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January 2016
Snow clung to the edges of the courtyard like a bad mood. The kind that had been sitting there for days, grey and heavy, refusing to melt. It looked like a slushie, and not the good kind. Students pushed through the school’s front doors in clusters, all bundled in coats and scarves, complaining loudly about how winter break hadn’t been long enough. Their voices echoed down the halls—the shrill laughter of girls, the thud of boots, the slam of lockers. Everything was too loud, too bright, and too goddamn alive for a Monday morning.
Luke shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his oversized denim jacket, shoulders hunched against the cold that followed him even inside. His breath still came out in faint, cloudy puffs as he made his way through the corridor.
A group of juniors brushed past him, one of them muttering something about the “freak club.” Luke didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. He’d heard it all before.
He reached the art wing and turned into the small classroom tucked behind the pottery room, the one most people forgot even existed. It was technically used for “creative electives,” but for Luke and Eli, it had become their morning base and the unofficial headquarters of the GSA.
It was empty when he stepped in. The old radiator in the corner clanked like it was dying, but the room was warm enough. Luke tossed his bag onto one of the tables and slumped into the seat beside it, tugging off his beanie and running a hand through his messy hair.
The whiteboard still had GSA Meeting – Fridays 3:30 scrawled across it in Eli’s handwriting from last semester. There were faded rainbow stickers peeling off the wall near the window, and a dusty pride flag drooping slightly off its tack. Luke stared at it for a moment, letting out a small sigh.
He wasn’t sure if the club actually helped anyone. Most of the time, it was just him, Eli, and the one sophomore girl who never said a word but always brought cookies. But it gave him a reason to show up early, a reason to feel like maybe he still belonged somewhere. He leaned back in his chair, blowing on his hands to warm them, and muttered under his breath, “Happy new year, I guess.”
The clock ticked. The radiator groaned again. And then the door opened behind him.
Eli’s voice broke the silence, cheerful as ever despite the morning chill. “I missed ya.”
“Likewise,” Luke said.
“You look like death warmed over.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth anyway. “You’re late.”
Eli dropped his backpack onto the nearest desk with a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, because I nearly died walking here. It’s like, minus fifteen out there. My eyelashes froze.”
“Tragic,” Luke muttered, drumming his fingers against the table.
Eli grinned, unbothered by the sarcasm. “You missed me.”
“In your dreams.”
“Obviously,” Eli said with mock seriousness, then unzipped his bag. “Anyway, I brought something.”
Luke groaned softly. “If it’s another one of those weird vegan muffins again, I swear—”
“It’s not food, jackass.” Eli pulled out a handful of colourful papers, fanning them out on the table like playing cards. “Posters. For the GSA.”
Luke leaned forward reluctantly. The papers were bright. They had bold fonts, doodled rainbows, and slogans like ‘Safe Spaces Start with Us’ and ‘Be Proud, Not Quiet.’ Some had quick sketches of diverse faces of guys, girls, and everything in between. They were all smiling, and all looked far too happy.
Eli’s grin widened. “Cool, right?”
Luke rubbed his neck. “They’re… nice.”
“‘Nice,'” Eli repeated flatly. “That’s all you’ve got? I slaved away over the break making these.”
“I mean, they’re colourful,” Luke said, still studying them. “But… I don’t know.”
Eli frowned. “Don’t know what?”
Luke hesitated, staring at one of the posters. Especially the one with a rainbow flag drawn across the bottom. “I just… I don’t think people are gonna react well.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “You mean the jerks?”
“Yeah,” Luke said quietly. “You remember what happened last semester. Someone ripped down the ‘Queer and Proud’ sign we put up outside the library. And that was just one poster.”
Eli crossed his arms, leaning back against the desk. “So what, we stop trying because a few assholes can’t handle rainbows?”
“No,” Luke said quickly. “I’m just saying…” He trailed off, voice softening. “I don’t wanna be a target again.”
Eli’s expression softened too. “Hey,” he said gently. “You already are a target. And you’re still here. You’re still showing up. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it? To not back down and let those assholes win.”
Luke gave him a half-hearted glare. “Don’t turn this into a therapy session.”
Eli chuckled. “Fine. But seriously, Luke. The club’s supposed to be for people like us. People who need somewhere that doesn’t suck. If we hide it away, what’s even the point?”
