-- Luke's pov --
Day 7, the last day in hell on wheels. Michael and I were on our bed being bored. He was playing tunes on his guitar and I was reading.
"Don't wanna be in this stupid RV," Michael started singing to the tune of American Idiot by Green Day, "Don't want a nation under the new phobia. And can you hear the sounds of homophobes? The subliminal find fuck everyone."
I laughed as he started humming the rest, "Sounds like a hit."
"I'm bored," he groaned.
"Me too," I said, "Should we ask how much longer?"
"Yesssss," he said putting his guitar back.
I opened the door and shouted, "How much longer?"
"Two days and 4 hours," someone replied.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Thirty minute buzz kill," the same voice said.
I closed the door and turned to Michael, "I'm so ready to get away from these humans."
"Me too," he agreed.
"Hey boys," my mom said as she came in.
"What the hell? Why didn't you knock? Michael and I could have been doing something," I said being already annoyed with her presence.
"Well, I didn't hear anything so I walked in," she said sitting down, "We need to talk guys."
"No," Michael said, he was so done with my mother.
"Now you talk," she said.
"Yeah, the faggot can talk now," he said which surprised me. He must really hate her because he yells at me for even thinking of that word.
"Michael," she said sitting down, "You're not a faggot."
"Sure," he rolled his eyes, "I'll believe you when we go back in time and I don't hear those words come out of your mouth."
"What is he talking about?" I said confused.
"Nothing," she said.
"Bullshit," he said getting angry.
I put my hand on Michael's knee and turned to my mom, "I asked a question."
"I shouldn't have come in here," she said standing up.
"Sit your ass back down and tell me," I demanded.
She sighed, "The adults and I were talking and they asked why we were fighting and why you called yourself a faggot."
"And your response was," Michael said gesturing for her to finish.
"You're an asshole when you do talk," she said loudly.
"You're an asshole in general! Calling your son a faggot is something and asshole does!" he yelled out of hurt.
"You what?" I said clenching my fists.
"It came out wrong," she said.
"The fuck do you mean it came out wrong?!" Michael yelled at her, "Why don't you fucking tell him what you said!"
"FINE!" she shouted but then lowered her voice as she continued, "Fine. They asked why you called yourself a faggot and I told them you were gay. Then they said that that wasn't so bad and I said-"
She stopped making me angry.
"What the fuck did you say? Exact words would be nice," I said getting so mad. Michael came over to me and sat behind me, wrapping his legs around my waist and hugging my from behind. He kissed the back of my neck and rested his chin on my shoulder. He calmed me down enough to stop yelling.
