“This isn’t over, Elijah. How can you decide to sleep with my best friend and act like I’m the bad guy? How can you?—”
Anger makes my eyesight blurry.How can you—?!Despite my better judgment, I spin around to face him. “How dare I? Is that really what you’re leading with? You have been nothing but a shitty father since you found us kissing on the beach. I don’t even know who you are. I never thought you’d treat me this way. Okay, I disappointed you. Yes, you’re angry that we lied.”
“I thought I taught you better than to be seduced by?—”
“Stop!” I shout. “Just stop right now. I’m not doing this with you. Do you even hear the disgusting things coming out of your mouth thatyou knowaren’t true?”
“How do I know they’re not true? You were a child?—”
“I WAS A CHILD THREE YEARS AGO!” I scream. “Not three months ago. There’s a fucking difference.”
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Dad says as he follows me off the stairs. His face is red. I’ve never seen him look that way. Ever. Not just never toward me, but never in my entire life toward anyone. “I don’t get an apology. I don’t get an explanation. You both act like I’m nothing but a side character who became an obstacle in your way. You took no consideration of how I would feel. How am I supposed to respond to these stories of grooming? How can I not see that in hindsight? How can?—”
I take several steps away from him. “You’re a shitty person!” I spit and turn away, hurt and frustrated tears trekking down my face.
“Elijah!”
I run down the road. “Fuck off, Dad. Go to hell. And take your bullshit with you. Stay away from me!”
When you’re so angry that all you have are tears, you can’t help but feel small and ridiculous as you’re sobbing, running down the road in front of a crowd of people who are happy to repeat your business as if it’s a hot new movie. Running away from home with your parents screaming your name after you.
I don’t stop running. I have no idea where I’m going. I just keep running. I need to get as far away from them as I possibly can.
Chapter Thirty-Four
LAIKEN
It’s noteasy getting brand-new furniture or furniture specific to a space on an island. It typically takes weeks to months for an order to get in, depending on where you purchase it from. Kala is between Hawaii and the South Pacific as our two closest bodies of land, which means our furniture comes primarily from Mexico. Being an island chain itself, Hawaii has the same challenges we do.
There are some local options, but not enough to go around. If I were handier, I could probably whip up some basic furniture, however by the time I fuck around and ruin a whole bunch of wood, it’d cost me about the same just to purchase it from overseas.
Weeks ago, once I emptied my spare room for painting, I knew I wanted to do something different, so I sold everything. Which hadn’t been much. The room had always been sparse. I think I only kept the bed because Lie would spend the night as a kid. And then later, he and Cash would spend the night.
I close my eyes, remembering the last time they did. I can still hear their laughter echoing off the walls as I peeked in to find them sitting cross-legged on the bed with their heads huddled together. A smile touches my lips. That was in high school. Right before graduation. The last time anyone ever used this room.
Opening my eyes again, the room is now surrounded by boxes. Very large boxes of furniture. I’m still not entirely sure I know what I want this room to be in the long run, but I no longer want it as a spare bedroom.
I’m not a huge reader, despite loving to write. I think it’s because the stories I want to read aren’t the ones I can find. I’m fascinated by King Arthur, his knights, chivalry, and that era in time. But I don’t want a retelling of the same stories. I don’t want a modern retelling or modern embodiment of their spirits.
I want King Arthur and his knights, but I want them gay. The world is stupidly naïve if it thought that our greatest heroes, the greatest civilizations, every moment in time, weren’t filled with homosexuality and bisexuality. Even in nature, every damn animal species readily practices homosexuality.
But it’s not gay people who write histories, and as the memes go, history will say that they were best friends and roommates.
Granted, I’m sure that notallof King Arthur’s knights were gay. But you best bet your chainmail that they crossed some swords off the battlefield. I don’t need history to report it. I don’t need evidence that historians are going to label them as ‘just good friends.’
However, if I want stories of those periods in time as a reflection of human nature, then I’m going to need to write them myself. And since there are plenty of writers who reimagine King Arthur with all the big-busted ladies, I’m going to reimagine him with lots of big-balled knights.
Someday, maybe I’ll consider publishing some of my gay fairy tales and shit. If that day comes, I’m going to needbookshelves for my books, and this is how I came to the conclusion that I’m going to build a library out of my spare room.
I also commissioned a hand-carved desk worthy of such a library, hoping it’ll inspire me to use an actual office space to write instead of sitting on my couch or at my kitchen counter. I don’t have any actual faith in that idea, but if I have the space, I might at least try it.
Once.
Now that I’m standing here looking at all these boxes, I’m feeling very overwhelmed. Who knew a dozen bookshelves would come in two dozen really big boxes? Where do I even begin?
My gaze catches on Lie’s dick chair that I bought him for his birthday. Smiling, I push it into the closet to keep it safe. Hmm. I didn’t make him cover it in cum. We got distracted. That means we still need to break in this chair. In the shape of a dick, it justscreamsneeding to be covered in jizz.
Now that my immature entertainment is gone, I spend the next several minutes arranging my boxes so that they lean against the wall where they’ll be. There’s some open space around the windows that I hope to fill in with maybe a window seat under one and the other, which will be behind the desk, a counter with storage underneath.
