𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟼-𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢 & 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢
Parkers POV

As I walk away from Miles and toward Griffin's car, the blacktop spins. The Nike slides on my feet catch on the loose, sandy gravel, and I stumble, nearly face-planting into the glass window. I grab the passenger door handle to keep from falling over.

I can't seem to walk straight because suddenly I can't think straight: no pun intended.

There's no questioning it anymore.

I really like Miles. Like, in an unhealthy, unrealistic, life-wrecking sort of way.

Griffin eyes me as I pull open the door and throw my bag in the back. He scoffs when I nearly miss the space between the two front seats, and he quickly pushes the bag back as I collapse down in the seat, shutting the door behind me.

This sudden realization winds me. Sure, I always felt an attraction towards Miles. Our little chat tonight was the nail in the coffin.

No part of me wanted to turn away from him and end the conversation. When he dropped that flirtatious remark, I'll only scream for you, I got hard from the thought of, ahem, being with him for the fifth time this week. Hell, I would've considered it if it weren't for Griffin.

Okay, that might be the hormones talking, but still. This feeling and new knowledge scare the life out of me.

"What's wrong?" Griffin asks as he puts his car in drive. Straight to the point.

I shake my head and buckle up as the car dings a warning at me. "Nothing, I..." I hesitate, the words stuck in my throat.

There's no way I can admit my secret to Griffin, my family, peers, or anyone, without receiving backlash. Yet, a small piece of me can't help and wonder...

What if it doesn't matter?

Clearing my throat, I look out the window as we pull out of the parking lot. "It's nothing."

"You're not nervous about homecoming next weekend, are you?"

Griffin's gaze pierces me, and for a moment, one childish moment, I feel like he knows.

"Hell no." I laugh weakly. Rake a hand over my hair. Swallow. "I'm kind of looking forward to it and getting it over with. It's always such a hassle leading up to it, you know?"

Griffin snorts, his palm sliding over the steering wheel. I find myself missing Miles fidelity and the way his car moved like a seesaw. It might have brought me close to puking, but it was a good distraction.

"Trust me, I know. You only see the surface of my dad's insanity. I swear our entire kitchen table is covered with whiteboards and papers on the week of homecoming. Mom seriously brings out the TV trays that week because we all know how he is." Griffin says.

I hardly hear him. Streetlights pass by the window.

Again, Griffin takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me when I don't respond. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're going to be sick. If you're going to puke, you better do it outside my car."

Shrugging, I roll my neck and clench my hands. This feels unreal. I'm not living my own life anymore. Or am I finally stepping into it?

I'm going to regret this. I already know it.

"No. No, no. I'm not sick. I'm good. It's just..." I ramble, my tongue fumbling over the words as I try to track down one cohesive thought in my racing brain.

Griffin sighs as he stops for the red light and turns towards me, resting his elbow on the center console. "Would you spit it out already? Shit."

I inhale. It's not enough. My lungs don't expand. He's going to kill me. "Griffin, I think I'm bisexual."

Griffin goes sheet white. Blinks. "What?"

Great. Here it comes. He's going to slit my throat and dump me on the side of the road. Why is the light still red?

"Look, before you come at me, I still like girls too! It's just... God, I don't know!" I press my palms against my eyes as I babble, forcing back tears. "I've had this weird anchor in my gut for a few years, and I never knew what it was, but one day Miles showed up and was so confident and funny and related to me and was still gay, but everyone likes him still and--"

"For fucks sake, Parker!" Griffin yells and slaps the dashboard so hard that I startle, the tears drying in the face of fear. I wonder if Miles cried when his dad shot him, if he felt ashamed like this.

"You aren't him!" Griffin spits out the last word like a curse and slams on the gas when the light turns green. My nails dig into the seat as the car flies forward. "You've been spending WAY too much fucking time around that kid! Quit projecting this idiotic fantasy on your life before you ruin it!"

His shouting echoes in the car, in my ears. It makes my muscles contract, paralyzed. Even when my parents would get mad, they never yelled.

