May 2, 1/4

My family goes to church every Sunday. This should be obvious. I don’t see many of my classmates at church, however, as my church is a little out of the way. It’s the same one my mother went to when she was a kid, so it’s not in the wealthier neighborhood. Technically, it’s not even Catholic. The denomination is always left kind of vague. There are things like statues of Jesus and a priest’s outfit, but the doctrine isn’t quite the same. There is rarely a mention of protestantism or catholicism, and never a mention of the Pope. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t really care all that much. But this church is about halfway between my house and Thomas’s. I only mention this because I saw Thomas and his sister Eliza at church today.

Thomas and Eliza arrived together, but without their father. They sat in the back, late, as we began the hymn portion of the service. Eliza was silently crying, and Thomas was comforting her. I could still see the bruising from prom. I wanted to go over to them immediately, but was held in place by convention. After the service, my mother and I approached them immediately. My mother fretted over the two of them, asking them where their parents were. Thomas didn’t tell her when prompted, maybe out of embarrassment or shame, but Eliza eventually said that her “dad got mad at Thomas” and dropped them off at the church before driving away. Thomas looked uncomfortable enough to confirm it as the truth. My mother smiled at the two despite the concerned furrow in her brow before offering to take them home. Thomas opened his mouth to reply, but Eliza burst into frightened tears. I think my mother understood at once. She then offered to take them home with us. Eliza seemed a little reluctant, we are strangers to her after all, but Thomas accepted with relief.

When we got to the car, I was burning with questions. Why did Thomas’s father get mad? Why leave them at a church? Why at my church? But I couldn’t ask him in front of Eliza. I didn’t want to upset her. Eventually we arrived at my house. I went upstairs to clean my room (I’ve been disorganized ever since prom) and Thomas eventually met me up there. I was almost done cleaning at that point, and Thomas played with the loose yarn of his sweater. I asked him what he wanted to talk about. He then told me why his father was so angry at him. He had told his father that he wanted to go to a catholic church, and his father drunkenly said that he wouldn’t take Thomas to any kind of church, the people there are “too judgmental”. I think the man’s afraid of people learning what he does to his son. Thomas insisted, and the man exploded, packing his terrified children into a car and abandoning them at the church. I thanked him for telling me, my hands shaking. He asked if I was alright, but before I could respond, Eliza came in through the open door.

I hadn’t spoken to Eliza for more than a few pleasantries in the car and at church, but she seemed very comfortable around me. Children don’t usually like me. She began flipping through my books, completely ignoring us. It was… charming. I asked her if she was looking for something as Thomas tried to convince her to respect my privacy, and she told me she was looking for something to read. I smiled and handed her some book I had liked in third grade. Her eyes widened when she saw the small text and many pages, and she thanked me sincerely.

My father was going to return home before dinner, and both my mother and I didn’t really want to expose Eliza to his… moods. My mother drove them to their aunt’s house at Thomas’s hesitant request. I’m glad they’re not spending the night with that piece of shit. She returned in time to get dinner ready, and my father kept his grumbling mostly to himself.

I wish I could do something more… concrete about Thomas and Eliza’s father. Being forced to stand by as the man takes out his misery on his children is torture. But with the way things currently are, I don’t have much of a choice - I can’t take Thomas and Eliza in myself without angering my father, I can’t report their father to CPS without risking their safety further, and I can’t arrange for their aunt to take them in without some serious leverage. I’ll have to think about it.

My injuries are healed now, like they were never there. My father barely noticed my absence from the dinner table. He seemed to be glad of the break from my presence.

Joshua

May 3, 1/4

I asked Natalie on that date today. I asked her if she’d like to go to Nick’s Italian on friday. She gave a very enthusiastic yes and joked that she thought I would never ask. I apologized for making it seem that way and she ruffled my hair. That was… a surprisingly affectionate gesture. I was not expecting that.

