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Spencer's P.O.V.

"This is your room." Grandma said, opening the door. I walked in. Around me was a dated bedroom, more fitted for an elderly lady then for me but I couldn't complain. It was much nicer than my old room. There was a full size bed with a homemade floral quilt. On either side were two matching oak night stands. Sitting on each one, were two golden lamps with white shades. Facing the bed was a large oak dresser that had more than enough room for my weeks' worth of clothes. To top it off there  were little lace doilies. "Next weekend we will get you more stuff to make your room more appropriate." I didn't want them spending more money on me. This was only until high school ended. I could deal with the old lady room for two years.

"It's fine." I tried to reassure them. "We don't have to."

"Son, this looks like an old lady's room." Grandpa said, with a slight smile. "No boy wants that." Half a smile formed on my lips.

"Thanks." I said, again. They all just gave me a smile in return.

"We'll leave you to unpack in peace." Grandpa said, thinking that I wanted to be alone. I wasn't sure if he was right.

"Yeah, Spencer, just holler if you need something. We'll be in the store." Grandma said, unsure if she wanted to leave. I nodded, telling her it was alright. They all turned to leave and then I was alone. I sighed, falling on to the bed. It was comfortable, almost like a cloud. I didn't know if I was ever going to get up but I couldn't stay here forever as nice as it sounded though. Slowly I got up, my muscles stiffening and I crawled over to my bag. There wasn't much to unpack. All my clothes were dirty. I would have to ask Grandma if I could do laundry tonight. I laid my glove down on the dresser, smiling down at it. Baseball was everything to me. It gave me hope. Nobody could ever take that away from me. Hopefully I would be putting it to good use soon.

I put my pocket knife in the drawer of one of the night stands. I shudder as the thought of that night reared into mind. That night would go with me to the grave. Never before had I ever gotten violent with another person. I never wanted to again. It made me like my father and that wasn't an option. He was a terrible person. I couldn't be like him. That had to be the top of my list for my goals in life. It didn't matter if I had the great career or family if all I did was abuse them.

I wondered what had happened to those two since that night. Were they still out there, sleeping on the streets? Just trying to survive anyway they could. I was lucky. I only experienced that life for a short period. What if they had no family to turn to like I did? Were they going to live like that forever?

"Hey." Aunt Niccole said, scaring me out of my internal train of thoughts. I jumped back, turning towards her. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine." I said, embarrassed.

"Alright. Would you like some company?" Aunt Niccole asked, taking another step into my room.

Umm...sure." I said. "Sit down, if you'd like?" I gestured to the bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed. For a couple of minutes, there was dead silence. I had no idea what to say. What do you say in this situation? There was hardly a protocol to follow.

"You play baseball?" Aunt Niccole asked, looking at my catcher's mitt.

"Yes, ma'am. I catch." I said, proudly.

"I heard the baseball team needs a catcher this year." She commented. I smiled bigger this time but said nothing. We grew silent again. My smile faded quickly to my usual frown.

"How are you?" Aunt Niccole asked, breaking the ice again. What an odd question? We both knew the answer to that and we both know that I was going to lie.

"Alright." I lied, looking down at the bed. I didn't like looking at her when I talked. She was too much like my mom and made me feel guilty. But I could still feel her eyes staring right through my lie. I shifted, uncomfortably. I needed to get out of this before she prodded too close.

"What was my mom like?" I asked, changing the subject. Aunt Niccole noticed the abrupt change in subjects but let it slide this time.

"Lisa, your mother was the most care-free, sweetest girl in town. Nothing phased her. You couldn't rush worth nothing which was especially annoying in the mornings while waiting for the bathroom." She paused for a second, laughing at the memory. "She was smart as a whip too. Your mom got a scholarship out of state for a Chemistry program."

"What happened to that?" I interrupted. What in the world make her give up a scholarship?

"She met your dad." Aunt Niccole said, bitterly. "It was at a party during the last few months of senior year. It was like he flipped the off switch within her. She stopped going out and cut off ties with all her friends. She spent every moment with him even though he lived two towns away. In fact she spent so much time with him, her grades dropped and her scholarship went right with it. That's when the burning twinkle in her eyes left. It just died. They both disappeared after that. We only heard from her once after that. She sent us a picture of you and a letter telling us about how her and Mike got married, then had you and asking us how we were. We replied back but nothing ever came. We figured he found the letter and wouldn't let her reply back." That explained why she was never allowed to check the mail, only Dad was allowed.

"Yeah, my dad's a hard ass." I said, not thinking. My now wide eyes snapped up to Aunt Niccole, scared she would yell at me and hit me like my father. "I'm sorry ma'am. It just slipped." I apologized, trying to save myself. She started laughing, her face turning red.

"That's a lot nicer than what I would say." She said, in between laughs. Her laugh was contagious, making me laugh. After a few minutes, we slowly stopped laughing.

"I'm really sorry about what your father has done to you." Aunt Niccole said, after we stopped laughing. My lingering smile turned upside down at the mention of my father. "If we had any idea of what he was doing we would have gotten you out of there."

"I know." I said, looking back down at the bed. I hated talking about my dad, especially about his abuse. I hated it even more knowing how he turned my mom into a shell of the woman she used to be. She sensed that and didn't say anymore on it. "May I ask something else, ma'am."

"Go on ahead." Aunt Niccole encouraged. I cleared my throat.

"Why don't y'all care that I'm gay?" I asked, too ashamed to look up at her.