Griffin's words resonate for a moment, and I almost crack, almost admit that he's right. Maybe it's because I don't want to admit this, either.

Yet, I face Griffin and point at his seething face. "You do not get to tell me what I should and shouldn't feel! Just because you're a fucking asshole holed up in your corner of the world, thinking that everyone should be kissing your feet and bowing to your whims, doesn't mean things can't change! News flash Griffin! It's the 21st century!"

He slaps my hand away. The car jerks to the side of the road. I yank my stinging knuckles away.

"Don't you dare point your finger at me!" Griffin is practically screaming. "Stop fucking around with me!"

"I'm not!" I yell back at him and resist the urge to shove his shoulders. Instead, I inhale deeply and desperately try to gather every self-help tip my mom has ever taught me. Every inkling of Miles confidence.

Squaring my shoulders, I try again, softer this time. "I'm not lying to you. Do you know how hard it is to admit falling for someone you know you shouldn't be with? How many nights I've spent wondering why I can't get him out of my head?"

Griffin sets his jaw, his chest heaving. Miraculously, he stays silent. So, I continue. "I'm not attracted to just his looks. I've never felt this way about a guy, at least not like this. Miles is different. He's mature, has morals and a story, a--"

"Enough."

I stop, my face flaming with the truth. I might have revealed too much. Griffin needs to know that this isn't some stupid phase or hormones that need to get out of my system.

The silence is awkward and tangible. I'm almost afraid to move in case I trip the wire into another fit of screaming.

Finally, when I start to believe Griffin will forever ignore me, he leans back. He suddenly looks exhausted. "Look. I'm pissed, not surprised. Especially after you took Brea to the winter formal in freshman year, then stranded her after she tried kissing you. And you've been acting awfully weird around the girls recently. Especially Hannah."

"Okay! Okay, enough." I scoff, having heard enough. It's weird to me that he's not still trying to pick a fight. This is the same kid that verbally abuses boys in the school for wearing skinny jeans.

He knows more than what he's letting on.

Griffin clears his throat and awkwardly scratches his neck. I know better than to expect an apology, but I'm still surprised by his next words. "Does anyone else know about this...?"

"No," I admit and wring out my hands nervously. "I'm still trying to process this, so I don't want anyone else to know yet."

"Not even Miles? Are you ever going to tell him?"

Again, I shrug. "Maybe. Eventually. I don't know what to do. That's not something I could handle right now."

Griffin doesn't take his eyes off the road as he nods slowly, then throws another question at me. "What are you going to do about school? And college? Isn't football your lifeline on getting into a college?"

Exhaling slowly, I do my best to keep my composure. "I don't know. I'm hoping that being bi is so minor that they can all overlook it. If a school is going to judge me and then dismiss my academic and athletic talents simply because I prefer a specific gender, then I don't know if that's a school I want to represent, you know?"

Griffin nods again and puts on his blinker. "Well... Good for you, I guess. I'm shocked you told me first."

I choke out a dry laugh and motion at him with the same hand he slapped in a fit of rage less than three minutes ago. "And I'm shocked that you haven't murdered me yet, or pushed me into oncoming traffic. I've heard what you've said about Miles in the past, and I didn't think this conversation would go anywhere but my grave."

Griffin shrugs. "I guess I never pictured anyone in our family being... You know. It's foreign to me, except I can tell that this means something to you. That kid-- Miles—means something. I've seen more emotion out of you in the past few weeks than I've seen out of you in years."

He pauses and looks at me for a moment, a question burning in his eyes. "This isn't a game, is it?"

I hold his gaze and shake my head, feeling my throat close.

As the tears start to fall, I'm floored when Griffin looks away and reaches a hand over to ruffle my hair in a brotherly way. It's the first intentional touch we've had in years.

We spend the rest of the ride home silent.

- - -

The only reason I go to Turner's house party the following evening is that I'm getting desperate to find Miles and tell him.

I'm still on an adrenaline high after my conversation with Griffin yesterday considering how well it ended, so I've been wondering how Miles would take it all day.

Would he be happy? Surprised? Friend-zone me? Heaven forbid, kiss me?

