Rich and George: The Power Couple

George's POV: The Hardest Conversation

 By eighth grade, I felt more comfortable being around the Sekowskis and Sidney, as well as Bex and Jillian. We were pretty close, and I often went out with them for drinks after school. And by freshman year, we were inseparable.

However, freshman year was also a time for relentless teasing, by Henry, but also by a girl named Isabella Thomson. She thoroughly enjoyed calling me a fag and teasing Maximillian, especially after I came out publicly.

But the worst part was that every day, Rich would make things so much harder for me. Every day he would pass me notes, saying things like "you're cute" or "I like you." It felt like teasing, and it made me sick.

"Hey, George!" I was at my locker the day before Christmas break, and wouldn't you know it, Rich was calling my name. I groaned and slammed the door shut.

"What do you want?"

"I really like your shirt today," he said, smiling a little too wide. "You're really handsome in it." I rolled my eyes.

"Look, I don't have time for this. Please just stop kidding around, okay?" I was about to walk away, but he stopped me.

"I'm not kidding around." Oh yeah, sure.

"Leave me alone, Rich." I tried to walk away, but yet again, I was stopped. This time, it wasn't Rich. It was Isabella and Henry.

"Hey Iz, check out what the rainbow brought in," Henry scoffed. I groaned.

"Hey, Georgie-pooh! How's your boyfriend doing?" Isabella laughed, pointing at Rich. He said nothing.

"See what you did?" I shot at him. He didn't reply.

"Hey, Davis," Henry began. "Permission to kick George's ass?" Again, he said nothing. Now I was really annoyed with him.

"All of you, leave me alone. Please."

"Nah, I'm good." Henry grabbed my arm and pinned it behind my back. "This is a lot of fun, actually."

"Ow!" I glared at Rich. "Aren't you gonna do something, jerk?" Hastily, he ran away from me. Great.

"Break his arm, Henry!" Isabella cheered. I winced in pain as my hatred for Rich burned in my head. But that was exactly the problem, I didn't hate him. In fact, I loved everything about him. Well, except his decision-making.

When they finally let me go, I stumbled out the door and ran into my dad's car as fast as I could. I knew I had to come clean as soon as possible. My parents were both lawyers, and crazy rich. That day I got picked up in a red lamborghini. "Hey, Georgie!" Dad chirped. "How was your day?" My eyes welled up with tears. "Oh, it was one of those days, huh?"

"Why won't Henry just leave me alone?" I wailed. "He tried to break my arm, it hurts so bad." I put my head in my hands, sobbing.

Dad didn't say anything for a moment, then took out his phone. "Do you want me to send the doctor to our house, or take you there?" he asked.

"Can we go to the house?" I asked politely. "I actually want to talk to you and Mom about something."

"Oh." He seemed concerned, but continued texting my mom and making a phone call to the doctor. We left the school and headed home, staying silent the whole way there.

"Hey, Georgie!" Mom was standing in the doorway when I got home from school. "I'm so sorry about your arm, Doctor Barnes says he'll be at the house in an hour."

"Thanks, Mom," I replied, tears still in my eyes. "Did Dad tell you I wanted to talk to you both?"

"He did, do you want to do that now?" I nodded. "Okay, honey. I made some cocoa, let's all sit down at the table."

I walked into the house and to the dining room, where a cup of hot chocolate was there waiting for me. I felt a little better, since Mom's hot chocolate was my favorite. But once they all sat down, I started getting antsy.

"Thanks for sitting down with me. This isn't easy for me to talk about, but I know I'll feel a lot better if I do." They both nodded, and my crying got worse. "I'm sorry, this is really scary."

"It's okay, George. You can tell us," Mom cooed. She was still wearing her black dress suit, but her hair was down.

"I know, it's just..." I took a deep breath. "It's fine. I can do this."

"You okay, buddy?" Dad asked.

"Not really." I took a breath, counting to ten in my head. Finally, I told them, "I'm gay."

Their reactions didn't surprise me in the slightest. Mom looked worried, I didn't know if it was the crying or the homosexuality that was making her feel that way. Dad's expression was stern, and unmoving. I cried harder.

"Stand up," Dad told me. I stood. "Look at me, George. This is important."

"I'm sorry," I blubbered.

"No, don't apologize right now." I looked at Dad, my lip quivering. My vision was getting blurry as the tears poured out of my eyes. "George Liam Williams," he began. "I don't care who you are, and I don't care who you like. I don't care if you're gay, straight, or anything in between." I should've felt comforted, but I was getting increasingly nervous.

"But," he continued. "I care about your character. I care about the way I raised my son, and I want you to answer me honestly. Are you the man I raised you to be?"

I was crying too hard to speak. I looked up at Dad, then at Mom. They both had the same, gentle look on their faces. I threw my arms around him and sobbed.

"I love you no matter what, George. Don't you ever forget that." I kept crying as Mom put her arms around the both of us.

"Thank you for telling us, baby," Mom said in a hushed tone. "I'm proud of you."