-Theo-

The next couple of weeks followed pretty much the same pattern: at home I was the cleaning lady and the cook, and at school I was Deon's lackey. He didn't go out to drink even once during those two weeks – probably because his hangover had been so severe that he couldn't even get up from the bed before five in the afternoon – so I saw him only at school.

It was a good thing. He had turned into one hell of a rollercoaster with his mood swings. I had a really hard time guessing his moods. Sometimes he was nice, and sometimes he turned into a bitchy drama queen, and I believed it was only getting worse. I learned not to get too upset about his behavior, since he would eventually calm down and treat me like a friend again, but it sure was getting weird. If he didn't want us to be friends, then why did he bother? I just couldn't understand.

I wanted to know, but at the same time I couldn't care less. I didn't get beaten up or bullied anymore, and since he had told me to not ask any questions, I kept my end of the deal and stopped trying to understand him.

Another reason why I didn't pay too much attention to his hissy fits was Beau.

I met him again after the day of our first "date", and we had a long talk about everything. Beau told me he had started growing feelings for Allen soon after we started high school. He had confessed his feelings to Allen almost a year before I had confessed to him, but instead of returning his feelings, my brother had crushed Beau, just like Beau had crushed me. He said that it had taken him almost a year to recover from what Allen had said. He was grateful that I had been there for him during that awful time. He told me I had helped him to heal and learn to love his life again.

Then he told me something beautiful and devastating; he had started to grow feelings towards me as well. I couldn't have been happier to hear that, but it was also the saddest thing I had ever heard. Because of my brother, Beau had learned to think that being gay was wrong and disgusting, so when I told him I loved him, he reacted like everyone expected him to react: calling me a disgusting fag, just like Allen had once called him.

He also said he knew there wasn't anything he could do to change what happened, no matter how hard he wished for it. He knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven.

Yet, I forgave him. What else could I have done? He was a victim of hatred, just like I had been. I knew exactly what he had gone through, so all that was left was to start all over, rebuild our friendship, and start something even better together.

*****

"Beau, wait..." I gasped, lying on my back in his bed.

Beau was kissing my neck heatedly, his hands finding their way under the waist of my jeans, our legs tangled together. We had been making out for quite some time already and I knew Beau was getting fired up. I could literally feel it.

"I don't want to wait any longer..." he muttered against my skin. "I have waited for too long already," he continued, moving his lips back on mine.

I almost drowned in his heat, but somehow I managed to get back to my senses.

"I think we should wait," I said firmly.

He'd had his girlfriends, but I was inexperienced in that department. I didn't want to rush into anything, especially with a guy who had called me names and left me all alone for four months. I had already forgiven him, but I couldn't forget just as easily. Besides, I was sure that two weeks wasn't long enough to be sure I was truly ready to have sex.

After all, it was my first time we were talking about.

"I have to get going," I said, pushing Beau gently off me.

It was Friday, and it was getting late. Deon had decided to go out again, so he needed a place to stay. I would've loved to spend the night with Beau, since his family was visiting their friends and no one was home, but a deal was a deal. I had grown too attached to my non-bruised body to break the deal.

"Please stay," Beau said and grabbed my hand. "I don't want you to leave."

"I told you Deon is coming over," I said and freed myself from his grip. "We can hang out tomorrow if you want."

"Of course I want to," he said. "But please, don't go."

"I'm sorry, I promised him already," I told him and kissed him shortly.

"Why do you let him rule everything you do?" Beau asked with an annoyed tone. "He's acting like he owns you."

"That's ridiculous," I said. "I'm sick and tired of getting hurt, and as long as he's willing to help me, I'm going to help him. That's what friends do."

"That's not friendship! He's blackmailing you!" Beau growled. "You told me what he said! He doesn't want to be your friend! Besides, he's bad news, he's always breaking the rules and getting into fights. He will drag you down with him if you hang out with him!"

"You don't know him like I do," I said firmly – I wasn't in a mood to start fighting with him.

"And how on earth could you possibly know him better than anyone else?" Beau asked in frustration. "You've been hanging out with him for only a few weeks!"

"Look, I know you're worried, but everything is fine. I trust him," I said, getting out of his bed.

"I know you've been lonely, but you're being ridiculous! You think you two are friends, but I can tell he's just using you!" Beau almost shouted.

I was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"I know I'm ridiculous," I said quietly after a moment. "I know I'm stupid, but he's the only one who tries to help me. Whatever his reason is, he is protecting me. All I care about is that I'm not getting hurt, and it's all because of him. Not because of you."

Beau didn't say a word to me after that. He just sat there with an angry look on his face. I knew it was a crappy thing to say to him, but his words had hurt me. I knew what I was – I had a notebook to remind me of that – but it was painful to hear him say those same words to me.

"I have to go," I said, turned my back on him and exited his room.

While I was walking towards my home, I had time to think. Beau didn't want us to be seen together, and I kind of understood it. He'd been mentally crushed by Allen, and his parents couldn't be more homophobic, so I understood why he wanted to keep this thing between us as a secret. It hurt, but I understood. It wasn't easy to be gay in our city.

