Don't Let the Forest In

by C.G. Drews

The teacher stormed toward them. Thomas casually tossed his stick into the trees and didn’t look concerned. “He won’t touch you again,” he said. Andrew could hardly breathe. “You’ll be in trouble.” The light in Thomas’s eyes was bold and ferocious. “But he won’t touch you again.”

Not really surprising the boy fell in love.

It was strange, Andrew thought, how when something moved in the dark, everyone’s first instinct was to go inside and hide under the covers. As if monsters couldn’t open doors and crawl into bed with you.

Well, dang.

“I like how you are. There’s an entire world of ink and magic stuffed inside your head, and I think it’s beautiful. I just wish everything didn’t hurt you so much.”

It burrowed between his ribs, the frustration of it. Everyone saw Andrew as shattered and fragile, and maybe he was to them. But when Thomas looked at Andrew’s sharp edges, he thought them dangerous and beautiful—not weak.

“I think,” Andrew whispered, “it sucks to be ace.” “I think,” Lana said, “the world sucks for making you feel that way.”

Yes, Lana, tell it like it is.

Ahead of him, Lana was arguing that pumpkin cake was better than pumpkin pie, and Chloe wasn’t having it.

I am firmly on Lana's side.