My heart pounds as my imagination runs wild with that thought. I have to chase it out as I walk up the driveway toward Turner's house.

I must be fashionably late because it seems like everyone and their brothers are already here. The doors to the house are flung wide open, inviting in anyone who wants a good time.

My hands are sweating as I enter the doors, and the music is so loud that I momentarily forget what I came here to do. I scan the foyer area. It's hard to decipher who's-who with so many moving bodies.

I quietly curse Turner's rich lawyer parents for having such a massive house as I walk around the perimeter of the living room and dining areas, searching for a particular boy. Surprisingly, he isn't playing beer pong or joining in the party games in the living room.

As I walk towards the kitchen, I smile sheepishly at my plastered friends and say hey, even though they're too distracted and drunk to hold a real conversation. This might be a blessing in disguise because I'm too worked up to even think about having a real conversation tonight.

I slip into the kitchen and sigh when I'm finally met with peace. Everyone else is attacking the bar on the other side of the house with a vengeance or is too busy partying to worry about the ingredients that must be stashed here. Since I finally have room to think, I wonder if Miles is even here.

I don't remember seeing his car when I came in, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have carpooled or something. Or maybe he decided to stay home after all. His mom could be off work tonight. I should have Snapchatted him to double-check that he was coming instead of getting my hopes up.

A slight feeling of regret clenches in my gut as I open the fridge to grab a water bottle. I may cut my losses and leave. Take this as a sign from the universe that I need to try being straight again.

"Yo, can you grab--oh, Park?"

My blood runs cold.

The voice is slurred, but it's one that I could recognize speaking English, Spanish, Dutch, or from the other side of the moon.

I turn around, a stupid smile already on my face. He's drunk as hell. Man, now that I've come closer to terms with my preferences, he's a sight for my sore eyes.

"Hey, man," I say as casually as possible and lean on the fridge as I watch him walk over to a cabinet and open it. He retrieves a liquor bottle and pink lemonade off the counter.

"What's up?" Miles asks distractedly and starts pouring lemonade into his solo cup, only looking up when I push off the fridge and walk over to him. My heart is pounding. I feel more confident since I know how I feel.

Although, maybe tonight isn't the night to say anything if he won't even remember it.

"Not a lot. Just--god, be careful!" I laugh when he gets so distracted by watching me that he stops watching his cup, pouring lemonade all over the counter. I set down my water bottle and rush to grab paper towels.

Miles curses in Spanish and hastily lifts the juice container, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the mess he made. "Yeah, I'm trying. It's hard to pour shit when I'm not watching it." He takes his solo cup and dumps most of the contents down the sink, only to glance at me again. "What are you doing here?"

I finish wiping up his mess and toss the wet towels in the garbage before giving him a playful look. "Babysitting you, apparently," I tease, leaning against the counter by him.

Miles smirks, and I recognize that look. He's going to spew out some bullshit to make me blush.

"I don't see a problem with that. Hang around me for a while longer, and maybe I'll let you actually sit on me," Miles teases back drunkenly and returns the mischievous look before remaking his drink, without any casualties this time.

My eyebrows shoot up. But for some reason, this topic isn't making me uncomfortable. Even though he's definitely flirting, I can tell he's not coming from a dark place with it, and being around him makes me feel more confident.

That's what I tell myself when my next words are, "I bet you've been dreaming about having me on your lap."

Oh, no.

I take a small sip of water to hold down my grin as Miles chokes on his drink. He sets down his cup with a loud laugh and runs a hand back through his hair, gently biting his lip. Man, he makes that stupid move look good.

"I've been dreaming about doing a lot more exciting things with you, but I wouldn't want to scare you away so soon," Miles retaliates, refusing to stand down on this flirtation shoot-out.

My heart pounds and my mind races so fast that my temple throbs. I can't come up with anything good enough to return the shot at him, so I motion to his drink instead and ask, "How many drinks have you had? You're off the walls."

