Lucas Carter is struggling to find his place after moving to Seacrest and enrolling in Seacrest High.
As he settles in with a new group of friends, Lucas becomes caught in a complicated love triangle with Tyler, a closeted jock, and Alec, a my...
As I stepped through the front door, the weight of day dragged me down and all I wanted to do was sleep but even that seemed impossible for me now.
Lost in thought, I barely registered my dad's voice as he greeted me with his usual "Hey kiddo." That's when I realized I had been standing there, silently lost in my own world. "Is everything okay?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.
With a sigh, I finally moved into the living room, where the TV droned on in the background. Sinking into the couch, I let out another sigh. "Yeah, it's just been a long day." "Well how was the game?" He offered. "We won," I replied, he smiled proudly, "Well that's great," but his smile didn't last as his face faltered, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there," "Dad it's okay, you shouldn't be moving around too much anyways, you heard what the doctor said," I reassured him but if anything it only made it worse, his eyes laced with sadness and a sigh escaped my lips as I took it in. "You okay?" He asked. "Don't worry about me dad, I'm fine."
His eyes traced over me, filled with a sadness that made my chest tighten. He could see through my act, but I couldn't breakdown, I couldn't cry no matter how badly my eyes wanted to. I couldn't let him see me like that, it was selfish.
He didn't push. He never did. Instead, he just sat there, looking smaller and more worn out than I could ever remember.
Then, he started coughing. The sound tore through the room, jagged and harsh, ripping away what little composure I had left. Panic flared in my chest. "Dad, are you okay?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.
He waved me off, his hand trembling slightly. "Water," he rasped, his voice barely audible.
I nodded quickly, almost tripping over my own feet as I rushed to the kitchen. My hands shook as I filled a glass with water, the sound of the faucet almost deafening in the quiet of the house. When I got back, I handed it to him, watching as he drank it slowly, the coughs subsiding.
He let out a long breath, and I did too, relief washing over me. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, trying to reassure me. But I wasn't convinced. "I just need some rest."
He pushed himself up from the couch, turning off the TV with a shaky hand. "Goodnight, kiddo," he murmured, patting my shoulder before heading toward the stairs. "Night, Dad," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper as I watched him go, his figure disappearing into the shadows.
I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness, feeling the weight of it crushing me. Everything in my life was already broken; I couldn't afford to break too. I just couldn't.
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My gaze fell to the pillow my dad had been leaning on. Without thinking, I grabbed it and pulled it close, hugging it tightly to my chest. The familiar scent of him, a mix of aftershave and something uniquely him, filled my senses, and that's when the tears came.
