"Straight"

we can't hide, they're everywhere

"Daniel, Philip! That is too close. Get your arms away from each other right now!" 

My head whips up to see the principal glaring at me and Phil. Quickly, I brush my friend's hand off of my shoulder and shove his jumper back into his face. We can't even get across the courtyard before one of the advisers calls us out. Ridiculous.

If I was gay, it would be a completely different story. Having two boys show affection in public would be totally acceptable and no one would even pay any mind to it. 

But not when you're straight. 

I'm only allowed to show affection toward girls. No one else. It's the stupidest rule ever, but it's how the world works. You can't change the world, you can only change yourself. That's what my dad always used to say before... well, before he became an alcoholic.

"Sorry, Dan," I hear Phil mutter next to me.

I give him a sad smile. 

"It's okay. It's just the way things are, right?" 

He frowns and looks away, nodding. 

"I guess." 

***

Maths is the worst class in the world. No matter how hard I try, the equations just never make any sense. I just don't get it. 

Phil, on the other hand, is very smart and always helps me with my maths homework. We walked home after school together this afternoon and had to run through the rain. 

"Do you think I'll ever understand mathematics? It seems impossible," I whine to Phil as I throw my wet hoodie onto my bed. 

"You'll get there someday. I know you will," he replies thoughtfully. 

We sit in a comfortable silence, accompanied by the sound of the rain falling rhythmically against the roof. 

"Y'know... I feel like there is a flaw in the world. Like, it doesn't matter how orderly anyone tries to make it, there will always be problems. No system is perfect, at least not for long, and I feel like the way we are living is sort of a lie."

I stare at Phil, slightly taken back. After a moment, I nod.

"Yeah, I agree. I feel like-" 

"DANIEL! GET YOUR YOUR SORRY ASS DOWN HERE!"

I jump, eyes widening in fear. Phil looks at me nervously and grabs my arm in a sort of comforting way.

"I didn't know my dad was coming home," I whisper anxiously. "He's been gone for days, but I have no idea where he went. Mum wouldn't tell me where he was, but I don't think she knew either."

"DAN! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!" 

"He sounds piss-drunk," Phil mutters, clutching my arm tighter.

There's no way I can let Phil go down stairs, my dad would kill him. I can't put him in danger like that. Quickly, I pull Phil over to my closet and push him inside, basically slamming the doors shut. 

"Dan, what are you doing?" he asks, bewildered. 

"Stay here," I command.

"THAT'S IT, I'M COMING UP!" I hear my dad shout. 

"Shit shit shit shit..." I mutter, dashing out my bedroom door and practically tumbling down the stairs.

"There you are, ya little fucker. Where's your mother?"

I shrug, avoiding eye contact and trying to make myself as small as I can. My dad is an aggressive drunk, and if you step out of line when he's like this, things get ugly.

"I asked a question," he growls, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him.

"I-I don't know," I stammer. I can smell the alcohol in his breath. 

My dad doesn't look satisfied. 

Uh oh.

"Well then, if she's not here, then I guess I'm stuck with you," he sneers letting go of my face and grabbing my wrist tightly. I try not to flinch at the pain. He drags me into the kitchen and looks around for another beer bottle, but he'd obviously already used up everything in the house.

I listen fearfully as he grumbles in anger, and suddenly he throws me against the sink. My head smacks against the cold metal and I squeeze my eyes shut, bright bursts of pain shooting through my skull. 

My dad mumbles something unintelligent and I hear him stomp away. Soon after, the front door slams and I let out a relieved groan. 

"Dan? Dan!"

I squint up at Phil as he rushes toward me. Is it just me or does he look cuter when he's concerned?

I think I hit my head a little too hard. 

I feel his warm hands lift my throbbing head into his lap and begin to stroke my hair. 

"What happened?"

I pause for a moment. I don't really know what happened. He just freaked out, I guess. 

"H-he... wanted more beer, but I guess he already drank it all. He was also l-looking for my mum...." I stutter out while gramcing. 

Phil's facial expressions are a mix of concern and anger. He slowly helps me up and steadies me.

"Why don't you get help? Why don't you tell anybody? Your dad has been an alcoholic for two years now and your family still just suffers through it. Why?" he asks sadly.

"It's not that easy," I say, trying to blink away the pain in my head. "He may get drunk a lot, but he's still my father. It's just hard, okay?" 

Phil nods solemnly. 

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry."

We sit in silence for a moment, staring at the ground and wishing to say things that are left unspoken. Then he does something that I should've expected from Phil, but somehow didn't. 

He hugs me. 

And it isn't just a hug, it's a loving embrace. One that says Don't worry, I'm here for you. That's another thing I love about Phil. He won't let you go through something alone. He will be there to support and care for you, and I love him for that. 

But not in a gay way. 

Right?