Who in their right mind would ask a teenager to write a 4000 word essay on the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald anyway? To me, English class was simply the fine art of over analyzing very old pieces of literature. It was usually pretty easy for me to string together some intricate sounding sentences about these old novels. My English teacher loved me for it, but for this particular essay, I was utterly incapable of replicating the excellence of my previous work. All I knew was that Nick Carraway was definitely gay for Gatsby. _________ When two high school boys find themselves being forced into partnership for a class project, things get interesting. With Callaway's snarky remarks and hidden secrets, and Chance's accidental girlfriend, their path to completing high school is anything but straight. _________ Discaimer: This is boyxboy so if this makes anyone uncomfortable, this is me warning you. Also, The Great Gatsby does not belong to me, copyright is to F Scott Fitzgerald. With the references to the novel in my story, I am in no way trying to mock or make fun of the novel, because it is one of my favourite books. Also, the reality of Nick Carraway's homosexuality is arguable, I simply used this opinion for the sake of my story and its plot.

BOOK ONE Coming out was supposed to set Julian free. Instead, it left him with a broken arm, a mother who won't stop preaching, and a silence that grows heavier every day. High school feels like a cage, and Julian is certain he doesn't belong anywhere-until Paul crashes into his world. With his inked skin, effortless charm, and a following that makes him untouchable, Paul should be the last person Julian lets close. But in Paul's arms, Julian feels something he's never known before: safe. As their connection deepens, so does the danger. Loving Paul means risking exposure, rejection, and heartbreak all over again. Worse, it means facing the cruelest voice of all-the one inside Julian's own head. Tender, raw, and unflinching, Open is a story about first love, first heartbreak, and finding the courage to believe you're worthy of both. ::: I could feel it when his body finally went slack, when he'd fallen asleep and soft snores emitted. And I thought I was getting better at this breaking down thing... I honestly did but when I was alone, I seemed to fall apart. Endless serenades of how worthless I'd been and how destructive I was; I was a disappointment to literally everyone and I hated it. My breathing became shallow as I cried for the second time that day, finally feeling content being immersed in guilt. A shudder wracked through my body, tears escaping and Paul pulled me closer as he woke silently. Mumbling soft nothings against my skin and kissing it to slow my breathing, he tried to lull me to sleep, "It's okay, you're okay." Refusing to speak -my voice failing me- his arm came up to wrap around my shoulder and I held him there, placing a small kiss to his tattooed skin in a broken sign of gratitude, I must've run out of tears. And I felt at ease.

Eton often said that Frankie Carrozza was dangerous. But of course he was dangerous: he was a teenaged boy, after all.

"I didn't know you had friends like Isaac," Willa said in greeting. "I don't," muttered Jared. Isaac rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you don't. You have //one// friend like Isaac." His voice turned into this stupid mock whisper and he leaned towards Jared conspiratorially. "It's me, by the way."

Broken boys break hearts.