I'd Live For You, If Only I Could (Completed)

Fourteen

I start down the stairs quickly, slowing as a bubble of anticipation grows in my stomach. When I reach the bottom, I find my dad leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot, while my mom sits behind him with her eyes down. I hear Scott pad down behind me and glance over my shoulder at him. He gives me a look that I guess is supposed to be reassuring, but the knot of nerves just winds tighter with each passing moment.

"Sit down." my dad says, and I am surprised to hear that his tone is not one of malice, but sympathy. I sit on the couch, a cushion between my mom and I, and slowly meet his gaze as Scott sits in the chair at the end of the room. "I expect that you think I'm mad at you, right?"

"Yes." I murmur, looking down at my feet again. "Why wouldn't you be?" He is silent for a few seconds, and the tension grows.

"I'm not. I'm...let's say surprised."

"About what, me being gay?"

"Yes. And that the two of you are, um..."

"Dating." I offer, looking up and keeping my gaze off the floor. "We're dating. Are you upset about that?"

"It's just not what I was expecting, but I don't really have a problem with it, as long as you shut the curtains next time. And all I ask is that if you two do that again, please do it when no one else is home."

"Wait." I say, shaking my head a little bit. "You're not going to lecture me about this?"

"If you were with a girl, I probably would." he admits, glancing toward Scott. I look over at him and fight a smirk when I see his cheeks flushed red. "But, honestly, no, I'm not going to, because I don't see any real issues here."

"You don't have any issues with what?" my mom snaps, and I look over, surprised. I have never heard her use any tone that wasn't gentle. "You don't want to address the state that you found our son in?" I suck in a sharp breath.

"What state is that?"

"Half naked against a window." she murmurs, "You're not concerned at all about what was about to happen?" Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach dance more rapidly, making me feel a little bit sick. I look over at Scott again, silently begging him to say something, but he stays quiet.

"No, I'm not. I think he can do whatever he wants."

"But-"

"Can we talk in the kitchen for a minute?" he says quietly. My mom closes her mouth again and nods solemnly, following him into the adjacent room. Though their tones are hushed, I pick up their brief conversation.

"Why aren't you worried about this? You said it yourself, if it was a girl-"

"Scott is not a girl. Scott is someone we know, someone we trust. Someone that Mitch can't get pregnant. I think that...we should let Mitch be. We don't know how long he has left, so why can't we just let him do what he wants when it comes to his love life? Just to give him some freedom, at least in that sense." I feel my chest tighten and curl my hands around the edge of the couch. Scott holds his hand out, and I take it in a heartbeat, letting the touch bring me a sense of reassurance. My mom doesn't say anything else, and a few seconds later, they walk out together.

"That's all I wanted to say." my father says, walking back out of the room. I look over to see my mom teary eyed.

"Mom?" She shakes her head, taking a deep breath before turning to Scott and saying, "Just be good to my son. That's all I want from you. If you hurt him, so help me God, I will tear you apart piece by piece."

"Of course I will. I love him."

"I can tell." Her gaze falls to our interlocked hands. "Are you still staying for dinner?"

"If I'm welcome, I would love to."

"You're always welcome here."

"Thank you, ma'am." She gives a curt nod and starts back toward the kitchen.

"I'm making parmesan chicken and penne. I hope you're up for it."

"I'm always up for your cooking." he says, smiling shyly. She returns the smile and disappears into the kitchen.

"Let's go back upstairs." I whisper, pulling him out of the chair and to the staircase. He stops me and kisses me firmly.

"I told you it would be fine."

****

Scott and I spend the next hour poring over a history textbook, trying to find the information for my homework that I have yet to make up from when I missed a week of school.

"Your damn teacher must hate all of you. This is impossible."

"I'm in AP, of course it's impossible."

"Remind me why you thought that was a good idea?" I shrug, flipping another page when suddenly spots start to dance in my vision. At first, I dismiss the black patches floating over everything as nothing more than an annoyance, but when a deep ache runs through my temple, I reach blindly for Scott's shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut. A piercing ringing starts in my ears, and it is all I can hear as I bury my face in one hand, trying to make it all stop. The ache in my temple turns into a sharp pain, and I vaguely feel Scott slip from under my fingertips. Both hands go to claw at my chest as something explodes within it, eliciting a shriek that only worsens everything. Suddenly I am being lifted and carried at a rapid pace. I crack my eyes open to see my dad's face above mine and my surroundings quickly shift from the stairwell to the living room, then to outside and the car. I press my eyes shut again, allowing a new pair of strong arms to surround me once I am sitting in the backseat. All I can do is sit, surrounded by limbs, in agonizing pain.