Luke sighed, staring at the posters again. He could practically feel the hallway stares already, the whispered names, the snickers behind hands. It wasn’t new, just exhausting. “It’s not that simple,” he said quietly. “You don’t get it.”
Eli tilted his head. “Then explain it to me.”
Luke swallowed. “You can still pass. You can be queer and people don’t see it unless you tell them. But me…” He gestured vaguely to himself—his hoodie, his short hair, his still-slight frame. “They look at me and they don’t see a guy. They see what I used to be. They see something they think is wrong. Every time someone laughs in the hall or looks twice, I wonder if they’re laughing at me or if they remember her.“
Eli’s smile faltered, replaced by something more thoughtful. “Luke…”
Luke looked away. “I just don’t want another reason for people to remind me I’m different.”
The room went quiet except for the low buzz of the heater. Eli tapped one of the posters, the one that said ‘Safe Spaces Start with Us.’ He looked serious. “Okay,” he said finally. “Then we don’t put your name on them.”
Luke blinked. “What?”
Eli shrugged. “You don’t have to be the face of it. I’ll put mine. Or none at all. You can help me from behind the scenes if that feels better. Just don’t give up on it. We built this thing together, remember?”
Luke exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “You’re too good at this ‘being supportive’ thing.”
Eli smirked. “Yeah, I know. It’s a curse.”
Luke laughed softly despite himself. “Fine. We can hang them up. But if someone shoves me into a locker, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” Eli said brightly, gathering the posters back into a neat pile. “We’ll hang them after lunch. Oh, and I saved us the big one for the main hallway. You know, maximum exposure.”
Luke groaned. “You’re gonna get me murdered.”
Eli grinned. “If we die, we die fabulous.”
Luke shook his head, smiling despite the knot of anxiety that still sat in his chest. Maybe Eli was right. Maybe it was worth being seen, even if it hurt sometimes. Still, as the first bell rang and the distant sound of students filled the hall, Luke couldn’t help the quiet thought that slipped in anyway: He wished he didn’t feel so scared of being himself in a place where everyone else seemed determined to remind him who he used to be.
“Time for art,” Eli said. “Come on.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Luke said. “I justn need to use the restroom.”
“Okay, hurry.”
The crowd outside the art wing was already moving as Luke made his way towards the boys toilets. It was a blur of coats, chatter, and the occasional paper snowball being lobbed by someone who thought they were funny. He adjusted his backpack strap, earbuds dangling uselessly from his pocket. He was halfway down the main hall when he caught sight of a familiar mess of blond curls and a lacrosse jacket.
Gabe.
And, of course, Gabe’s tongue was halfway down some girl’s throat.
They were pressed against a locker. Her leg was bent, his hand was on her waist, and the whole school was just aimlessly walking by like it was completely normal. Luke rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. He stopped just long enough to mutter, “Christ, get a room.”
Gabe broke the kiss, looking up with that annoyingly smug grin. “Morning to you too, squirt.”
The girl giggled and tucked her hair behind her ear, clearly not phased by the interruption.
Luke crossed his arms. “You’re gonna be late for class.”
“So are you,” Gabe shot back, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “And besides, I’m the captain of the lacrosse team. The rules don’t really apply to me.”
Luke made a face. “Wow. You actually said that out loud.”
“Relax,” Gabe laughed. “You’re so uptight in the mornings.”
“Maybe because I don’t enjoy public displays of saliva exchange before first period.”
Gabe grinned wider, clearly entertained. “Noted.” Then his expression shifted, a flicker of calculation that Luke immediately recognised. “Hey, speaking of notes. I need to ask you something.”
Luke sighed. “That tone never means anything good.”
“It’s nothing big,” Gabe said quickly, turning slightly so the girl (Maddie, if Luke remembered right) leaned against his arm. “So, uh, Friday night. You got plans?”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Gabe smiled too easily. “Because, you know, Mom and Dad are going out of town for that charity thing. And I thought maybe you could, I don’t know, hang out with Eli or something?”
“Why?” Luke repeated flatly.
Gabe scratched the back of his neck. “Because I was thinking of having Maddie over. Just to hang out. Watch a movie. You know.”
Luke stared at him. “You’re actually asking me to get lost so you can hook up with your girlfriend?”
