TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

4:

I hear but I can't listen. The large room seems to be getting smaller by the second and everyone's eyes feel like they're on me. They probably suspect, or know- judging me like I'm wrong for having there alien emotions. I tug my hood further over my head, the overlarge size swamping my petite frame. It's a Monday and this is my last class of the day. I study business and high level maths, two things that I find relatively easy; today my mind is just not with it though.

I doodle hopeless scribbles in the corner of my page, the hideous lines reflecting my puzzled head as well as the rolling of my stomach. My stepdad is homophobic and practically raised me to despise 'faggots' or people who aren't 'normal'. Despite me knowing how wrong he is for saying that, it has always stuck to the back of my mind, whispering tauntingly at my sexuality.

I am straight. I have to be straight. I can't be not straight.

"Mr Whitlock, can you please leave my classroom. I appreciate your eagerness to learn but sadly I have a date with my gorgeous wife," Professor Finley booms from the front.

I snap my attention away from my textbook and nod, hastily packing away my things in my light rucksack and descending down the stairs. All the while Finley's eyes have been training over me.

"What's wrong with you? You're usually fair more attentive," he asks gently.

"N-Nothing, why would something be wrong with me? I'm perfectly fine," I stutter, eyes widening.

He looks me up and down and shrugs, "Oh well, you best be off then."

I nod and dash for the door, only he stops me before I leave, "Oh, and Mr Whitlock?"

"Yes sir?"

"Lying doesn't suit you."

"Yes sir," I exit the room bewildered. I stride down the hall, dodging out the way of college students as my heart beat picks up. Professor Finley is a very laid back teacher who cares for his student's wellbeing whilst incorporating humour and excitement into his lessons. He has cropped salt and pepper hair, tanned skin and is shorter than me. With glasses, he has a very international style of clothing where he's bought memoirs from traveling the world. He has a way with words and an make every story entertaining.
I bump into a guy and mumble an apology, only to realise it's Derek Nelson, an African American student with a buzzed Afro and a muscled body. Who is also gay.

"S-Sorry," I mutter.

Derek grins, his white teeth blinding, "It's okay dude."

I don't know what posses me, but I ask, "Hey Derek, how did you know you were..."

"Gay?" He shrugs. "When I was in high school, I had this hot girlfriend. She had curves, flat stomach, perfect hair and flawless skin- but when I went to go down on her, I couldn't get hard. Y'know?"

"Sure."

"After that, I realised that everyone else told me how beautiful and lucky I was to have a gal like her, but she did nothing for me. She was pretty, I'll admit, but then I realised I had a crush on my best friend."

"Oh," I whisper, looking down at my feet.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, "Don't worry dude, you'll figure it out."

"Yeah, thanks Derek. I have to go, see you around."

"Oh!" He says before I can leave. "Do you want to come to my party on Saturday? Everyone's invited and it'll be nice to see you there."

"Sure, I don't see why not," I mumble and smile.

"Great," he sends me one last beam before turning and leaving.

Some butterflies flutter in my stomach.

I take the short walk back to my dorm and sigh with relief since Nate's not back yet. I take the time to tidy up the room since I've always hated mess.

Morgan: lunch?
Me: sure, see you at canteen

I walk back downstairs with my wallet and phone, meekly saying hellos on my way down to familiar students. When I finally enter the canteen, it's not completely full, but I spot Morgan's red hair from a mile away. I sneak up behind her and suddenly whisper, "Boo."

She jumps and curses bloody murder before smacking my arm repeatedly with annoyance, "You dickhead."

"I know," I chuckle as I slip into the seat opposite her. "So, how are you?"

"Well, apart from having aged a dozen years, I am perfectly alright. You?"

I chew on my bottom lip, "I need to tell you something."

"Oh?"
"Last night, I went out for a brisk walk because Nate was being Nate and has a girl over."

"Man slag."

"Yeah, I know," I sigh. "I then spotted a man with a prostitute down an alley-"

"Which isn't uncommon," she counters.

"I know, but it was just... weird to me."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know, weird weird. Like, I felt something. The customer then showed his face and he was handsome."

She looks at me curiously, "Are you saying that in a 'bro' way? Or a 'attracted' way?"

"I don't know," I breath.

She clicks her tongue and nods, "Okay. Listen Babe, I don't want to pressure you in any way, but after last night's little bickering session, do you think there is anyway you could be gay?"

"Probably?"

A smile splits her face, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, are you going to Derek's party this weekend?"

"Yeah, he invited me earlier," I mumble into my hands.

"Personal invitation?" She whistles. "This is college, where you discover who you are and with that your sexuality. Perhaps this weekend you can try with a guy?"

"Perhaps."

"Onto our second topic, have you called your mom at all?"

"No it slipped my mind," I grumble underneath my breath.

"Go call your mom, I'll get us lunch."

I pick up my phone and dial her number. It rings once, twice, three times before it goes to voicemail. What the fuck? I think. Did she hang up on me?