All I feel in my stomach is butterflies

The beautiful kind making up for lost time

Chapter 07 ~ Everything Has Changed

Liam Slater

My parents didn't quite agree with my decision to quit school.

They claimed I was giving up years of hard work and the chance of being a successful business man in the future. They said my grieving stage would pass, and I would regret not staying in school. So far, they've been wrong.

How could I go back to that place? It was filled with fake people with fake concerns. They would say, "I heard what happened to Scotty. That's so horrible. He was such a nice kid," like they had any idea who he was. Most of them didn't even know Scotty, let alone liked him. They bullied him, made him feel worthless and unimportant. And yet, they were all apologies when he died.

I had sworn to myself and Scotty that I would never go back to the place that killed him.

But it wasn't like I expected Marcy to understand that, because she had just asked me the most absurd question I had ever heard.

"Hey, did you hear what I said?" She asked. Her deep umber eyes shone in anticipation as she nervously bit down on her plump, bottom lip. She had unknowingly scooted closer to me on my bed - closer than I was willing to allow.

I didn't respond to her question, because I didn't know how to.

"Liam," she said softly as she moved a bit closer to me. Her pink lips curled into a faint smile. "I want you to go to prom with me."

I heard her the first time, but it sounded even more repulsing the second time. Not only did I not want to attend any school events, I also didn't want to attend a school event with Marcy of all people.

She must've sensed my distress because she cleared her throat to quickly clarify the terms of her proposal. "Well, not as a couple or anything," she laughed. "I mean, we can go as friends. I don't have a date and you haven't had any real fun since Scotty, so I want to show you a good time. Please let me?"

Everything inside me told me to say no. Being forced to talk to her right now made me slightly irritated, so I didn't want to imagine what spending a whole night with her would be like. But whether I wanted to admit it or not, Marcy was there for me. I didn't want her to be there, but she was. The least I could do was repay her.

"Fine," I said with a shrug.

"Really?" Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets and rolled onto the floor from all the excitement. She threw her arms around my neck and tackled me onto the bed, squealing in happiness. "This is amazing, Liam!"

I let out a low growl when her grip around my neck tightened and her leg started to slip between mine. "Marcy," I snapped.

She pulled away from the hug almost immediately when she heard how irritated I sounded. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I just got really excited."

I gave her a crazed look, before inching away from her completely.

Marcy was really good at reading emotions. I really didn't know where she got it from, but it annoyed the hell out of me. I could never just be without Marcy chiming in with her theories and solutions to my problems.

She understood there was a bigger issue here, at least when it came to how I was acting. "It's Scotty," she pointed out, "isn't it?"

Marcy was usually right about her speculations, but she had yet to figure out what Scotty really meant to me. I wasn't exactly hiding it from her, but in all honesty, she didn't need to know.

"He won't be there," I said so soft that I could barely hear myself. "Scotty always wanted to go to prom."

Marcy's lips twitched into a small smile as she slouched forward and started to play with her fingers. "Yeah, he would never shut up about it." She let out a short laugh from the remembered memory. Her eyes snapped open and she moved closer to me again, like she didn't learn her lesson the first time. "Can I tell you something?"

I shrugged, because I knew she was going to tell me anyway.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the news she was about to give. "Scotty and I kinda hooked up, once."

My gaze narrowed at her. Everyone knew Scotty was gay. It wasn't a secret. "You're lying." I debunked the information immediately, because I knew it wasn't true and she knew it wasn't true either.

Her eyes went wide in that very instant. "I'm not!"

"Scotty is gay," I fired back at her. "He would never hook up with you."

Her mouth fell open in awe, but I really couldn't care less if she was offended or not. "I know that he's gay," she retorted. "When we hooked up, it was before he figured out his feelings for other boys and stuff. Remember that party at Dee's house?"

My mind went back to the house party Dee Granger threw in freshman year. I could vaguely remember what had occurred at that party since it was such a long time ago and I was drunk as hell. Scotty and Marcy were both there because we decided we wanted to show up uninvited. We thought it would be a bigger deal than it actually was, because no one cared if we had invites or not.

