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It was easier for them to ignore the problem than confront it because bullying was one of those things that, if it wasn’t addressed—fully and frequently—it got worse.
A weird feeling overtook me then. Something I couldn’t identify exactly, but it was enough for me to want to stand.
But at even the thought of him kissing me again, I felt that funny feeling in my stomach return along with a fresh blush creeping up in my cheeks.
Why did I sort of want him to kiss me again?
“Tell me you felt nothing, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You’re in denial, Elliot, and I’m going to help fix that,”
“So, how long have you been gay?” “Andrew,” Jordan said with a glare, scolding him before taking another bite. I coughed awkwardly, glancing down at the bare skin of my wrist as if it were a watch. I tapped it lightly with my finger. “About ten minutes, actually.”
How had I ignored the butterflies before? They were so painfully obvious.
My dad swore under his breath then and I felt my stomach sink. He suddenly got up out of his recliner and left the room. I was starting to panic, but was confused when he returned shortly after that with his wallet in his hands. He unfolded it, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and handed it to my smug-looking mother.