“‘Hook up’ is such an aggressive term,” Gabe said. “We might just talk.”
Maddie giggled.
Luke deadpanned. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s all you’ll be doing.”
“Come on, Luke,” Gabe said, lowering his voice. “It’s one night. All you do is stay in your room and play that depressing music you like anyway. You might as well do that at Eli’s.”
Luke lifted an eyebrow. “You could also, hear me out, not have her over while Mom and Dad are gone. They trust you. You’re breaking that trust.”
Gabe groaned. “You sound just like them.”
“Maybe that’s because you act like a kid,” Luke muttered.
Maddie nudged Gabe’s arm with a laugh. “He’s kind of funny.”
“He’s kind of annoying,” Gabe corrected, smirking. “But he’s my brother. So what do you say, squirt? You’ll make yourself scarce on Friday?”
Luke hesitated, mostly because the idea of being around to hear them was nauseating. “Fine,” he said finally. “But if Mom finds out, I’m blaming you.”
Gabe grinned, triumphant. “Deal.”
Luke started to walk away, muttering under his breath, “I swear, I’m living with a giant idiot.”
“Love you too!” Gabe called after him, laughing.
Luke didn’t turn around, but he flipped him off over his shoulder. It made Gabe laugh even harder.
Luke hesitated outside the bathroom door when he reached it, his breath fogging the air as he stared at the bold black “M” sign. Even months later, it still made his stomach twist a little, like he was stepping into a place he wasn’t supposed to be.
He double-checked the hallway.
Empty.
He pushed the door open quickly, eyes glued to the floor as he moved past the row of urinals. He went straight to a stall, locked it, and exhaled only when he was alone. The hum of the flickering light above him filled the silence. It was dumb, how much thought went into something so small. Honestly, just using the bathroom gave him a headache sometimes. But that’s what it was now. A calculation. Every single time.
After he was done, he washed his hands fast and left before anyone else came in.
By the time he got to his art class, Mrs Farrow was standing at the front, gesturing animatedly toward the projector where a painting of The Starry Night glowed on the screen. Her voice carried easily over the chatter.
“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Davies,” she said pointedly when Luke slipped through the door.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he hurried to his seat beside Eli.
Eli gave him a small grin as he sat down. “Good pee?” he whispered.
“The best,” Luke replied, flipping open his sketchbook.
Mrs. Farrow launched into a long talk about Van Gogh’s brushstrokes and emotional turmoil, and normally Luke would’ve been into it. He actually liked art. But today, his mind was foggy, and his focus kept slipping. He glanced at Eli, who was doodling a little swirl of stars in the corner of his notebook. For a moment, Luke smiled. Then there was a knock at the door.
Mrs. Farrow paused mid-sentence. “Yes?”
The door opened, and the principal, Mr. Hayes, stepped in. He was a tall and serious man with the kind of expression that made the whole room go quiet. His gaze swept over the students before landing squarely on Luke and Eli.
“Mr. Coleman. Mr. Davies,” he said. “I need to speak with you both in my office.”
Luke’s stomach dropped as the entire room bursted with ooooo’s.
Mrs. Farrow looked between them and the principal, clearly surprised. “Is everything alright?”
“I’ll explain later,” Mr. Hayes said simply. “Boys, if you’ll come with me.”
The class erupted in whispers again as Luke and Eli stood up slowly and unsurely. Luke could feel twenty pairs of eyes drilling into his back as he gathered his bag.
Eli leaned close as they walked toward the door. “What did we do?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” Luke muttered, heart thudding.
Eli frowned.
As they followed the principal down the long, echoing corridor, Luke’s palms grew sweaty. Every step felt heavier than the last. By the time they reached Mr. Hayes’s office Luke had convinced himself it was bad. Really bad.
Eli caught his eye as they stopped outside. “We’re probably not in trouble,” he said quietly, as if saying it might make it true.
Luke nodded, but his chest still felt tight.
Then Mr. Hayes gestured them inside. “Come in, boys. We need to talk.”
Luke’s pulse thudded in his ears as he and Eli sat down in the two chairs across from Mr. Hayes’s desk. The office smelled like coffee and old printer ink, and a little plaque on the desk read “Principal R. Hayes — Leadership. Integrity. Excellence.” Luke stared at the word Integrity and felt his stomach twist.