I couldn’t decide what to get Thomas, so I went to one of the bookstores downtown, the better one. Golden Press always has whatever someone’s looking for, though their children’s section sometimes seems like an afterthought for the owner judging by the size. I found two books on mythology I thought Thomas would find interesting - one on Chinese mythology, which I think even for him is a gap in his knowledge, and another on Slavic myth. Both should provide information that he hasn’t yet learned. I also found a fantasy book and a science fiction book that seemed interesting to him. I wasn’t really sure about his opinion on romances, so I choose those two books specifically because they lacked that in the short read I gave them. The Wheel of Time series is rather long, meaning I can buy more books for him if he enjoys it, and Dune is very popular with a lot of religious commentary, which I think he will enjoy. I don’t read fiction anymore, so I’m not sure what constitutes a good story, but these seem like safe picks. I also picked up some nice gel pens and a small journal in case he has any interest in that sort of thing.

It took a good bit of cash, but I have plenty of that to go around. I still have enough for Natalie, so I should be fine. I can’t wait for Thomas’s birthday.

Joshua

May 5, 1/4

My mother invited me to help her cook tonight. She was making beef wellington with mashed potatoes and peas. It had been a while since she invited me into the kitchen, and I’ll admit that I was touched. My father wasn’t home yet, so it’s not like I was in danger of being caught. She had me peeling and chopping the potatoes. It was a fairly relaxing, mindless task that I could handle despite my rustiness. Well, that’s what I thought, at least. She told me multiple times that I needed to be careful with the knife, warned me that I wasn’t being careful enough with the placement of my fingers, but I barely adjusted my grip and didn’t pay her much mind. I cut myself.

The knife, one of those high quality Japanese ones that’s sharper than a razor, cut through the pad of my pointer finger like it was nothing. For a moment, it didn’t even hurt, and I just watched like a fucking idiot as I bled. My mother noticed before I had the time to come to my senses and took the knife out of my hand, bringing me to the sink and rinsing my hand off in the running water. That’s when it began hurting. It didn’t bother me very much, but my mother’s hands were shaking slightly as she got out the bandages. I asked her what was wrong, and she began talking about how I had just been getting injured so much lately. I reassured her that I wouldn’t make it a pattern, and she laughed.

We had to throw out the potato I was cutting and wash the cutting board, but my mother reassigned me to steaming the peas, which was a much easier task. My finger still hurts as I write this out, but it’s only a mild sting. I can get used to it, I’ve been through worse. The dinner was great, by the way. My mother’s a good cook.

Joshua

May 6, 1/4

Less than a week until Thomas’s birthday. I’m excited to share what I got for him. Maybe it’s a bit much, but I doubt his father will be giving him anything, that piece of shit likely thinks birthdays are only for children and thus it’s totally normal that he spends every one of his birthdays drunk and alone. But it’s fine. I know Thomas will appreciate it.

My date with Natalie is tomorrow. I’ve already picked out an outfit. The purple shirt and black slacks should be sufficiently eye-catching and formal while still being modest and not outshining whatever she wears. I’ll tell her tomorrow about the color choice so that she can match if she wants.

At dinner tonight, my father finally asked where I was during all those dinner absences. I told him I was in my room, and he grumbled something about me being too much of a coward to be his son and how of course I would hide in my room. My mother looked thoroughly embarrassed and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin when she thought no one was looking.

I know I’m not his son. I don’t even look like I’m his son. He has brown hair where I have black and my mother has strawberry blond, my nose is straight and long where his is short, and my eyes are a dark brown that’s practically black where his are a sickly pale green. I think he knows all of this, too. I think he resents me, thinks I’m the burden that made him marry my mother instead of some secretary. Most of all I think he resents my mother. I don’t know how they can stand to be around each other.

It’s not my problem. I didn’t ask to be made. Someone else decided that for me, and my father can just deal with it.

Joshua

May 7, 1/4

My date with Natalie went well. She wore a light purple cardigan to match with me when I picked her up, and she was practically bouncing with excitement the entire way to Nick’s. It almost made me forget how much of an asshole she had been to Thomas, how she might still be doing things to Thomas when I’m not watching him. We ended the date at her house, and the kiss was sweet.

It’s almost the end of the school year. Westpoint Catholic likes to drag things out to the last possible moment, whether it’s prayer, punishments, or the school year itself, and I’m beginning to appreciate it. I hate to think of what will happen to Thomas when he doesn’t have the excuse of education to stay out of his house. His father already seems bothered by the very idea of Thomas breathing the same air as him, much less actually living there and staying there during the day. His grades are good, I’m making sure he gets something to eat, and that’s good, but his father’s a fucking piece of work. I wish I knew how to kill the man and get away with it, or that I had the courage to kill him regardless.