I rolled up the sleeve of my left arm. It had been weeks since the last time I cut Beau's name on my skin, and the wounds were already healed. I'd cut myself so I would never forget him. Now I didn't need to cut the lines anymore, since I got him back. All the good feelings he used to give me were back. The butterflies, the sparks, every happy shiver in my soul... I didn't need to cut to remember them.

But the scars also reminded me of something else. They were there to remind me of that horrible feeling I'd had when Beau called me a disgusting fag. I would never forget those words he spoke to me – not as long as I had the scars.

I had believed that if Beau apologized and was willing to take me back, I would fall at his feet in happiness. I nearly had done that, but the scars wouldn't let me. I was more than happy to give him another chance, and I could keep us as a secret, but I couldn't just forget everything. I wanted to be careful this time.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard my phone buzzing in my pocket. I took it and saw a new text from Deon. He was asking if I was home already. I told him I was still ten minutes away, and in his next message he asked me to meet him at the park near my home.

I hurried my steps and took a shortcut to the park. Once I got there, I saw Deon sitting on the ground under one of the old oaks just outside the empty playground.

"Did you have fun with your boyfriend?" Deon asked when I sat down next to him.

I'd told him about Beau and I, and his reaction had been, as always: "The fuck I care?"

"I did. Did you have a fun night? It's not even midnight yet..." I asked, trying to keep the conversation away from Beau – Deon wouldn't even care if I told him about our argument.

"It was quiet. There weren't any girls to steal away from their boyfriends," Deon said with a wink.

"You're so bad," I giggled – it felt really good to be able to laugh again. Deon looked at me with a small smirk on his lips. "What?" I asked.

He shrugged before answering, "I like you better when it's just the two of us. You should smile more often."

"I'm trying to," I told him. "There hasn't been much to smile about in my life."

"Yeah. That's too bad. You deserve to be happy," Deon said and lay down on his back on the ground.

"What's going on?" I chuckled suspiciously. "You are awfully flirty today."

"You know I get weird when I'm tipsy," Deon laughed. "I'm not flirting; I'm just stating a fact. Sweet kid like you should be happy and loved, not bullied and hated."

"Okay..." I chuckled at his words and decided to push my luck once more. "How come you don't want to be friends with me. I mean, we are friends, but why won't you admit that?" I asked for the thousandth time.

"Trust me, you don't want to be friends with me," Deon said.

"Why not?"

He laughed again, and this time it had a sad ring to it. "I'm a bad influence. Bad news. Bad company. The kind of guy everyone tells you to stay away from."

"I've met people worse than you," I spoke from my heart.

"Yeah..."

"Then why is that?" I asked. I wasn't going to waste the chance to know the answer. "I think you have a secret."

"And what would that be?" Deon chuckled.

"I don't know. Would you tell me if I asked?"

"Nope. I'll take that to my grave," he said.

"So you do have a secret," I said triumphantly.

Deon laughed again. "Sneaky bitch."

"I'll find out what it is," I told him. "Sooner or later, I will find out."

Deon patted my back gently. "You can try, but I won't tell you, bitch."

"Jerk," I laughed and pushed his hand away playfully.

He chuckled as well and put his arms behind his head. "You really should laugh more," he muttered cheerily, closing his eyes.

"Hey, don't fall asleep now!" I giggled, but it was too late – I heard faint snoring next to me, and I shook my head with a smile on my face.

I really had started to like my life again. I leaned against the tree and turned my gaze up to the night sky. The air was chilly, but I felt warm inside. The stars above us were twinkling down at us, and the park was silent.

I felt content, even though the small quarrel between me and Beau felt heavy in my chest. It wasn't the first time we had fought because of my friendship with Deon, and I knew it wouldn't be the last time either. I had the feeling Beau was jealous. If he was, he needed to accept the fact that I needed Deon, and not just because he was protecting me. I needed a friend. As long as Beau wanted to keep our relationship as a secret, I couldn't be with him as much as I wanted, so I needed a friend to spend my time with.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just admit we're friends," I told Deon, who was still fast asleep.

Then I sighed and poked him in the arm, trying to wake him up.

It took me a quite some time to get him awake and up on his feet. I somehow managed to drag his heavy ass to my home. Allen was in the kitchen when we stepped in, and he stared at us with an angry expression on his face. I didn't say anything to him, and neither did Deon. They both glared at each other for a short moment before Allen turned to look away. Deon looked pleased about himself when we climbed up to my room in silence.

Deon was pretty tired, so as soon as his head touched the pillow, he was fast asleep. I wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, so I stepped over him and made my way to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, enjoying the fact that the falling water didn't hurt my skin, like it had when I was still covered in bruises.

When I stepped out, I glanced at myself in the mirror before wrapping a towel around my hips. I still wasn't used to seeing myself without any injuries. I was always almost surprised to see that I didn't have any bruises left. My skin looked weird without the shades of black, blue and yellow. There was no pain, and I looked almost healthy. Almost, because the lack of food had left me skinny, but I was working on that. I was eating more, and I could see in the mirror that I had gained some weight.

I gave myself a small smile. It was odd to see myself smiling again.

It was odd to be happy again.