The Life of Bailey Walter- ON HOLD

Chapter 4- Badass Boots

 *UNEDITED*

Chapter 4- Badass Boots

I sat in the car on Monday morning, replaying the events of Saturday night’s dinner over and over again in my head. I couldn’t help but cringe at the memory. Even calling Blake yesterday and telling him everything that happened was cringe-worthy, and what did he do? He laughed that shit up like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Oh yeah, Blake, is only like my best friend in the whole wide world. We’ve been close since we were babies, because our parents were always close and still are. Also, I might advise you that Blake is like a guy version of me, to the extreme fact that we both like guys. Yup, that’s right, my best friends gay, and it’s awesome!

I was there for him when he first stepped out of the closet, and I was that special to be the first one he came to about it, after that it was his parents, then my parents- because my family is like his second family- who were all sworn to secrecy, and now Blake is too afraid to come out to the whole world because of discrimination against homosexuals.

He gets that freaked out that when we have sleepovers, if we get close to the topic, he cries, and it breaks my heart. I have to hold him in my arms and offer encouraging words. Do you know how hard it is to hold your best friend of almost 18 years in your arms while he cries, all because the world is hurting him? It makes me furious.

Grow up you discriminating homosexual heart munchers!

Let’s move on before I hurt someone.

Can you believe it? That I, Bailey Walter, managed to spill a whole jug of lemonade on Ashton?

Wait what? Oh, right, Saturday night dinner. Aha.

Anyways… He asked for one drink, one, and I accidently gave him everything that the jug could hold. I loved that jug, and now it’s broken, because Ashton didn’t catch- I mean, damn, I soaked his pants with lemonade. Tis a shame.

I can still remember his face right before he leapt out of his chair, and then it got worse. Much worse.

“Fuck that’s cold!” Ashton cursed, jumping to his feet, his chair falling backwards behind him. His eyes were wide, eyebrows scrunched together, red tinting the colour of his cheeks, and his mouth was turned into a scowl that seemed almost permanent, like it loved to be involved with Ashton’s face. Does he scowl a lot, do you think?

Mrs Summer’s gasped, her chair scraping back in the process of standing up, “Ashton Summers! You apologise right this moment for using such foul language!” she demanded, hands on hips and all. Oh yeah, I’m talking ‘you mess with me and you’ll face the consequences’ mother language.

“Me?” Ashton asked incredulously, “What about her? She spilled lemonade on me!”

I swear I put my hands up in mock surrender, like hulk himself was in front of me and ready to avenge the poor lemonade, and that jug that I loved. And for Christ sake, it’s just lemonade!