Mr. Hayes folded his hands together and looked at them both with that practiced “I’m not mad, just disappointed” expression teachers seemed to master.
“It’s come to my attention,” he began slowly, “that the two of you have been running a club without any official faculty oversight or approval.”
Eli shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We’re not really running it yet, sir. We just… meet up sometimes and talk about ideas for—”
Mr. Hayes raised a hand to stop him. “Regardless, the school has a very clear policy about extracurricular organisations. Every club must have a registered staff advisor, a meeting space booked through the office, and permission from the board to operate on school property.”
Luke swallowed hard. “We didn’t know that,” he said quietly.
“I find that hard to believe, Mr. Davies,” Mr. Hayes replied, arching a brow. “The policy is listed in the student handbook, which you both received at the beginning of the year.”
Eli started to speak, but Luke could tell from his tone that it wouldn’t help. The principal wasn’t angry, just rigid, the way adults got when they wanted to sound reasonable while missing the whole point.
Mr. Hayes leaned forward slightly. “I understand your intentions may be good. But there are procedures in place for a reason. Clubs need supervision and structure, especially when dealing with topics that can be, let’s say, sensitive.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. “Sensitive how?”
Mr. Hayes blinked. “Well… issues related to gender and sexuality can sometimes make other students or parents uncomfortable.”
Eli let out a small, incredulous laugh. “Uncomfortable? We’re just trying to make a safe space for people to talk about—”
“I’m not saying you can’t,” Mr. Hayes interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “I’m saying you need to do it properly. File a proposal, find a staff sponsor, and wait for it to be approved. Until then, you are not to hold meetings under the school’s name or distribute materials.”
Luke’s heart sank. “What about the posters?” he asked. “We already put some up around the school.”
“I’d suggest taking those down immediately,” Mr. Hayes said. “You can resubmit them once the club is officially recognised.”
There was a long pause. Eli nodded stiffly, trying to stay polite. “Okay, sir. We understand.”
Mr. Hayes gave a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good. I appreciate your cooperation. I’m sure once you follow the proper channels, everything will go smoothly.”
Luke wanted to say something, maybe to ask why their club needed to be handled like it was radioactive when others seemed to pop up without issue. But his throat felt tight, and the words stuck somewhere behind his teeth.
“Thank you for your time,” Mr. Hayes said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
They stood up and left the office in silence. The door clicked shut behind them.
For a long moment, they just stood there in the empty hallway.
Then Eli exhaled sharply. “Well, that sucked.”
Luke nodded. “Yeah.”
Eli kicked at the floor, frustrated. “I knew they’d find out eventually, but I thought maybe they’d be cool about it.”
“They’re never cool about it,” Luke muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.
Eli glanced at him. “So what do we do now?”
Luke’s gaze drifted down the hall, where one of their bright GSA posters was still taped to a noticeboard. The bold rainbow border suddenly looked out of place, all loud and hopeful in a school that didn’t want to hear either.
“We follow the rules, I guess,” he said finally. “Like everyone else.”
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The sky was already ink-black when Luke left the house on Friday evening, his breath clouding in the freezing air. He’d thrown on two hoodies, his heaviest coat, and a beanie that didn’t match anything else he was wearing, but whatever. Gabe and Maddy were practically drooling all over each other back home, and he’d promised to disappear for the night.
He kicked at a pile of half-frozen leaves as he walked the few blocks to the small movie theater downtown. It wasn’t much, just four screens, flickering lights, and the faint smell of butter that clung to the walls, but it was warm and, more importantly, quiet. Maybe he’d watch something stupid and loud. Something where people blew stuff up so he didn’t have to think. He wished he could hang out with Eli, his only friend. But unfortunately, he was busy tonight. Something about going out of town to meet his grandparents.
When Luke pushed open the glass door, the warm air hit his face and he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped inside, pulling down his scarf, already reaching for his wallet. But then he froze.
Behind the glass of the box office window sat Young.
His usual lacrosse jacket was gone, replaced by a bright blue uniform vest that somehow made him look even taller. His dark hair was messy like he’d been running his hands through it all night, and he had a bored, half-asleep look until his gaze flicked up and landed on Luke.
The air shifted instantly.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Luke muttered under his breath.
Young blinked once, then straightened, recognition sparking across his face. “Oh. Uh, hey.”
