(Noah's POV)
"So, what's your address?" Caleb asked me.
"Um, I live in the apartment complex on Main Street," I told him mumbling a bit. I hated telling people I lived in the apartments. Most people in this town are pretty rich, and look down on poorer people. Like me. And everybody in the school knew that Caleb was part of a very wealthy family.
"Okay. I almost didn't recognize you with your hair long now," he said. I'd been growing it out as a metaphorical middle finger to my parents.
"Yeah..." I responded. "So why were you out so late tonight?"
"I was just getting some coffee. You?" he questioned looking to the left so he could turn.
"Just walking around. I kinda needed to get out of the house."
"Why?" Dammit. Why did I just tell him that? I didn't want anyone knowing about anything going on at home.
"Just stuff I guess." Not just stuff. My stupid mom and my stupid step dad.
"Cool I guess. Well we're here," he said pulling over to the side of the road in front of the apartments. "Sorry about spilling the coffee on you."
"It's fine. Thanks for the ride home," I told him opening the side door and getting out.
"No problem. See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Bye." And then he was gone. I looked up at the building and sighed dreading having to go back in. I walked into the building getting fingerprints on the glass doors and then completely ignoring the guy at the desk inside. I went straight for the elevators and selected floor 7.
I hated elevators. Just the little clicks on every floor in a pool of complete silence. And the fact it could break down at any moment. But then again it was one of the only places I didn't have to be around everyone else.
Once I stepped out I could just hear the noises coming from my apartment. I rolled my eyes and then got out my keys and walked in. Seeing a sight I was usually welcomed home with- my mom and her twenty five year old husband doing it on the living room couch. As soon as they heard me slam the door behind me. They looked up and he started yelling.
"Go to your room you fag!" That was one of many slurs I got from him. And my mom just let him do that. I brought home a guy once, and my moms husband hasn't let that go. He beat me later that night. He didn't take the fact I was gay too lightly. I've known I was gay since I was like 10 and my mom has known since then too and she didn't even care.
I trudged to my room leaving them alone to do whatever the fuck they were doing on that couch and laid down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I started to think about Caleb and the way his hair fell into his eyes. And the honey color of his skin. I felt slightly attracted to him. But I don't have a reason to. He's just a shallow rich kid who dumped coffee on me.
Just as I was getting settled into bed I heard a mans voice from the living room yelling for me. Great.
