Coming to terms with his sexuality, Theodore Moore is a seventeen year old who is just about getting by. He makes minimum wage and has aspiring, out-of-reach dreams to become a lawyer.
Violent and aggressive, Antony Barbosa is everything wrong with...
“What do you want from me, huh?” Antony asks, heaving himself to his feet and throwing the cigarette to the floor, stomping on it.
“Who is it?” I asked him, blinking away the pain of seeing him shut off. He turns his head towards me, licking his bottom lip. His eyes flickered all across my face, and then his gaze fell to the ground of the bridge. I wrapped my arms around my body to keep warm.
“Who’s what?” He asked, his tongue poking at his right inner cheek.
“Who are you marrying?” I asked him, and he blinked at me, his mouth parting slightly. His eyes waver and his hands shake by his side, and he swallows deeply.
“She told you about that.” He murmurs, and I nod my head.
“Yeah, she did.” I state, and he scoffs, blinking up at the dark sky, a few stars scattered across the galaxy. “Were you planning on telling me?” I asked him, and my heart shattered when he slowly shook his head, his jaw clenched.
“It’s not a big deal.” He says, quietly, and my scoff turns into a laugh as I turn away from him, my hands on top of my head. I interlock my fingers and stare up at the sky, blinking away the tears. “Just forget it, man. It doesn’t matter.”
“It might not matter to you, Antony, but it fucking matters to me!” I yell, turning back to face him. He was already looking at me, his eyes fluttering everywhere. “I don’t want you to marry someone else, Antony! Do you realise how- how mad this all is? Your dad has-”
“Yes!” He yells, before composing himself, clearing his throat and shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I don't have a choice in any of this.” He shrugs his shoulders, sniffing a little.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t have a choice and I’m marrying some slag in a few weeks, okay?” He snapped, and I blinked at him, taking a step away from him. His breath shudders a little as he speaks. “Look… we’re done, alright?” He tells me, and my lips quivered. “I think that much is obvious. You should just… go home and forget it, alright?”
“I can’t do that.” I tell him, shaking my head. My heart hurt and everything hurt and here he was, pushing me further away and the sound of the waves underneath us crash against my eardrums and I was freezing but I’m not bothered because my brain hurt. All I cared about was standing in front of me, and the harsh reality that he didn’t need or want me nearly as much crushes me. It’s the last straw. “I thought that you… I thought…”
“You thought wrong.” He replies curtly, and I can’t help it when a tear slips down my cheek slowly. Antony notices, and his breath shudders and his jaw clenches. “Go home, Theo.” He speaks so quietly that I can barely hear him. It breaks my heart that when he finally says my name, he says it to break me. To land the final blow. To land the killing streak.
“Don’t do this.” I beg him, stepping closer to him. Antony holds his hand out, stepping away from me. My jaw clenches and my breathing is heavy as I stare at him. The cold, unnerving look in his eyes, the setting of his jaw and the powerfulness of his stance. I nod my head slowly, finally understanding. Finally coming to terms with the truth. Antony doesn’t want me. Maybe he never did, but it doesn’t make the realisation any easier to come to terms with.
I was stupid to chase after him. I was stupid to pursue anything in the first place when I knew in the back of my heart that it would end in disaster. And this is it. This is that disaster. This is the pain that, in a few years, will come back and haunt me. This is the anguish that parents try to keep you safe from. My parents tried to protect me from this. They tried, but I wouldn’t listen. Tom tried to protect me. But I ignored him and spited him for it. Turns out they were right all along.
I step away from him. Antony’s gaze flickers all over my face and something weird flashes in his eyes before he blinks it away. His hands drop to his side. I nod my head slowly, scoffing and turning away from him. I walk away. I walk away and I don’t turn back to look at him. I walk down the steps that lead me back to the field and I don’t look back at him. I walk all the way home and ignore my family’s questions before locking myself into my bathroom and collapsing onto the ground, forcing myself not to cry. Crying meant admitting to myself that I care more than I let myself believe, and if I let myself believe, it’ll give me hope. And hope… hope will kill me.
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