It was before Scotty came out to us, and I remembered that him and Marcy were being oddly secretive that night. It didn't bother me at the time, because I hadn't realized my feelings for Scotty yet. I wanted to believe that Marcy was making this up to make herself more important than she actually was, but it was very possible that she could have hooked up with Scotty that night.

"Hooked up, how?" I found myself asking.

Marcy pulled her lips into a full-on grin as she wiggled her perfectly groomed eyebrows at me. "There's only one kind of hookup, Liam." She nudged me playfully, but it made me feel like punching her.

If what she was saying was true, why hadn't Scotty ever told me? Gay or not, hooking up with our best friend should have been something we were all aware of.

As though she read my mind, she said, "He didn't want to tell you, because he thought you'd get jealous."

"Jealous?" I questioned with a exasperated laugh. "Of who?"

Marcy began to play with her fingers again. "I was the only girl in a group of friends. I know how those things go, Liam."

"So, because you're a girl and because you have boobs and a vagina, every boy is supposed to have a crush on you?"

"No, I'm not saying that."

I held up my hand to silence her. "You're annoying me. Can you leave?"

Silence washed over us and when I glanced back at her, Marcy's eyes started to glisten from the tears threatening to fall. She wasn't going to cry because she hated being vulnerable and weak. In fact, the only time I saw her cry was when Scotty died, but it only lasted a day or two. But in this moment, I started to believe she was actually going to break down in sobs. She eventually left, though, knowing how easy it was to piss me off. It was the smartest decision she made all day.

When I was left alone in the small confinements of my room, I found myself growing more angry than I was when in Marcy's presence. This time, my anger was directed toward Scotty. Even if we weren't together when he had sex with Marcy, he should have told me - as a boyfriend and a best friend. Just the thought of him sticking his parts into Marcy's parts made me sick to my stomach.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the doorway to see my mother standing in the narrow opening. "Hey, honey," she greeted with a smile.

I mentally rolled my eyes and fell backward onto the bed again.

Ignoring my body language cues, she waltzed into the room and took a seat at the edge of my bed. "I want to talk about your therapy sessions."

I sat up straight instantly, scared that Dr. Reis told her about my confession. "What about them?"

I had expected her to reprimand me for being gay and go on and on about how it was a sin or something, but she didn't. She simply smiled. "Dr. Reis told me you're starting to make progress," she informed me. "I'm so glad you're starting to move on."

I stared at her. There was a sudden uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Move on?"

She pushed a stray strand of short, blonde hair behind her ear, only to have it fall back over again. "Yeah," she beamed, "I know Scotty was your friend and everything, but he sorta did this to himself."

I didn't like where this conversation was heading. "What are you talking about?"

"He was a homosexual, Liam. He paid for his sins."

It didn't even bother me that she was being a close-minded, over-religious bigot, because I expected that much. What bothered me was that she could look into my eyes and say those words with a smile on her face.

When I didn't respond, she changed the subject. "Marcy is a nice girl, isn't she?"

I shrugged my shoulders carelessly.

"She's always around when you need her and she's pretty."

I tried to resist the urge to sigh, but I failed miserably. "I don't like her like that," I blurted out. I wasn't even sure I liked her at all, let alone romantically. Even if I was straight, Marcy would be the last girl I went for.

"Well, why not?" She asked with an eyebrow raised in inquiry. "She's the only one from school who genuinely wants to see you get better."

If I wasn't frowning before, then I certainly was now. "Why do you say it like I have some kind of disease?"

My mother's cobalt eyes grew cold and unfriendly. "You have a mental disorder, Liam."

"It's not a disorder!" I barked back at her. "Why can't you just accept the fact that this is who I am?"

"Because this isn't who you are!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "I love you, Liam. God knows how much I love you, but I had to quit my job because of you."

"I didn't ask you to," I muttered.

"No, you didn't," she said, letting her voice return back to normal, "but we were so worried about you doing something stupid if you were left alone in the house. I did this for you. The therapy sessions are for you. The medication is for you. All of this is for you to get better."

