Miles’ POV
My parents are home.
They have never told me their views on gays, and now that I think I’m sexually attracted to Calvin, I guess I’m considered gay. I don’t like labels but they won’t care.
They can’t know this was a date. What do I say it was? Just casually hanging out with the mayor?
I had zoned out, and when I came to, Calvin had opened my door and had his hand out for me to grab. Grabbing his hand, after I unbuckle, he helps my tiny frame out of the car.
The wind is blowing, making my curls fly in one direction. “I’ll walk you to your doorstep,” Calvin says after admiring me for a minute or two.
We reach my doorstep, and I’m hoping my parents aren’t watching this. “I guess this is goodbye,” I say solemnly, not wanting him to leave.
“This is see you soon,” he states full of confidence.
“I had a great time, Calvin. Can we please do this again?” I ask unsure of myself, not wanting to get rejected.
“Of course, my little rabbit. I’m glad you hopped into my life,” he smirks, as I lightly laugh at his joke.
Forgetting that my parents might see, I stand on my tippy toes, and connect our lips. I kiss him softly, still unsure of myself. What if he was just being nice before, and he doesn’t actually like me?
My thoughts are proven wrong when he kisses me back with vigor. He cups my face in his hands, his thumb gently grazing over my cheekbone. My arms go around his neck, pulling him closer.
We kiss until I’m out of breath, him continuing his attack, moving down to my neck. He kisses a certain spot that makes me shiver with pleasure. He smirks against my neck as he continues his assault on that spot.
He pulls away and looks at me, breathless. We’re both breathless, me from pleasure.
I look up at him through my thick lashes and blush a bright red. “Goodbye, little rabbit. Hop to see you soon.” Laughing at his pun, he walks away chuckling.
I whisper, “Goodbye,” but I have a feeling he heard it.
Walking into the house, I see my parents drinking alcohol in the kitchen. No smiles on their faces. When do they ever smile?
When they see me, their faces become slightly angry. I hear the last thing I every wanted to hear, “We know everything.”
“Know what? There’s nothing to know,” I blurt awkwardly. I hope they don’t know.
“We know you became friends with the mayor’s brother and you just went on a date with the mayor. What did you tell him about us?” My father asks in a disgusted tone.
“I didn’t tell him anything! We just hung out,” I insisted not wanting to get in trouble.
My father walks up to me. I cower away, scared. He raises his fist and just as he’s about to punch me, my mom urges, “Don’t hit him, just let it go.”
“Let it go? How can I just let this fag go without punishment?” He yells at my mother, before turning to me and punching me, hard.
I’ve never been hit by my father before. My family has only ever verbally abused me, never going the extra step.
My father just seems angrier than he was before. “You,” punch, “dirty,” punch, “fag,” punch.
I’m laying on the ground by now, taking blow after blow. “You disgusting piece of shit! Get out of my house right now!” He screeches, and I look to my mother, hoping she insists I stay.
Her face is blank, and I see a hint of sorrow in her eyes. She nods her head, and with that, I walk out the front door.
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