Luke just stared at him. Of all the people in this entire city, he had to be working the box office tonight?
“Are you gonna… say what movie you want to watch?” Young asked after a beat, voice awkward but trying to sound casual.
Luke shoved his hands into his pockets. “Are you gonna tell me when you decided to start working here?”
Young gave a half-shrug. “Couple weeks ago. Needed extra cash. My mom cut my allowance after I failed my midterm.”
“Tragic,” Luke deadpanned.
“Yeah, it really is,” Young said with a crooked smile that Luke didn’t return. He cleared his throat, tapping the screen in front of him. “So? You seeing something or just here to judge me?”
“Depends what’s showing.” Luke leaned to look at the movie list taped beside the glass. “Guess I’ll do the sci-fi one. The one with the guy and the robot. Whatever.”
“Two for Chrono Rift, then.”
“One,” Luke snapped automatically. “Just one.”
Young’s eyebrows lifted a little, like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Instead, he printed the ticket and slid it under the glass. Their fingers brushed for half a second, cold skin against warm, and Luke jerked his hand back like he’d been burned.
“That’ll be nine fifty,” Young said quietly.
Luke dropped a crumpled ten on the counter, snatched his ticket, and muttered, “Keep the change.”
He turned to go, but Young’s voice stopped him. “Hey, Luke?”
Luke paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
Young scratched the back of his neck, clearly hesitating. “Why are you here by yourself?”
“What?”
“I meant, like, where’s your friend? That guy. What’s his name? Eli?” Young asked.
“Eli’s busy.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” They both stared at each other for another minute before Luke frowned. “Is there something else or can I go and enjoy my movie?” he asked sassily.
Young pursed his lips. “Whatever. Enjoy your film.”
Luke rolled his eyes and walked off. He eventually slumped into one of the back seats of the theater, the smell of buttery popcorn already filling his nostrils. The lights dimmed, the opening credits rolled, and within fifteen minutes, he was ready to gouge his eyes out.
The movie sucked. Or maybe it didn’t, it was just hard to care when the dialogue sounded like it had been written by a dumb teenager and every character made the same dramatic face before every explosion. Luke half-watched, half-scrolled through his phone on low brightness, glancing up now and then just to keep up with the plot.
By the time the credits rolled, only three other people were still in the room. He stretched his arms above his head, yawned, and shuffled out.
The lobby was quieter now, echoing with the low hum of the popcorn machine and faint pop music playing over the speakers. He checked the time and sighed. Still too early to go home.
So he wandered to the corner where the claw machine glowed a sickly neon green, stuffed animals trapped behind glass, staring out with beady plastic eyes. He fed a coin in and started playing just to keep his hands busy. The claw dropped, missed, and clattered uselessly against the side.
“Those things are rigged, you know.”
Luke’s head snapped up. Young stood a few feet away, arms folded, his nametag glinting under the fluorescent lights.
“Thanks for the life-changing insight,” Luke said dryly.
Young smirked. “Just saying. You’ll lose all your money before you win anything.”
“Good thing I only have, like, two dollars left, then.”
“You could spend it on popcorn instead.”
“Already ate before I came,” Luke muttered, pressing the joystick again.
For a second, they just stood there, the claw machine clinking faintly between them. Then Young spoke again, quieter this time.
“So… you really came alone?”
Luke didn’t look up. “Yeah. Not a crime, is it?”
“No, I just—” Young hesitated. “Didn’t think you were the type to go to a movie by yourself.”
Luke gave a humourless laugh. “Guess you don’t know me that well.”
Young leaned against the side of the machine, studying him. “You’re right. I don’t. But maybe I could?”
That made Luke finally glance up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing bad,” Young said quickly, hands raised. “I dunno. I feel like I only ever see you when something’s going wrong. You always look mad at the world.”
“Maybe the world’s just been a dick to me,” Luke said flatly.
Young’s mouth twitched like he wanted to smile but didn’t. “Fair enough.”
There was another pause. It was awkward but not unbearable. Luke moved the claw again, watching it wobble above a plush dinosaur.
“Y’know,” Young said eventually, “you were right about what you said about me.”
Luke frowned. “About what?”
“You don’t remember those awful things you said to me a few months ago?”
“Huh?”