Miles furrows his eyebrow and points at the wall. "Of course I'm off the walls. The wall is way over there. What time is it? I got here around, like, nine... I've played a few rounds of beer pong, and I've had a few drinks in between. Things are a little," he motions around his head, "spinny."

I smile at his slurred words and let my gaze fall over his body. I don't know if it's the atmosphere of the party or what, but I'm craving to touch his face. Or maybe it's me coming to my senses, wanting to be near him.

Or maybe I'm fucking stupid as I push off the counter and move in front of him, reacting off the impulse as I bring a hand to his chiseled jaw, lightly running my thumb over his lip. My heart beats like a hummingbird's wings.

My gut tells me not to take advantage of his drunken state of mind, even as my heart whispers, test the waters. See if this attraction is real.

"So you're probably going to black out from alcohol poisoning? Fantastic." I laugh breathlessly as I finally come up with a response, dizzy from this proximity to him.

Miles smiles down at me, the same charming smile that made me fall in love with this fool in the first place. His current physical state makes him an open book to read, and I recognize the lust-filled look that suddenly fills his eyes.

Before I can react or say anything else, Miles grabs me by the waist and turns us around so fast that the air leaves my lungs. My blood rushes as he pins me to the counter, his hands running up my arms. He grins devilishly as he tilts his head, challenging me.

Miles voice turns silky as he whispers, "I would rather black out after doing funner activities than drinking."

Holy shit. My stomach drops at his intentions and from the fact that his words are directed at me. My mind races as I question if I should bail. I didn't plan on him hinting toward hooking up.

He's drunk. This can't be right. Anyone could walk in here right now.

On the other hand... no one has a reason to come in here. This could finally be my moment to make a move.

Test the waters.

I decide to act on my dark side as I return the smug look, putting both hands on his jaw as I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of activities are we talking about?" I egg him on, my curiosity peaking.

Miles laughs and licks his lips, shrugging as he responds. "Tell me what you want. I'll tie my hands up, go swim, push you on your knees, do something recreational like a hike or some shit, choke you in a bedroom..." He pauses, his voice hushing, "Strip you in a kitchen..."

I blink hard. My eyes drop back down to his lips, and I run my thumb over his bottom lip again as I try to process what he just said. I know that he's serious, too. I have him at my disposal tonight.

"Where do you recommend we start?" I whisper, very aware of how he's leaning closer to me. My face flushes when I realize I'm hard.

Miles grins softly and his hand trails over my neck, making my entire body sweat.

"Wherever you want to start, I'll take it at your pace," Miles mumbles and leans in so close that my stomach drops faster than a rollercoaster, thinking I'm going to get my first male kiss from my first male crush.

I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting the fireworks. Instead, he brings his mouth to my neck, dragging his lips over my skin before kissing right over my throat. I don't have any other response than to moan, and my cheeks go scarlet when I realize how that must have sounded in his ear.

Keeping my eyes shut in bliss, I run my hand into his curly hair and grab a handful of it. He must like whatever I did because his kisses go deeper down my neck, and his hips press against mine. I whine at the force and curl my fingers deeper into his hair.

Yeah, I'm certainly into boys.

Before Miles can reach my collarbone, a shrill voice cuts over the sound of the party.

"RUN! The cops are here!"

Instantly, chaos breaks loose.

Miles jumps away at the sudden burst of commotion and people screaming.

"Fuck," he mumbles as he lets me go.

I feel cold and broken away from him as we launch away from each other. Before my head can catch up to what just happened, the rational side of me speeds up.

"Sorry, we gotta take a rain check. I gotta..." Miles pauses and points over his shoulder.

I nod exasperatedly, at a loss for words. Miles reads between my lines and flees, hurrying to save his ass.

I stand here for a moment before rushing out the back door and sprinting down the lawn to where my car is waiting, avoiding the craziness of the crowd.

There is no way that I would ever compare my driving to Miles, although I do a damn good job getting out of that mess of a party. The neighborhood is a splotch in my mirror when my radio suddenly cuts off and is replaced with the phone ringing.

