You Say (Boy x Boy)

Prologue (1)

*This is so long overdue! I'm sorry The_Frayed the chapters will start to get longer, I just need to get back into the swing of things. Hope everyone enjoys the new work, still going to try to update on my days off. Anyways Jordan will bee represented by Reece King!
This story will also be from two point of views though from different times. This story will be essentially two versions of the same love story but from both boys point of views. In some cases, I.e. any chapter that I deem important to the plot, the chapters will be of the same occurrence from either POV. Otherwise, all the chapters (1) will be from Jordan's POV and all the chapters (2) will be from Chris' POV and are a continuation of the previous chapter.*

    I couldn't help but feel under pressure as I let the music attempt to drown out the sound of my heart beating within my throat. There was something unsettling about always moving, even if I technically was not really moving. Being accepted into a prestigious school should've been the highlight of my young adult life, but honestly it was the worst thing that could've happened.
     Everything is always good on paper, the planning going down right and making it seem like this is the best change for your life. Then there's the actual event and saying goodbyes, not knowing when you'll see your best friend again since you decided to do your best on an advance placement test. Now I'm packing for boarding school almost a thousand miles away in the boring state that shouldn't exist known as Connecticut.
     Seriously, what was in Connecticut? It was one of those states that one needed a dictionary to spell, so it was never really brought up in a daily conversation. I mean what was there to actually say? "Oh, I'm moving near New Haven, Connecticut!" I don't ever remember anyone ever really jumping with joy, pretending to know where it is, or at least even heard of it.
     "Jordan! Can you hurry up please?" My mother's sing song voice came from down the stairs. There was always something about the way she talked to me, never really actually telling me to do something, yet never actually giving me the option not to actually do it. I turned around and glanced around at everything in my room one final time, the three duffel bags resting on the bed. There was one black suitcase just resting against my bed, the one bag with everything that I really needed, from my electronics to my books. Even that stupid little diary that I was forced to get back in freshman year to express my feelings was also hidden within there.
     A flashback played within my mind as I sat down in the white room, the books lined up in alphabetical order by last name along the black wooden three shelf bookcase. If I stared closely I could almost decipher the second order of the bookshelf, though I didn't know whether it was arranged by order or genre, then placed within alphabetical order, or if it was a favorite order of Chris'.
    Chris, well Mr. Lattimore, was a middle aged man, his hair mostly black with some silver strands fighting for dominance. He was the CEO of button ups, the man never being caught in anything that looked like it cost less than two hundred dollars. His voice was more on the deep end, but not in the way that was alluring but lecturing like a teacher. Not the teachers you dream about but the ones you never weant angry because they just give you those disappointed looks. The look that eats you up from the inside and makes you word vomit everything you've done wrong within the past couple months when they're only asking about something you did earlier that day or yesterday. That's Mr. Lattimore. He's the keeper of my secrets, the one who I confess everything to and honestly my therapist is my biggest confidant and the one who made me get the diary since I wasn't going to see him much.
     Our last conversation played in my mind as I sat across from him, pulling the strings on my hoodie. Looking at those unearthly grey eyes was never the thing to do so I always went in there with some type of clothing distraction.
     "You spoke about being lonely." He said finally after five minutes of silence. I looked up at him, his chin hair was turning more grey which was abnormal for him. He kept himself together so the grey must've meant something was bothering him.
     "How's your wife?" I asked him.
     "So, what about your friend Natalie?" He asked me. Natalie was my best friend, who was just as heartbroken about the move than I was. I shrugged my shoulders, not really wanting to focus on the fact that I wouldn't see my friend until it was time for a vacation.
     "When's the last time you talked to her?" He asked me.
     "Yesterday, well last night, before bed actually." I told him. It wasn't a lie. He knew it wasn't, but he knew that also wasn't all. He was staring at me, waiting to figure out the rest of the story, if there was even one for him to try and understand me better. "I told her I was leaving, she doesn't want me to go."
