I awake, from the... heat? I sit up. Wait, why am I outside, on a roof, naked? Covered in hickeys?
I look over at sleeping, naked James.
"James..."
"Hmm?" he rolls over to look at me.
"Why are we naked?"
"What?" He sits up. "I don't know."
He sounds sleepy.
"We should get dressed before people see us!"
"Ugh, ok fine!" He stands up, puts on his clothes and stares at me.
"What?"
"Aren't you gonna get dressed?" he asks.
"Yeah...." I stand up, and get dressed.
Right then, my phone rings.
James answers.
"Yeah....fuck no..... uhuh.... well he hates you.... no.. why?"
I stare at his beautiful face as he speaks.
He hangs up.
"Who was that?" I ask.
"Your mom wanting you to come back so you two can have a conversation," he answers as he hands me my phone.
"Why?"
There's a moment of silence.
"She wants you to break up with me, and come back there."
"No, I'm not doing either of those things. Heck, I'm not going back!" I whined.
"You have to, otherwise she's gonna call the cops... and say you ran away."
"I didn't run away, she kicked me out!" I protest.
"I have to come with you as well."
"Well, with you there, at least it'll be better," I stop. "Let's go."
---___---
We arrive at my moms' house. I open the door, and we walk in.
"Ah, finally you're here! James, go to the other room," my mom says through a smirk.
He hesitates, before leaving. I look over, and see him peaking to see if I'm ok.
My mom grabs a knife, and walks closer to me. I back away, until I'm met with the front door.
"Time for you to die!"
I panic, I screech. I'm having a panic attack. A knife this close to my heart is, well terrifying. I start getting flashbacks, at a memory my mom didn't see. Eight year old me, in eight year old me point of view, getting killed by me now.
James runs over, and grabs my mom. "No one is going to kill my best friend, and boyfriend!" he screams.
"Oh no you don't!" my mom turns around, and makes a lunging motion with her knife toward James. Before the knife makes contact with James, I grab her arm, and rip the knife out of her hands.
"I'm calling the cops!" I yell as I reach for my phone.
My mom grabs the knife back, and this time, lunges towards me, while I'm on the phone with the police. I don't have enough time to move out of the way.
YOU ARE READING
You're Like A French Fry (a transgender love story)
Narrativa generale((EDIT: changed the description!)) "you're like a French Fry, nice, hot, and when I kiss you, delicious." *Dramatic music plays* Will Lee actually let go of his mom? Will Lee become an author with a boyfriend or girlfriend? Will Lee truly love hims...