My stomach plummets, and I can almost feel in my bones that it's Miles calling me, demanding for me to come over and finish what we started. That thought alone makes me feel electrified again.

I can't look down at the entertainment center fast enough, and I groan seeing the caller ID. I'm not an idiot, so I answer the call.

"Don't you know the cops came? Shouldn't you be--"

Griffin, that charmer, cuts me off. "Don't you know the hook-up-only-in-the-bathroom-with-the-door-locked rule?! You're lucky that I saved your dumb ass!" He barks, making me flinch away from the speakers in my car. Quickly, I turn the volume down. His words drain my blood, suddenly taking away the appeal of what happened back there.

"Hold on. You saw that?" My voice squeaks in a very unmanly manner. I'm dead meat.

"Yes, you tramp! I came around the corner to find Doritos, and instead I saw Black Beauty's face attached to your neck. I couldn't tell who was playing with who you whore!"

Shock runs through me as I stare at the road. The surprise of his call is wearing off, and I'm plain-old embarrassed. I'm glad no one is here to see how red I must be.

"My life isn't any of your business!" I sputter as I hold my hand against the back of my neck. I ease my foot off the gas when I realize I'm speeding.

"No, you're lucky that I'm the only one who saw. I had to make sure that no one else would see before your reputation got ruined. You should be thanking me since I called the cops for a quick way out for you!"

"THANK you?!" I exclaim and laugh harshly, dragging my hand back through my hair. "Did we not talk about this last night? You need to lay off and let me decide things for myself! I know what I want!"

Griffin slowly inhales and exhales on the other side of the line. I can picture him gritting his teeth like me, his fists clenched to refrain from punching the steering wheel. "Parker. Listen to yourself. I don't give a flying fuck about who you sleep with or mess around with anymore. What I'm trying to watch out for is your life.

"Imagine this for a second: No one knows you're gay, bisexual, or wanting to fuck a goddamn leprechaun backward. They see you as this picture-perfect dude, the football team star, hanging around hot chicks all the time. Now, someone knows this information about you and then walks around that kitchen corner and sees the new gay kid dry-humping that same football star on the counter."

"We weren't--"

"Stay with me. I don't give a shit. If someone's drunk, they can see whatever they want. The point is that someone sees that, takes a video, and sends it. To everyone. Thanks to our lovely digital age, the video is widespread within minutes. Your life is wrecked because the college scouts back off, your scholarships fall through, and any employer will search your name and see the perfect white-boy-gone-rogue all because of one particularly stupid gay kid. Do you understand me now?"

My head is light as my breathing turns ragged. I would rather die than let my cousin know that he's right.

There wouldn't be an issue if I officially came out as bi. Sure, some people might be pissed, and I might lose some friends, but at least no accusations could be made. It would be common knowledge.

But if someone stumbled across Miles and me like we how were tonight...

"I understand." I squeeze my eyes shut again and rub my temple. "Are you positive that no one saw us?"

"Yeah, fairly positive." Griffin sighs. "I still can't believe this shit."

Neither can I.

"I know."

"And you're still serious?" Griffin's tone drops to something a little more serious and not so accusatory.

I nod, although he can't see me. "I am. It's not a joke, it's just really... sudden."

He snorts. "Yeah, that's one way to put it. Whatever, as long as this isn't some fucking practical joke."

"This is what you get for judging a book by its cover." I laugh a little to try and lighten the mood. Some truth is in my words. Maybe this situation will make him slow down and not be so quick to judge everyone all the time.

"Yep, this is the universe's way of waking my ass up. As much as I would love to gossip about my never-ending list of issues and your black boy toy, I need to go. I'll talk to you on Monday."

"Boy toy? Really?" I scoff, knowing that there is
no venom in those words at this point. "Fine, I'll see you later."

"Bye." With that being said, Griffin hangs up.

I release a long breath and turn the volume down as the phone disconnects, taking a moment to watch the road. All of my daydreams are swept away for the evening, and the exhilaration I felt earlier is popped like a balloon.

Griffin gave me the wake-up call I needed.

I have a lot more to consider than how Miles would act with me between the sheets.