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Note to parents everywhere: don’t judge your kid based on what you like.
Besides, I don’t consider myself queer. Not really. More … whatever floats my boat if you get what I’m saying. Whoever gets the sails going. Whoever pops my … tent.”
I’m slumped over my desk, my head in my hand as I read over the same paragraph ten times because it’s still not sinking in.
Maybe being in a library will help me feel smarter, therefore I will think smarter.
Kole’s head pops up from a table near the door as I enter, and … whoa. Kole’s wearing glasses. Black, square ones that frame his eyes, and all my blood flows south. If you’d asked me two seconds ago if I had a nerd kink, the answer would have been hell no, because someone like Foster’s boyfriend, Zach, would have come to mind. But this … tall, chiseled features, and glasses? I’ve found my new weakness.
I don’t understand why they had to die. Instead of making me sad, it makes me want to go to Heaven, if that place even exists, and punch God in the face. They didn’t deserve it, and the kids sure as fuck don’t deserve me and West to be their guardians.
“This better work. Because if they kill each other, your dad will kill me, and then my boyfriend will dig me up and kill me again for leaving him.”
“What if I promise not to fall in love with you? Then will you let me suck your dick?”
“You can go out with whoever you want.” As long as their name starts with A and ends in sher.
“Kole …” He cards his fingers through my hair and tugs me up to look at him. A weighted silence passes between us before he whispers one word. “Mine …” I nod. “I’m yours.”
“Still, you’re way too young for this kind of responsibility. Even teen parents aren’t thrust into raising five kids at once.” “Unless somehow they get pregnant with quintuplets.”