My grades are fine. Thomas’s grades are fine, I asked this time. Everything should be set in place for summer vacation, if Thomas had a normal set of parents. But he doesn’t. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Joshua

May 9, 1/4

Natalie and I just got off of a call. Natalie has noticed Cleo and seems to be irritated by her very presence - Cleo’s irritating because she does her eyeliner in the girl’s bathroom and can’t even do it well with that cheap ass stick, Cleo’s frustrating because whenever there’s a test Cleo hands it in first and then throws her hands victoriously in the air, Cleo’s messy because she’s always cutting up magazines and newspapers and making zines about some sharing is caring bullshit, and why does Cleo walk around like she owns the school when she hides in the bathroom to change before gym? She thinks she’s so much holier than everyone there just because she doesn’t believe in God (I laughed at the irony here, but I managed to muffle the receiver before Natalie noticed) and just because you got your parents to pay for you to come here as a joke doesn’t mean that it’s funny to everyone else. I agreed with all of Natalie’s assessments and told her that she’s right to find Cleo annoying, and Natalie quipped that she’s shocked I’m not taking Cleo’s side like I did with Thomas.

I got angry at that. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I asked her what was wrong with defending Thomas. She replied that there was nothing wrong with defending him in what I would later realize was a confused tone. If there was nothing wrong with it, then why was she bringing it up? Because it was a joke, she said, getting a little angry herself. Well it wasn’t funny, I replied, and I could hear her take a deep breath before… actually apologizing for offending me. I was still pissed, really pissed, but. Natalie doesn’t sincerely apologize, not since I’ve known her. I told her that I was sorry for getting angry and that she was right, it was just a joke.

We talked a little more after that, but it was stilted. Maybe Natalie is changing. I can’t tell, and I don’t want to call it too soon. But maybe she’s not so bad.

Joshua

May 10, 1/4

Mr. Hayashi is different from the other teachers at Westpoint. He’s observant, intelligent. He notices when students are falling behind, when they’re picking on each other, when they’re excelling. He notices when a student is nervous before a test, offering them mints and caring words. When someone is overconfident, he’ll indulge.

Right now, I’ve gotten the acute sense that he’s noticed something about me. I don’t know what it is for sure, I don’t know how deep his understanding goes, but I can tell. And it seems to be regarding Thomas. He tried to talk to me about my grades, but his eyes kept shifting between myself and Thomas, who was sitting at his desk. When I tried asking him what was wrong, he straightened and pushed on through my report card. He told me he knows I can do better - I get that from a lot of teachers - but when he said it, it felt like he actually had proof of it.

I went back to my desk, and then it was Thomas’s turn to ask me what was wrong. I told him that my grades were worse than I expected, and he offered to help me study at my house. Like an idiot, I accepted, and now we are going to have a “study-date” the same weekend as his birthday sleepover. What a waste of his time, and the whole thing is built on a lie. I hate this.

Joshua

May 11, 1/4

It’s the night before Thomas’s birthday, and I feel more excited for it than I do for my own. I’ve gotten everything wrapped and decorated, even filling out a card for him. I’ll admit that I even went back to Golden Press and got Eliza two children’s novels that I think she’d like. It’s not like my family’s short on money. I’ll give him some of the gifts tomorrow and the rest during the sleepover. I checked in with my mom and she said they were both fine with it.

I think I’ll give him the book about Slavic mythology, since it’s a shorter read. Maybe he can finish it before the sleepover. And one of the children’s books should be a good second gift - I’ll give her Matilda first, see how she handles it and then give her Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone second. I may have roped myself into buying another series of novels for the Harrowers, but it’s worth it. If they’re happy, it’s worth it.

Joshua

May 12, 1/4

I gave Thomas the gifts I mentioned yesterday. He seemed unspeakably grateful, even hugged me, and said that he couldn’t ask for a better friend. I had the strangest urge to… hurt him. Break his arm or something. I felt like a freak until he released me, and the feeling mostly subsided. Jesus fucking christ, it was terrifying. But he was practically near tears, so I had more important things to tend to.