     He clicked his pen and started to write more. "Why doesn't she want you to go?"
     I shrugged my shoulders at him, looking at the wall and trying to figure out what to say. "It's not like she doesn't want me to go, she wants me to have a new adventure in life. She just knows it's hard to make friends. Not to mention she doesn't want me to get into trouble."
     "What kind of trouble?" He asked me. I shrugged my shoulders, not sure myself. Hm, there was a party, alcohol, or drugs. Maybe she was saying don't get kidnapped and traded into the sex trade or held for ransom. I wasn't sure, so to emphasize I added the grunt that goes with the shoulder shrug. I could feel his eyes trying to pull mines to meet his though I ended up resting them on the bookcase. For some odd reason most psychiatrists tended to have these books that were all difficult to pronounce and I'm sure even more difficult to understand.
     "Honestly, I think I will be fine. I just have trouble opening up to others, and sometimes I go out of my way to get attention. She doesn't want me to be lonely." I whispered softly. His ears never missed a thing as he started to write down that sentence and his thoughts on my statement. I couldn't help but think about what his thoughts were. He had a laptop that he kept on the desk, I'm pretty sure with a digital copy of everything.
     "Lonely isn't always a bad thing is it?" He asked. I shrugged my shoulders, not really sure how to actually answer that one. I'm not really sure I've ever been alone at any point of my life, always trying to surround myself with someone, though this town was a lot different than the one I was going to.
     "How are you getting to Connecticut?"
     "By train."
     "Ever taken one before?" He asked me. I shook my head. "Traveling alone?" I shook my head again. "Mom?" I smiled a bit. She babied me, which was to be expected being the only child. I was also a tad bit socially awkward, usually either shying away from others or just doing everything I can to get anyone to notice me. I can't blame my mom, she couldn't have any children after me. Some problem with her uterus, my birth being a complication within itself, and she wouldn't let me forget that I was her miracle child.
      "Are you afraid?" He asked me.
     "Of course, it wouldn't be worth it if I wasn't right?" He smirked at my response.
      "So you're a believer of good things being a challenge?"
     "Not good things, just worthwhile." He nodded in agreement, looking down at his phone. "Are we going to be able to keep up our meetings?" I asked him.
     "Video conferences on Zoom every Thursday at five-twenty seems fine for me, how about you?"
     "It'll work." I answered, relieved that at least something else was going to stay normal in my life. My phone beeped with my mom telling me that she's outside.
     "I'll see you thursday." I whispered.
     "You got this." He encouraged me.
     "You're starting to sound like Natalie." I told him.
     A smile crossed his face before he winked at me. "My niece is an intelligent young lady don't you think."
"Jordan!" My mother yelled, snapping me back into reality. I grabbed my bags, jetting down the stairs before she could yell for me again. My father looked at me, a smile in his eyes as he grabbed my bags from my hands. I tried to grab them back but he assured me that he had it, most likely feeling bad that he wasn't free to travel the entire way with me. I let him walk off towards the car as my mom came up behind me, sniffling softly.
"Seriously, we're leaving together." I said to her. "Can't you hold off until later?"
"No promises!" She told me. "I'm surprised you're not more emotional. It's going to be four and a half months before you can see your room again."
I looked around, taking everything in as long as I could to get some sort of mental picture to keep with me. "You're not making this easier on me, you know?"
"Shouldn't dad be crying?" I asked, raising a brow.
"Name one time you've ever seen him cry." She said leading me outside and locking up behind us.
I thought long and hard, my face twisting in concentration as we walked down the pathway to the car that was in the driveway. "Dad doesn't cry?" I asked before we split and entered on opposite sides.
She sat beside my father, buckling up, before pulling down the visor. She looked through the mirror, making sure I did the same, which I did reluctantly. "I never said that." She said finally before finding some reason to go into her purse for an instrument to fiddle with her face with. My father started up the car and our eyes met in the rear mirror. For the first time I saw them and not just quickly glanced. Even though his eyes were clear he couldn't use drops on the bags he carried.