Get better, as if I wasn't good enough as is. Nothing good ever came out of talking to my mother, which was why I tried to avoid it all costs. "Stop saying that. This is who I am. Taking medication, going to a therapist, driving a brand new car and dating Marcy isn't going to change that. You can try to sugar coat it and neutralize it all you want. I'm still going to be this way. Stop trying to make me "get better" and get out of my fucking room!"

She blinked at me in awe. I had never yelled at my mom before, because I never bothered to say more than two words to her.

"Liam."

I pointed to the door. "Out."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Dinner is ready when you want it," she notified me just as she rose to her feet and shuffled over to the door until she was completely out of sight.

I should've felt horrible for yelling at my mother, but I didn't. In fact, it actually felt like a comforting release like I had been bottling my anger inside for a really long time.

I didn't know why, but I started to think about what would happen if my parents knew about my sexuality? Would they justify my death with "he paid for his sins", like they did with Scotty? It was pointless trying to think of those possibilities, because I never planned on telling them. If I did, they would blame Scotty. He already took a lot of shit when he was alive and I didn't want him to go through any more difficulties in death.

I sat against the wall and hugged my knees to my chest. I let my head tip back until it rested on the concrete, taking deep breaths in the process. My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket, but I ignored it because it was probably just Marcy sending an apology text and asking if we were still on for prom. I had no idea why I agreed in the first place since I knew I was going to cancel on her at the last minute like I always did.

A slight knock on my bedroom window broke me out of the current thoughts plaguing my mind. Piquing my interest, I slowly stood to my feet and walked over to the window. I peered out of the glass and gasped when I saw Max standing on the other side.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I unlocked the latches on the window and pushed it open.

"I didn't know if ringing the doorbell was appropriate or not and I didn't want to wait for you to answer your text messages, because I was afraid I'd get kidnapped or something. Thank god you don't have any curtains so I could confirm this was your - wait. Why don't you have curtains? Have you ever heard of a peeping tom?"

He talked so fast that his sentences sounded like one long word, but I couldn't help but smile regardless. "Thank you for coming." I extended a hand for him to grab and helped him climb through the window.

Max let out a relieved sigh as he walked further into my room. "Yeah, your text sounded serious from the lack of emojis."

"Did you have any troubles getting here?"

He shook his head. "Trey gave me a ride."

I watched as he became interested with the pile of unopened video games next to my bed. I kept balling my hands into fists and opening them again, struggling to find the right words to say. Talking to Max was easy because he never shut up, and I liked that, but I needed to be more talkative if I wanted to improve my interpersonal skills.

"How was your day?" I asked him.

He picked up one of the video game cases and inspected it. "It was okay. I had another session with Dr. Reis today. He's cool."

I nodded as I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

"You know you never told me why you have to see him." He placed the video game back in its stack and returned his full attention to me with a raised brow.

I dug my hands into the pockets of my jeans and looked away from him, growing silent. It wasn't like I didn't want to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything, but I was afraid of what his reaction would be. I didn't want to scare away the one person who made life bearable.

Max raised his hands in surrender. "Don't mind me, I'm just being nosy. You don't have to tell me." He broke eye contact again when he caught sight of an old sketch book on top of my dresser table. "You draw?"

I shook my head as I plopped down on the bed. "No. My parents just buy me a bunch of things that they think will make me more productive."

Max began to flip through the sketchbook, carefully examining all the silly things I drew. He flipped to an empty page and sat down next to me on the bed. "Here, I'll draw you. You got a pencil?"

I quickly scrambled off the bed and grabbed the first pencil I could find, handing it to him when I returned to the bed. He muttered a quick thank you before starting to make faint lines on the paper. I tried to get a closer look at what he was doing, but he grabbed onto my chin and adjusted the position of my head. "Don't move," he told me.

Obeying his instructions, I tried to remain as still as possible. We sat in tangible silence for a few minutes, before I decided to strike up a conversation. "Tell me about Jamie."