I did this during first period, which was apparently a mistake, for Cleo deigned that this was also the time she would grace us with her presence and hand over her gift. At first it appeared to be just another zine that she placed neatly on his desk before kicking back in the chair next to him, but when Thomas opened it, he gasped like she had slipped the word of god between the pages. When I looked over to see what it was, I saw that it was a zine apparently dedicated to Thomas, with admittedly high quality photos of him from Cleo’s polaroid next to poems, quotes, and handwritten notes about him.

I looked back to Cleo to glare at her. She is not nearly close enough to him to be making this kind of display of her friendship. I have not forgotten how she left him at Prom, how her friend group is composed of conniving bastards and saboteurs. She watched Thomas read through it and excitedly exclaim any time he found something he liked in her shallow flattery, but eventually she looked over at me and raised an eyebrow before sticking out her tongue. I’ve been getting angrier lately, I don’t know what is causing it, probably just on edge because of the upcoming summer break, but I clenched my fists under the table and gave her my iciest, most threatening smile. She laughed in my face.

Thomas looked up at that and gave me a confused expression, and I toned it down. I don’t want Thomas to know how I feel about his other friends. They really are assholes, I really don’t trust them, but they’re his friends, not mine. Thomas snorted and kicked me gently under the table. Does he know? Does he know how much I dislike her?

The rest of the day was fine, though Thomas couldn’t get his nose out of the book. I mean, I half expected him to save it for another time, as Essays on Russian Folklore and Mythology isn’t exactly the most eye-catching or entertaining sounding book. I kind of like it, though. He seems to really appreciate my gift. When the school day ended, he ran up to me before he got on the bus and began talking excitedly about Perun and his roots in Greek and Norse mythology. I couldn’t stop smiling as he talked about it. I asked him if his excitement meant that he was having a good birthday, and he laughed and nodded and just seemed to glow. I love him. I can’t wait to give him the rest on Saturday.

Joshua

May 14, 1/4

I don’t know what I was thinking, going on a date with Natalie tonight, but now I have to rush to clean my room for Thomas and I’s sleepover tomorrow night.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The date was fine, I guess. We went to somewhere she picked, this time, Fionna’s Deli. She said that it was nicer on my wallet and had the best pastries in town. She was right, but at the moment I don’t really give a shit. I know I should’ve asked her out without prompting me. I know that I should’ve been more gentlemanly and sweet, that she could probably see through my charade and into the core of hatred and bitterness that I really am, but I’m not perfect despite my dad’s attempts and my mother’s insistence. I’m trying, but I’m not.

Whatever. I need to get to work before tomorrow. I’m picking Thomas up first thing in the morning and I need some sleep before we stay up the following night. Fucking hell.

Joshua

May 15, 1/4

The sleepover was fine, at first. I’ll never forget Thomas’s face as I took the rest of his presents out from under my bed, even if he tried to give them back to me. I lied and said I threw away the receipts, and he reluctantly kept it all. He seemed especially touched by the fact that I thought of getting something for his sister.

My mother made lunch and snacks for us as we played games in my room or sat in the yard, and he was smiling so wide it seemed like it hurt. He told me that this was the best birthday he had ever had.

And then my father ruined it. He came home from work angry, always angry, and immediately began shouting at my mother for not having dinner ready by the time he got home. Nevermind that he gets home at different times every night because he’s so busy kissing ass at his office, no, she had to just psychically know exactly when he is going to grace us with his divine presence. Thomas and I were in my room, and Thomas froze when he heard the shouting. My father scaring Thomas like that is unforgivable, nevermind how he makes my mother feel. Sure, I used to be afraid of my father when I was little, before I knew better, but Thomas has good reason to be afraid. I held my finger to my lips to signal to keep quiet, and I could hear my mother burst into tears downstairs as my father berated her and accused her of guilt tripping him. That made Thomas flinch, and I wondered for a moment if something similar ever happened to his own mother before she passed.

