The arts of spoon throwing [SLOW UPDATES]

2

c h a p t e r  2

❝Don't accept the shit people hand you❞

[ k i n g s l e y ]

"May we be excused?" I say while while trying to hide my annoyance towards my father and Mr and Mrs Harper.

"I find it sickening!" Mrs Harper cringes, "They're putting things into our kids minds!"

My eyes sneak a glance to my brother who was shifting in his seat looking mildly uncomfortable.

Karson is gay.

Nobody knew apart from me when I had caught some guy hiding in his closet a few months back. Mom had told me to get Karson for dinner and as soon as I entered his room my observation skills kicked in. What immediately gave it away was the different aftershave nobody in our family uses.

(Plus there were used condoms in one of his recycling bins... specifically the bin for plastics. Only my brother would recycle his condoms.)

With every filthy word that came out of one of the Harpers mouths, was another slap to the face for Karson.

Dad nods his head in agreement, "Yes they are. The LGBT community is disgraceful!"

My brows furrow and I notice Karson had frozen still. Now that was just a stab in the heart.

"May we be excused?" I repeated with a louder voice. Everyone turns to look at me, "You're excused." Dad grunted, a glare shoots my way from the end of the table. "You're also excused Karson." He tells my brother in a more warmer tone.

"Thank you," Karson politely says. Both of us stand up from the leather seats. Mrs Harper begins to brag about her son's latest achievement. "Zachary has a girlfriend now but he won't tell us who it is!" She whined.

Karson and I walked into the main living room which had a black and white monochrome theme. "I'm going to Orlando's house. It's better than that shit show." I inform my younger brother in case anyone comes to look for me. Doubt it. I dryly laughed in my head, a piece of that dry humour had appeared on my face in the form of a small smile.

The cold metal of the front door handle strikes a jolt through my fingertips, sending me back into reality. Though it didn't physically make me want to pull my hand away. The feeling was... nice.

"I'll just go upstairs to study, Mr Brooksworth gave me more things to study for the National Mathematic competition. Mom and dad wouldn't want me to get the other 'supporting achievements'" He sighs in response, quoting 'supporting achievements' with his fingers.