He glanced up at me, his chocolate colored eyes twinkling with confusion. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Jamie," he said hesitantly, as though he was trying to remember who he was. "Jamie is a first class asshole."

I furrowed my brows. "But you like him, don't you?"

Max began to laugh to himself. "In case you haven't noticed by how many times I had to revirginize myself, I tend to be attracted to assholes." He paused and looked up at me. "But not you. You're not an asshole."

I smiled. "Jamie was your first?"

"First everything," he clarified. "Now that I look back on it, I was so stupid for letting him use me like that. I was too blinded by love to see it."

"I'm sorry."

He stopped drawing and looked up at me. "You don't have to be sorry. It's not your problem."

"I know, I just-" I gave an inward sigh, "-it sounded like the right thing to say."

A small smile curved his mouth, and it made me feel all weird in my stomach. "Tell me about your ex."

My breath hitched in my throat, becoming frozen in my lungs, and my heart started to hammer painfully. I hated being so short with Max, but it took me seven months to open up to Dr. Reis - someone I was supposed to trust. I wasn't ready to tell Max, even if I thought I could trust him.

"He, um, you remind me of him sometimes." Max glanced at me with interest, hinting for me to continue. "Well, you both are so happy about everything and strive to make others happy too."

"That's the only way to be," he joked as he gazed down at the sketchbook again. "So if your ex is so great, why'd you guys break up?"

I fiddled with my fingers. "We didn't really break up. He just kinda, uh, h-he ... He just..." I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and I knew I was only seconds way from bawling my eyes out.

Max's expression turned into something strange, and he looked kind of worried. His dark eyebrows furrowed, his lips parted slightly. "You okay?" he asked, and that was when I knew I couldn't tell him. I had enough pity to last a lifetime and I didn't need his.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He studied me for a brief moment, but he didn't comment on my near-breakdown. Instead, he flipped the sketchbook around to show me the finished product. "I'll need more time to make it perfect, but this is just an outline."

I couldn't understand how he was able to do it, but somehow, all the faint lines and circles were able to come together to form an outline of a face - my face. "You're really good," I said to him, and I meant it.

His cheeks flushed with color as he looked away. "Thanks."

I decided then that Max was perfect.

Not in the traditional sense. Not in the your-hair-always-looks-good-and-you-never-have-any-problems-in-life kind of way, because I knew that he had plenty of problems. He was too young to be dealing with what he had to deal with, and as was I.

No, Max was perfect in the I-know-your-past-but-I-don't-care kind of way. I hated that he had gone through so much heartbreak in order to find the love of his life. I hated that Jamie didn't care enough to appreciate all of Max's great qualities. I hated that he was misunderstood.

But I loved that Max, through all his ups and down, was still able to make me smile. I loved how he was okay with telling me his whole life story. I loved how he knew when to stop trying to make me "get better", even though he had no clue of my condition. I loved that crazy feeling I got in my stomach every time he was near.

Max's dark eyes met mine, shining with curiosity. "Is there a reason why you're staring at me like that?"

"Yes," I replied and as soon as I did, I caressed his face in my hands and kissed him.

A bolt of electricity shot through my body and I swore Max felt it too, because he jumped at the contact. His arms unknowingly wrapped around my neck as I found myself snaking my arms around his waist, drawing him a little closer. He fell back into the bed with me on top of him, and I could sense him smiling through the kiss. I wanted to smile too, but my mind was too wrapped up in his breathing, his lips, his body.

I knew there was something different about Max when I realized I wouldn't be all that bothered if my parents burst into the room at that very instant. I wasn't thinking of anyone but us, not even Scotty.

Something about Max felt safe and secure and I'd be damned if I let such a beautiful thing slip away.

**

A/N: This chapter was way longer than I thought it would be, but I guess that's a good thing, right. It's always a challenge to write in Liam's POV because of how much of a complex character he is. I get frustrated every time I write for him, but then I guess writers should take challenges ... So I'll suck it up and cry later.

What do you guys think of that Scotty & Marcy revelation?

If you just so happened to like this chapter, then I'll smile when you vote and comment. Thanks.

Until next time,
Lara <3