Father stormed upstairs and pounded on my door, demanding that I come out immediately. I smiled at Thomas to let him know it was okay, and then I walked to my door. Upon opening it, my father’s eyes widened comically. He had definitely forgotten Thomas was at the house. And then he began screaming at me for having someone over uninvited. We both knew Thomas was invited, we both knew he was covering his ass, but Thomas didn’t. Thomas got to his feet immediately, hands shaking as he packed his bags and promised to leave and walk home as soon as he could. I glared at my father with all the hatred that I could put into my expression, and my father visibly began to twitch with discomfort, but he was dedicated to his lie. When he ran out of breath, I told him in a calm voice that he agreed I could have Thomas over on Thursday. I could tell he wanted to hit me, but seeing as he hadn’t tried anything beyond a spanking since I was ten, he barely held back. What a fucking joke. What an absolute fucking joke of a man.

Thomas stood uncomfortably behind me as my father called me a bastard and told me he didn’t know why he had even bothered to marry my mother. I waited out his insane ramblings again before politely telling him that he had ruined our evening and that I would be driving Thomas home now. He grabbed my wrist.

It had been a long time since my father had done anything like a physical punishment to me, but so long as it wasn’t humiliating I didn’t give a shit. Thomas interrupted to say that he was going to get in the car and wouldn’t you like to come with, Joshua? I told him to wait in the car for me.

My father pulled me down the stairs, and if I wasn’t good on my feet I would have fallen down the rest of the way. He pulled me in front of my sobbing mother and proceeded to demand to know why she had raised such a disobedient faggot of a son. I pulled out of his grip and asked him why he was blaming it all on mother when clearly he was the incompetent one. The backhand was worth it.

He seemed thoroughly stunned after that, and even my mother went quiet for a moment before she began sobbing again. It gave me the opportunity to leave that I needed.

Thomas was crying in the car, but when he saw me he scrubbed his tears away and gave me a shaky smile. I asked him if this was still a good birthday, and he broke into hysterical laughter. God, but it was beautiful. I drove him around my neighborhood and then downtown, talking to him about anything. Eventually he interrupted to ask about the mark on my face, and when I tried to change the subject, he pointed out that I was bleeding. Which is unfortunate, I was wearing one of my better sweaters. I brushed it off, both the blood and the comment, and drove him home. We said goodnight and I drove back to my place.

My father was angry with me for talking back when I returned, sure, but he was more afraid of me calling the police, so that settled it. I returned to my room without incident. I’m afraid to sleep, but that’s normal for a stressful night. It’ll be fine.

Joshua

May 16, 1/4

Adam is having another party tonight. I asked him where his parents go every fucking weekend, and he told me that they have dates in Baltimore that they get a hotel room for and everything. He was sneering as he said this, as though his parent’s commitment to their relationship was something to be disgusted by. Maybe it is, maybe he sees it as abandoning him. I don’t know, and honestly, i really don’t fucking care that much. It’s just another little quirk some random meaningless family has.

When I walked down the stairs, my parents halted their conversation in the living room, going dead silent. At first I assumed that my father was irrationally angry at me again, but they said nothing to me as I put on my shoes and walked out the door. He might feel guilty, but it would be bold to assume he’s cognitively capable of the emotion.

I drove over to Natalie’s, parked where her parents wouldn’t see my car, and knocked on her window like a real romantic. When she finally opened her window, I offered to take her to a party. She was flattered, but she said that she had homework, but did I want her to come anyway just so I wouldn’t be alone? When have I ever been alone? I told her she didn’t have to do anything on my account, and that I’d be heading over there if she wanted to call Adam’s phone and check on me. She agreed that she would.

I arrived at Adam’s shortly thereafter. There wasn’t anything of interest happening. There was less alcohol than usual, which meant less people, which meant that Adam is lacking in real friends. Someone began bragging about how they had a weed hookup from the seniors, but when asked to show the goods, they genuinely said they left it at home. That was funny.

I left early. Nothing was happening, and I really couldn’t care less to show up to something where no one will see me. I wish I had gotten drunk, but that would have been a waste of time anyways. I came back home late enough that my parents had gone to bed, and I’m here in my room now. Of course I had a nightmare last night, I’m probably going to have another one tonight. How fun.

Joshua

May 17, 1/4

Thomas got on my nerves today, which is something I didn’t know he could do. As soon as I got to school, I spotted him nervously waiting at the entrance of the school. When I walked there, because where else would I enter, he started walking beside me. This was fine. I asked him if he was alright, trying to keep the implied question of ‘did my father scare you/did your father do anything?’ subtle. He nodded dismissively, before asking if I’d be willing to follow him. Of course I agreed.

