The Kids Aren't Alright [Slash] [BoyxBoy]

Chapter Ten: [Olive]

When I get back to my house the next morning, I try to be as quiet as possible. If I have any luck at all, my parents won't notice I was missing last night.

Of course, the second I close the front door, they're crowding me in the foyer.

"Where were you?" Mom asks hysterically, her face bright red.

"Did you go to Remington?" My dad demands.

"I didn't go to Remington," I promise. "Can I go to my room now? I'm tired."

I try to step around them, but my dad steps in front of me. "You were gone all night and didn't even have your phone. Where were you?"

"How was I supposed to have my phone?" I huff. "You took it."

"You should have asked if you could leave the house, and then let us know if you weren't coming home." Mom crosses her arms over her chest, pursing her lips.

I lean against the door, rubbing my eyes. "Would you have said yes?"

"That doesn't mean you sneak out!" My dad snaps.

I look at him in frustration. "It was an emergency. It wasn't planned."

The anger on my mom's face drains into concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." I straighten up, shaking my head. "I'm okay. I'm just tired. Can I just go to my room now? Please?"

"Not before you tell us where you were," Dad says.

Lie.

Tell them you went to Micah's.

Then I remember the note I left on the fridge, perking up. "Didn't you see the note I left you? I was just at Micah's."

Dad furrows his eyebrows and leaves the room as my mom looks at me in confusion. He comes back a moment later, holding the note and squinting at it.

"We didn't see this," he says dumbly.

Mom looks away, biting her lip. "We figured... Because of the argument yesterday..."

"I didn't go to Remington. Can I please go to my room now?"

"Go ahead," she says, before, "Oh- Wait. Let me get your phone."

"Turn around," my dad says, even though I know where they hide my phone.

I do so, and my mom comes back into the foyer a moment later with my phone and laptop. I take them from her, thank them, and hurry into my bedroom.

I shut my door and sigh, sitting on my bed. I've been lying to my parents way more than comfortable lately.

-_-_-

As I walk into the kitchen the next day before school, the distaste my parents have is almost palpable.

I sit at the counter with my canvas leaning against it, thanking my mom as she sets my breakfast down in front of me.

"What's that for?" Dad asks, pointing to the canvas with his coffee mug.

"Class," I lie, mumbling. "I have art fifth period."

"I don't remember picking art," mom says in confusion.

I look up at her, knitting my eyebrows. "You didn't pick my schedule with me."

She just looks down, nodding. "Olive, why don't you wear something else today?" Dad suggests gently. "You're always wearing pastels- You should choose something else."