Pick Your Poison (L.S)

Chapter 4- Bisexual

Harry's pov:
I stare at my Drama teacher open-mouthed as I process the harmful words. What the hell? Mr Tomlinson seems to see my shock, and takes that as a sign to continue.

"The priest, Father Andrew's tactics to help the confused teens are really helpful, you'll return a straight man within a week! He'll show you how being gay is in fact a choice, and how to make the right decision by abiding by God's orders. Who knows, you might even find a girlfriend while you're there." He rambles, clearly not noticing the anger written all over my face. I take a deep breath, in order to keep my cool, before interrupting his little speech.

"What the fuck?" I snap, causing the man to immediately fall silent, obviously shocked by my hostile reaction. "I thought you were pretty cool. You literally saved me from those stupid football players, for God's sake!" I grumble, shaking my head in disappointment.

After a few seconds of sitting in complete silence, the only sound filling the room being my laboured breathing out of anger, he speaks up again.

"I saved you from those dickheads because no one deserves to be assaulted, and it's literally my job to teach and protect you and your peers. That's why I want you to attend Father Andrew's conversion camp. It would help you. The whole reason they're doing this to you in the first place is because you are gay. This camp would literally solve all of your problems." Mr Tomlinson says gently, seemingly trying to calm me down. Unfortunately for him, all this does is provoke me.

"How would going to the stupid camp solve ANY of my problems?!" I exclaim, growing more frustrated with the man by the second.

This question causes him to roll his eyes. "You wouldn't be gay anymore! You would have had the demons cast out of you, and be straight again." My teacher says, exacerbated.

I actually laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of Mr Tomlinson's statement.

"You can't just, like, stop being gay! That's not how it works." I state, making the man furrow his brows in confusion.

"Yes it is." He argues, crossing his arms over his chest. The corners of my lips curl, and I have to bite my lips harshly to avoid laughing once more. My Drama teacher, who is in his late 20's-early 30's, is not only arguing against someone about half his age, but is looking like a three year old as he does so, arms crossed and an angry pout upon his lips. He looks just about ready to chuck a tantrum, throw himself on the ground and scream.

"Oh my GOD," I gasp sarcastically, placing the back of my hand against my forehead, and the other over my heart, "The almighty Louis Tomlinson has spoken! It is officially 100% true!"

He fish mouths, unsure of how to reply to my remark, but clearly getting more and more worked up. Mr Tomlinson looks down. When he looks back up at me, instead of looking angry, he just looks plain stressed. The vein in his neck has plumpened and become more obvious, and his face is scrunched up, and he is practically displaying his emotions on a silver platter.

"And, like, being gay isn't a choice! Do you REALLY think that I would choose to be gay? Of course not! I would choose to be straight in a heartbeat if it means I would no longer be bullied and harassed!" I continue, teeth beared and fists clenched, "But it's not a choice. I'm not gonna attend that stupid conversion camp, which definitely doesn't work by the way, just to spend my life stuck with some random woman who I'm not even attracted to, just to abide by the rules of some fanfiction written by some homophobic men thousands of years ago. I'd rather go to hell!" I snap.

"B-but it does work! The conversion camp works, I swear!" Mr Tomlinson stammers, frustrated tears forming in his eyes.

I slam my fist down on the desk aggressively as I rise from my seat. I immediately notice the way my teacher visibly flinches, but am too angry to care. "Enlighten me, Tomlinson! How do you know that?" I retort.