He led me to a little alcove under the stairs and in the back of the building that I had never really noticed before and asked me how I was doing. I told him, completely honestly, that I was fine. I even smiled. He seemed frustrated by it, however, and insisted that I had to have some issue with what happened at the sleepover. I wanted to hiss to be quiet about that, but I didn’t, instead telling him that I was upset that my father had ruined it for Thomas, but I was personally fine. And he insisted again, no, really Joshua, are you okay?

Of course I am. I couldn’t care less what my father does to me, because my father is an incompetent moron. He can’t hurt me in any way that matters. And then Thomas pointed out that I had a bruise, right on my cheekbone. He was angry, visibly angry, that I wasn’t giving him what he wanted.

I told Thomas that he could learn to let sleeping dogs lie, truly, and that it didn’t matter if my jaw was broken, I really couldn’t give less of a shit what my father does. And then I turned and walked out. Thomas called out to me, demanding that I talk to him, and I kept walking. I don’t need to be babied. I don’t need someone worrying over my every little move. I’m not like other people, I don’t need sympathy or empathy or whatever you call it when someone pretends to feel bad for you. Even if Thomas isn’t pretending, it really couldn’t matter less what my father does or how I feel about it. It’s not important.

The rest of the day was fine, though I didn’t talk to Thomas again. I don’t need to talk to him, anyways. It’s not like we need each other to function - he clearly doesn’t need me, anyway. The only two things that changed was that Natalie was more excited to talk to me and Mr. Hayashi seemed to stare at me more. It’s fine.

Joshua

May 19, 1/4

Cleo was watching me today. I don’t know what she thinks she knows, but it’s none of her business. For once she should just fucking stay out of it.

Joshua

May 20, 1/4

Mr. Hayashi pulled me aside in class today, took me out into the hall. I hated this, it drew too much attention to me, but there wasn’t much I could do to prevent it. I asked him if my grades were alright, once we were out of view of the class, and he told me that my grades were fine if a little sub par for what I could do. I then waited for him to continue. He told me that we needed to have a serious discussion about relationships. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a read on where this was coming from, or at least where he had gotten the guts to talk to me like this. Most people know better.

He told me that abandoning Thomas and refusing to speak to him was immature, that I was acting like a child. I just glared. He continued and said that I was usually his most mature and upstanding student, and that whatever had happened between us, I should probably set it aside and choose to preserve our friendship over preserving my pride. He is fucking observant. I bristled at first, wanting to snap at him, but I haven’t lost my composure in front of a teacher since second grade and I don’t plan on breaking that pattern. He asked me what had happened between me and Thomas, and I considered my options. I could lie and say that it was related to something that hadn’t happened and risk him asking Thomas, tell him it was nothing, or tell the truth. I chose the fourth option of telling him that whatever happened didn’t really matter, and that he was right, I was just being immature. He gave me a look and told me that I should probably apologize anyway, to Thomas, for being so arrogant. Arrogant. What a funny word.

He let me back in class, and Thomas gave me a baleful look. And he was right. It is childish of me to put something as petty as myself before Thomas. Am I even really putting myself first? It’s not like saying nothing about my father benefits me, other than making me look composed. But composure is all I have. Whatever. The important thing is that I apologized to Thomas and asked if he’d consider forgiving me. He rolled his eyes and agreed, and we ate lunch together during our break.

I know, I know there’s very little that matters more than Thomas. I personally care about little else. But I don’t want to appear weak, especially to him. I’m not weak. Weak is something a person is, something a normal person feels. I’m not normal. I’m not better, I know that for certain, I know I’m not fucking better than them. I’m worse. I am a worse person than anyone I’ve ever met, including my father, including Thomas’s father. I am a monster. I’m a fucking monster and the fact that everyone around me can’t see it is terrifying. I can barely stand it. Every day I walk around in a person suit and smile and talk and walk like a human being, but I’m fucking not. I’m not a person. I pretend every day to be someone that people like, someone that can lead and charm, but it’d be more accurate to say I follow and connive. I’m hideous. I’m a fucking freak.

I almost forgot what I was talking about. Anyway, Thomas is important to me. I don’t want to drive him, of all people, away. I need to be better than this. I have to be.

