Misinterpreting Fate (Book 2)

27. Surrounded By Hate

Chapter 27: Surrounded By Hate

Ryan

Being suspended sucked. As much as I hated school, I hated being stuck home even more. It didn't help that Mom was seriously pissed at me right now. Her good mood Saturday morning was gone and I had no idea when it was going to come back. If it was going to come back. I'm pretty sure she actually hated me right now.

It was my fault, too. I knew I needed to stop getting into trouble at school, but I couldn't help sticking up for those that couldn't defend themselves. Especially Sam. My Sammy, who didn't deserve to be hurt the way he has been.

And then she had to find out the one thing I knew I needed to keep from her. I blamed Shawn for that, but it was my fault that he even followed me back to my house. He told me the truth. That he's liked me for a while now. When he said that, I just felt numb. He had been one of my best friends, and yet I had no idea how he was feeling. But it was too late to matter. I was in love with Sam and Shawn had hurt Sam too many times to be worth any more attention from me. It was simple for me to understand, but Shawn couldn't seem to grasp that concept. No matter how many different ways I tried to explain it.

He followed me back to my house. I didn't know until I got to my driveway. Mom was sitting on the front steps, watching Matty play in the yard. I had waved to her before going to put my bike away. That's when Shawn made his presence known. Loudly.

"Why did you have to choose Sam over me?" Shawn had yelled across my yard. "You'll regret making him your boyfriend. I can't believe I ever loved you. I hate you!"

Well, I hated him now too. Since he hurt Sam. Repeatedly.

He had quickly rode off after saying that, leaving me to deal with the consequences. They weren't pretty. The dragging me inside and sending Matty to his room. The screaming. The crying. The guilt-tripping.

I just stood there the whole time, listening to all the emotions she went through. I wasn't the son she thought I was. I knew that a long time ago. It's why I never told her. She had plans for me, as she's been telling me for years. I was going to graduate high school with great grades. Get into a good college to become a doctor. Marry a nice girl and have three beautiful children with her. I'm pretty sure she even had some names picked out. It's all she's been focused on without Dad around.

I didn't want that. I never have. College probably wasn't ever going to be an option for me, since I was barely making it through high school, and definitely not with the grades she expects. Which means I'll never become a doctor, even if I wanted to be one. And marrying a girl? Yeah, right. Once I realized just how strong my feelings for Sam were, probably sometime in middle school, I knew girls never held my attention the same way. And it wasn't because Sam clouded my every thought. I just wasn't attracted to girls. I liked boys. Simple as that. If only my mom saw it the same way.

She would have listened to Dad, if he was still here. He accepted me. He was the only one I ever told before, aside from that one kid during the camping trip Mom took us on one summer to forget the pain of losing Dad. I couldn't remember his name at this point, but I remembered the sex. Sneaking around behind our parents' backs, none of them knowing the truth. We were both fourteen. Lost and confused in a world that didn't understand us. But we understood each other.

I was so scared to tell Mom, but Dad was different. He figured it out. He still loved me.

I made him promise not to tell Mom. Or anyone, actually. He promised not to say anything. Not until I was ready for people to know. He said he'd always be there for me. No matter what.

Four months later the cancer took him.

It's been three years since he died and none of us have been the same. Except maybe Matty, who had only been two at the time. He never really knew Dad. Mom started having those drastic mood swings and planning my perfect future. I just got angry. Angry at her. Angry at Dad for leaving when he promised he wouldn't. Angry at the world. It's why I got so invested into boxing. Why I started getting into more trouble at school. Throwing punches helped.

There was a knock on the front door and I knew it was Sam. I hurried to the door, not because I was looking forward to talking about everything that's happened in the last couple of days with him, but because I really just wanted to hold him. Sam gave the best hugs.

As soon as I opened the door, his arms were around me. Like he knew I needed a hug right now. He buried his face against my shoulder and I tucked my nose into his hair, smelling the delicious scent of his shampoo. This moment, right here, was what I've been missing all day.

But instead of having this little moment of ours in the doorway, I guided him inside, doing my best to keep him as close to me as possible while still being able to close the door. I didn't want any nosy neighbor drama. Not with everything else going on. I didn't need the neighbors hating me too.

Once the door closed, Sam backed out of my hold. He was covered in paint, which wouldn't be any weirder than normal, except Sam didn't usually make that much of a mess when he painted. "I have to be back by four," he said.

I checked the clock. It was almost three. Which gave us just about an hour. "Alright. Mom should be back around then anyway. It's probably better if you're not here when she gets back. At least until she cools off a bit."

"Does she know about me too? About us?"

I nodded my head. "Unfortunately. Also... What's with all the paint today? Did you have to paint yourselves in class?"

Sam made a face which was supposed to be irritation but honestly just looked cute. "It was nothing."

I grabbed him again, pulling him back to me. My face was inches away from his. "You can tell me, you know," I whispered.

"You don't want to know."

I took a step back, but kept my hands on his waist. I loved touching him. Even just the smallest touches. "Did someone do that to you?" I wanted to know. That way I could help him. That's what I was here for. I wanted to be here for him. The way he always has been for me.

His silence answered my question.

"Grant?" Sam nodded. "Why?"

He shrugged. "We had a sub in class. With no real teacher and you not in school to go after him, Grant decided to have some fun. It's no big deal, Ryan. Honestly. It was just some paint. I'm more worried about how you're doing."

I shook my head. "Not that great. My mom hates me and I'm stuck here basically under house arrest. I almost wish I could be in school this week. At least then I can protect you from assholes like Grant."

Sam took a small step forward before leaning up to press his lips against mine. I kissed him back. His lips were so soft. I loved how they felt against mine. I never wanted to let him go.

And the next time I see Grant, I was going to fuck him up so bad. Nobody messes with my Sammy and gets away with it.