Because You Suck: Chapter 19: Part 32

Note: Yes, the hand-scrape part was difficult for me to describe. Basically, if you lay on your elbows and get pushed hard enough in the upper-chest, there's a chance you can recoil and land on your palms (it's pulling away mid-way. Though you have to be quick and the shove has to be strong.) Casey and Carly are two characters whose actions will directly impact the coming chapter. And as for the bruises... hehe, I'm saving this secret. I hinted some of causes, but I've kept a lot of it secret for now. Thanks so much for the comments!!! They got me through finals :)

He kept his arms rigid, feeling the carpet press into palms. They were still hot, still heated as Zach told him:
“I don’t want him to get suspicious.”
“If he isn’t already, he’s a lousy boyfriend.” Gentry thought to himself, although he didn’t say it. Instead pulled himself up onto his feet and reached for his backpack, limply slinging it over his shoulder as he asked Zach, who was sluggishly pulling himself off the ground:
“What are you looking for?”
“Bracelet. You’ve seen it.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. Why’s this one so important?”
“It means something to him. He’ll notice if it’s missing.”
“Don’t you already have one?”
“This one’s different.”
“Because that faggot gave it to you?”
“—Because it’s making a statement. We’re going to the prom together— we’ll be first openly gay couple in the history of Kennedy to do that.”
Gentry was silent for a moment, then shrugged,
“I don’t care. But so you know, there can only be one prom queen.”
“I know.”
“Why do you even want to go? What’s the real reason?”
“Same reason you would.”
“To show off how you can throw money around? That you can support the school you said you were boycotting as long as they let fags drop their cash?”
“None of your damn business.” Zach snapped at him, “You’re officially ‘straight’ out of this room. And you’re taking Kylie to the prom, right?”
“Yeah. Why shouldn’t I, you’re taking Mikey.”
Zach exhaled gruffly, “You can’t compare them like that.”
“I just did.”
At this, Zach gave an exasperated sigh and realized this was going nowhere, fast. He turned away and fumble through his things, mostly for the sake of fumbling. As though he were searching for something that couldn’t de described, hazy as a childhood memory but clear as the smell of saltwater. He was annoyed, but not irritable. Just raw enough to answer him, even though the look on Gentry’s face warned him not to. He was interested all right— he’d leave if he weren’t. Zach knew that much, which was why he drawled out with satisfying slowness:
“They’re not the same, Gentry. I’m not dating him to get back at you— I’m dating him because I actually like him. If you liked me bad enough, you would have had me. But it doesn’t matter now. Telling you is a waste of breath; you do what you want no matter what I say or who you step on, and sometimes I think you like it better this way. Probably it really does it for you. You play everyone out, and I've stopped caring why. But you know, humans are pack animals. That means they trust each other enough to have these things called relationships, which they depend on for survival. But Hell! Nothing you do ever makes any sense; you do whatever the hell you want.”
“I—”
“You have your life, I have mine. If you want to be so deep in the closet that you’re tripping over Christmas presents, I won’t stop you. If I want to drag my gay ass to the prom, not your problem. You’re the last person whose opinion I’ll be crying myself to sleep over, because I don’t care about it— It’s not like you would ask me, and even if you did, I’d say no.”
Gentry opened his mother to speak, but Zach went on rambling,
“And save the faggot this faggot that, because whatever you think you are, you’re still as fruity as they come.”
The door clicked shut.