Joshua

May 22, 1/4

It’s damn near 2am as I write this, but I’m not going to sleep. I can feel my dad in every corner of this room, like a fucking toxic fume seeping into the carpet. I’m not sleeping.

Natalie called me earlier tonight, asking if she could make up for the party she had missed by coming with me to another one. I agreed that it sounded fun, and told her I would pick her up. There weren’t any parties at our school, but there was an end of year party for my old school Eastshore Catholic. I thought it might be a fun idea to take her there.

When we arrived, things were in full swing. Eastshore parties always seemed a little more populated, a little more rowdy, than the ones at Westpoint, probably something to do with Eastshore’s reputation as a place to find a spouse as opposed to Westpoint’s reputation as a place to get into Harvard. People were excited to see me, and were shocked by the sight of me with Natalie. Natalie is extremely beautiful, beating out any of the plainer girls from Eastshore by a mile, so of course she caught people’s attention.

Natalie began drinking immediately, though compared to what I used to see at parties it was in moderation. She handed me a drink as well, which I took a sip from occasionally just to look like I was drinking. People kept coming up to me to chat or to reminisce about when I was still in attendance and about what my new school was like. Eventually people started asking me about what happened with Marianne, and the way they asked made it sound like they’d only just remembered that she existed. Additionally, Marianne wasn’t at the party, which was… both good and bad. On one hand, she wouldn’t bother me or Natalie, but on the other, she must have really fallen reputation-wise. I told the people who asked that Marianne and I just had a minor falling out and decided it wouldn’t work out for us, and most of them seemed to take it in stride.

Natalie began acting strangely, like she had drunk more than her body weight in alcohol, around eleven. She didn’t seem alarmed by this at first, but it was definitely unusual. When she went to take another drink, I took it out of her hand and put it back on the counter. That seemed to confuse her more than anything, and she started joking that I was a straight edge despite all the cardigans and sweater vests. I laughed and humored her, but something felt distinctly wrong about the situation. I had never seen Natalie get fully drunk, and this was even a little past that.

I noticed Kevin, the captain of the Soccer club at Eastshore, watching her closely while he pretended to be otherwise occupied. I could feel him circling us the entire night, like he was waiting for me to leave. He seemed to make any girl in his vicinity uncomfortable, which never used to be the case. Something tells me he knew that Natalie was intoxicated and was waiting for her to slip up. I don’t trust that fucker, never have, but before I thought it was just paranoia. Now I’m pretty sure that he was the one passing Natalie drinks.

I asked Natalie if she wanted to go home, and after a too-long pause she nodded. I tried to leave immediately, but Kevin stopped us at the door and insisted on trying to get us to stay and, when that didn’t work, prolonged goodbyes. Turns out he was supposed to be the host. Natalie was practically swaying on her feet by this point, so I told him point blank that if he didn’t shut up I was going to bite him. That seemed to work.

I drove Natalie home. I didn’t want to alert her parents to her state, so I helped sneak her into her room through the window. Thank god for her first floor bedroom. She drunkenly kissed me good night, and tried to make out with me, but I was definitely uncomfortable at this point and gently pushed her off me. She started to cry, I reassured her that I liked her and that she was just drunk, and then she went to bed.

I know that motherfucker Kevin did something, but I don’t know what. Maybe she did just have too much to drink, but something about that was distinctly not normal. Something about tonight is severely not normal.

Joshua

May 25, 1/4

I had a dream about Thomas last night. It was like a normal dream, with parts that didn’t make sense and muddled settings and feelings. God, but it was relieving after nearly a week of my dad appearing in them. Thomas and I were at Prom, except he had taken Natalie’s place, and he was wearing the dress instead. He was stunning, as always, with the long white opera gloves and corsage and everything. It was a strange contrast to what he actually wore. I like to think that I bought everything for him. Anyways, the night mostly went the same, except that I kissed Thomas instead of Natalie, and then Natalie, who had somehow taken up Thomas’s original part as a wallflower, turned into a giant flaming banshee. It didn’t even really scare me when that happened. It was… almost comical. The dream ended when my alarm went off for school.