“Wow,” Young said dryly. “The night you said you hated me, you also spewed a lot of nonsense about me being fake. I’m trying to tell you that you were right. My mom really does think I’m some perfect angel. Or, well, she did before I kept screwing up.”
Luke blinked, surprised by the honesty.
Young huffed out a laugh at Luke’s reaction. “I don’t take back what I said about you stereotyping me, but I do think you were right. Turns out, the more I party, the less I concentrate on my grades. She wasn’t happy at all.”
Luke shrugged. “I knew I was right.”
“You have a big head.”
“And you have a big mouth,” Luke said. His next coin actually caught on a plush (barely) and for one glorious second, the claw held it before dropping it again. “Fuck!”
“See?” Young said, smirking. “Told you it was rigged.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet you’re still standing here talking to me,” Young said, teasing now.
Luke shot him a look but didn’t move. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just waiting for the bus.”
“Sure you are,” Young said, his tone playful.
Luke turned away, but he couldn’t help the tiny, reluctant smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m serious. Gabe has Maddy over and he wanted me out of the house. I had no choice but to come here. I don’t usually like hanging out alone, especially in public, but like I said earlier, Eli is busy or else I would have been at his house instead.”
“Wait, what? Gabe kicked you out?” Young asked, frowning deeply.
If Luke didn’t know any better, he’d say Young looked a little annoyed.
“Kinda,” Luke shrugged. “I mean, not really. He asked, and I caved.”
“You shouldn’t have to leave your house just because your brother wants to get laid. That’s not really fair is it? It’s your house too,” Young said sternly.
“I know that,” Luke said with another roll of his eyes.
“So you should have put your foot down.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“What’s with all the questions?” Luke huffed. “And why do you care anyway?”
“Because you shouldn’t be out here by yourself on a Friday night and you definitely shouldn’t be taking the bus home alone. Anything could happen,” Young said in an annoyed voice.
“Oh yeah?” Luke scoffed. “What, you don’t think I can handle myself?”
“It’s not about handling yourself.”
“Would you say the same thing to your lacrosse buddies?” Luke asked sharply.
“What?”
“Would you tell them that they shouldn’t be taking the bus home alone on a Friday night?” Luke asked, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to stand a little taller. But unfortunately, Young towered over him whether Luke liked it or not.
“No, but—”
“Oh, so it’s only me that shouldn’t be taking a bus home alone, huh?”
Young rolled his eyes. “Why do you always have to be so stubborn? You’re taking this the wrong way.”
“How else am I supposed to take it?” Luke snapped.
“Take it that I give a shit about you and don’t want anything bad to happen to you!” Young snapped back, suddenly not being able to stay calm.
Luke’s jaw went slack. “What?”
Young looked downright angry now. “Seriously, all you ever do is think the worst of me. What the fuck is your problem?”
Now it was Luke’s turn to be baffled. “You can’t seriously be getting angry at me for—”
“I’m not angry, I’m pissed off,” Young snapped.
“It’s the same thing!”
“Well, not to me.”
“You’re such a child,” Luke scoffed.
“Oh, I’m the child? Says the one who can’t stop being an asshole for 5 fucking seconds. All I’ve ever wanted to do is try and be nice to you, but you can’t let go of one tiny comment I made whilst I was drunk months ago!” Young shot out. “When are you gonna let it go? I’ve tried to apologise so many times and you just won’t let go of this animosity. I’m trying to be a good friend to Gabe by also trying to befriend you but all you care about is playing the victim.”
“The victim?” Luke asked in a small voice, suddenly losing all his anger and only feeling sadness.
“You think it’s so hard being you, right?” Young asked rhetorically. “I get that you’re used to people being mean to you for something you can’t control, but now you have somebody who is trying his fucking best to make amends. Somebody who actually still wants to talk to you like you’re a decent human being. But you just don’t care.”
By the time Young had finished his rant, he was breathing hard and looked more tired than angry. Luke blinked across at him, suddenly feeling smaller than ever, but before he could say anything to defend himself, Young let out an exhausted sigh.
“Whatever, Luke. You hate me, right? So I guess I’ll stop trying to be your friend. Congratulations, you got your wish. I’ll ignore your entire existence from now on and we never have to speak again.”
Then, Young walked away. Luke stared after him, his lips parted and his chest aching.
What the fuck had he done?
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