Sons of Liberty University | Hamilton College AU

Chapter 3 - Storm Closet

Alex

I woke up, cuddled next to John. His right arm was draped around me. He was snoring softly.

I had to prevent myself from screaming.

This is the first time I noticed his freckles. They were like tiny stars on his face.

I heard giggling and shifted my gaze.

Hercules and Lafayette were looking at us and laughing. I glared at them.

"Whazzgoin' on?" John slurred tiredly.

"Why are you and Alex suddenly all cuddly?" Lafayette asked, a snicker in his voice.

John jumped and hurriedly pulled away from me.

I was suddenly very cold. I stare at him with wide eyes and wrapped my arms around myself.

"I, uh..." He cleared his throat. "We were talking, and he fell asleep, and, uh..."

His face went red when he looked back at me.

I blushed slightly.

John sat down next to me and fiddled with his fingers.

"I'm really sorry," I blurted after Laf and Herc went to the kitchen for breakfast. "I should've gone to sleep on my part of the couch, and now you--"

"Alex, it's okay," he interrupted. "It helped. I wasn't in the best of mindsets last night, and you helped."

He looked down at his hands.

"I'm gay," he said suddenly. "My Dad abused me because I'm gay. He made me go to straight therapy. He locked me in the basement with stupid magazines of girls. He did everything in his power to make me straight, but none of it ever worked. I'm still not hetero magee. I never have been, and I never will be. If you can't accept that, then I don't think we can be friends."

My stomach twisted up in knots.

(FLASHBACK!)

"Daddy, look!" I squealed. I was six years old at the time. I had drawn a picture of a boy I liked at my school. "I drew a picture!"

He snatched the picture out of my hands. I was holding his hand in the picture. His name was Damien.

"What is this?" he asked in a deadly whisper. I was still young at the time, and I didn't understand that not all dads were so mean.

"It's a picture of Damien, Daddy!" I said happily. Damien had sat at lunch with me that day and had played with me during recess. Nobody ever sat with me.

"And who is Damien?"

"He's a boy I like!"

He immediately crumpled the drawing up into a paper ball and threw it in the fireplace. I shouted in dismay and watched as it burned into ashes.

"I refuse for my son to turn into a gay!" he yelled, and then slapped my face. It stung like a thousand bees. I toppled back onto the ground. Tears filled my eyes. "YOU'RE USELESS ENOUGH WITH YOUR STUPID WRITING! GO INTO YOUR ROOM! I'M NOT GIVING YOU ANYTHING TO EAT!"

I raced upstairs to my tiny room and locked myself in my closet and cried silently for a few minutes.

I stopped and grabbed my notebook and a pencil from my desk and went back into the closet. I began to write.

I like a boy named Damien. He's six, like me. He's really nice.

(END OF FLASHBACK!)