Joshua

May 27, 1/4

Last Thursday of freshman year. Tomorrow is the last day of the semester, and then summer starts. Everyone seems so excited to get out of here. I am too, in a way, but I’m more concerned for Thomas than anything else. Sure, people at the school won’t have the same opportunities bullying-wise, but now his father will have uninterrupted time with the son he so despises. I feel… nauseous just thinking about it. I can’t let that man hurt his son. I can’t. There has to be something I can do about this. Even if it means working with my dad.

My father called me downstairs earlier this evening, told me that he would like me to apply for an internship at his law firm. I wanted to ask him why the hell he thought I’d do that for him, but something compelled me to stay silent. He told me that since there’s only a day left of school, I need to find something to do during the summer. It’s too low-class for me to get an actual job, we both know that, but an unpaid internship isn’t exactly ideal. Having an independent income would be very much preferred to having to rely on whatever my father takes home. It’s not like I have any skills or an education, however. I can see how this internship might benefit me, I guess. I told him I’d think about it, and he told me that I didn’t need to think about it, if I really was his son I’d have half the brains necessary to see that this was what’s best for me. After that wonderful offer, how could I say no? I did, infact, say no. And then he sent me to my room.

I don’t really want this internship. It takes time away from taking care of Thomas and seeing the other students at Westpoint. I can’t even do anything useful while I’m there, and I’ll just be a glorified office pet that fetches coffee and lunches for everyone else. There’s no reason for me to say yes, other than to please my father. And I don’t want to please him.

Joshua

May 28, 1/4

Today was the last day of school. Thomas and I spent all the time we could with each other. I think he was anxious about the summer as well. He told me a story about how he was always left out of Field Day at his elementary school like it was something to be laughed at, and I laughed, because that’s what anyone else would do. He asked me if I wanted to tell him anything about when I was a kid, and for a moment I couldn’t think of anything. But I came up with something eventually, some boring story about a hospital visit from my childhood.

I’ve never really talked about it, but I used to get sick a lot, so much so that I later found out my parents weren’t sure if I was going to survive my first few years of life. I don’t remember a lot of it, being too young to have retained a lot of it, but I do remember bits and pieces. I remember my mother reading to me a lot, and one of my favorite books was a book about a little boy with a firefighter for a father. I became obsessed with becoming a firefighter, like it was something to look forward to. I was so obsessed with it that my mother found a firefighter willing to talk to me. I looked at that man like he was a hero. He seemed equally happy to see me.

I told Thomas all of that, and Thomas was smiling at me all softly and sweetly. What I didn’t tell him is the following year’s worth of nightmares I had of the man dying horrifically. I’ve checked on the man since then, it’s not like he died in a horrific accident and I overheard it from a nurse or something, I just had visceral dreams nearly every night of him being crushed under rubble or pierced by broken piping. Probably my dad’s work, honestly. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I said goodbye to Thomas at the end of the day, hugging him tightly while we were out of sight of everyone, and that was it for the day. Then it was time to deal with Natalie.

We went on a date. It was nice, really. We went to an Asian restaurant and got noodles, which was a nice contrast to the place we went for our first date, and we had a good time. We kissed before I dropped her back off at her house, and I went back to mine feeling pretty good.

My dad told me that I had until the first of June to make my decision on whether or not I want to be his intern, and he made it sound like a threat. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’m sure I can manage whatever he does. It’s not like he can stop me.

Joshua

May 31, 1/4

I made it through ninth grade. It didn’t take any effort on my part, but I did. So that’s over. I won’t have to participate in any kind of group prayer activity outside of Sunday mornings during the summer, so that’s a nice bonus.

Natalie and I call every night, to the point that my father has been complaining that I’m hogging the landline. She talks about her day and anything that comes to mind, and I do the same. She seems to really like me. I’m always surprised by that. As much as I play the part of the perfect son and student to outsiders, the part of the perfect boyfriend to her, I’m still expecting someone to see through it. But no one does.

My father still expects me to say yes to his whole idea of me being his intern. I certainly won’t be giving him what he wants. It’s just a waiting game, I only have to bide my time until he gives up. One of us has a will strong enough to bend the other, and it isn’t my father.

I called Thomas tonight. He seemed fine, I guess, but I know it’s only a matter of time. Everything in this miserable place is only a matter of time.

Joshua