"Spencer, look up at me." Aunt Niccole said. I shook my head no, childishly. "Spencer." The sharpness of her words brought my head up.

"Okay, good." She smiled, warmly. "You have nothing to be ashamed about." I stood there frozen in space. I had never heard that before. Shame colored every moment of my life for as long as I could remember. "There is nothing wrong with being gay and whoever told you that lie of it being wrong, can go to hell."

"Hell is going to very full then." I remarked. Aunt Niccole smirked.

"More room for us in heaven then." I smiled. Aunt Niccole and I were going to get along real good.

Eventually we went back downstairs to the store. It was empty of people except for Billy who was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs.

"Ms. Niccole, Mr. Hartman is at the bank and Mrs. Hartman is at the store." Billy reported, seeing us come in.

"Alright, are you staying for dinner?" Aunt Niccole beamed. Please say no, I begged internally. I hated the butterflies that I got whenever I was around him. My eyes always lingered on him too long. It wasn't helping my plan to stay off boys til college.

"If y'all don't mind. My parents are both working tonight." Billy said, eagerly.

"Of course we don't. The more the merrier." She said, oblivious to my silent pleas.

"Thank you." Billy smiled.

"No problem, hon." Aunt Niccole said, kindly. They started talking about the store. Mainly about who came in today and what was sold. I sat on the counter a few feet away from Billy but my heart was pounding as if we were touching. I wanted so badly to be closer to him. I wanted to feel his heart pound through his skin as he laid on top of me. Just to feel him kiss my neck gently. No snap out of it, Spencer. Think dead kittens and puppies. There that relieved the tension. I took a deep breathe and  went back to listening to their boring conversation.

"Well, I got to go home and get some stuff done before dinner tonight." Aunt Niccole said, stepping towards the door. My stomach sank. She was seriously going to leave me with this beautiful boy. I was going to have to talk to him now. Great. We said goodbye. Now it was just us. I cursed my luck.

"How's your hand?" Billy asked. I looked up at his concerned green eyes. I wished I could stare at them forever but my mouth wouldn't work when I did.

"It's fine." I said, looking away.

"Can I see it?" He asked. He was so confident with his words unlike me. I could hardly look anyone in the eyes let alone him. I was scared they would learn all my secrets. I nodded, looking up underneath my lashes. I let him take my hand, sending tingles straight south. In my head, I groaned. Why was I being punished so? Did God not think I had been through enough?

"You haven't bled through yet so that's good. Tomorrow before church I'll change your bandages." Billy commented, studying my hand more than need be.

But I wasn't focused on that. Church. This past Sunday had been the first time in my sixteen years of living that I hadn't been to church. The first I went I was five days old. If I was throwing up they sat me in the last pew with a bucket in front of me just in case. If my dad beat me the day before and left bruises on my face, make up was thrown on and I was ordered to keep my head down all day. Most days of the off season were spent at church events. It had been my whole life. My whole life telling me that I was sinner with Hell as my final destination. My new life wanted to stay as far away from that as possible. I wasn't going to be drilled with even more shame and guilt. I didn't believe in that God. The one that said treat people equally but condemn people who are different. I couldn't handle another day listening to that. As much as I hated it, I was gay. Nothing could change that, I learned. Maybe this church was different, maybe not. I didn't want to find out but I knew Grandma was going to make me go. I just had no other church clothes which would postpone the discovery for another week at least.

"Okay." I said, not bothering to add that I didn't know if I was going to church or not. He nodded.

"So where are you from?" Billy asked. He was looking up at me form underneath his thick, black lashes, pulling at my heart.

"Umm...down south. Gulf Hills. Not too far from Latimer." I said, vaguely. I still couldn't tell what he knew. I wasn't sure if was just being friendly or if he truly didn't know.

"And you walked the whole way here?" He asked, incredibly. So he knew that much at least. He was still prying to close no matter what he knew. I didn't need him asking why I left and what not. I had to get the pressure off of me.

"Yeah for the most part" I said, casually. He didn't have to know about my illegal train ride. "Have you always lived here?" Yeah, that seemed pretty smooth.

"Yep, born and raised." Billy said, proudly.

"Cool." I said, idly. "What's it like here?" I was almost comfortable as long as the conversation wasn't on me.

"Boring. Nothing more exciting than a loose cow happens around here. Most everyone here is nice. They will all love you. No one new has moved here in years." Billy said. "What's it like where you came from?"

"It was quiet." I said, putting a slight emphasis on was. Until I rocked the boat, I thought to myself.

"Why'd you leave?" He was peering completely in now.

"I...umm..." I said, trying to figure out what I was going to do. My luck went back into my favor again as Grandma and Grandpa came in.

"Hey, Grandma and Grandpa." I said, sliding off the counter and landing with a soft thud. I saw Grandpa carrying two large, heavy-looking grocery bags. "Let me help you out." I said, taking the bags away form him.

"Thanks, son." Grandpa said, looking relieved.

"You're welcome, sir." I said, heading towards the door. I could feel Billy's stare as I walked past him. Then I heard Grandma say, "Billy get off the counter and get back to work." I chuckled to myself as I went upstairs. I went into the kitchen and set the bags on top of the off white counter top. My first impression was of a classic Grandma kitchen. On the walls were a trimming with roosters and birdhouses. On a shelf there were old mason jars with vines intertwining between the jars. Everything was neatly tucked away in its place. No stains littered the counters and stove top. I almost felt guilty setting the bags on these pristine counters. To ease the guilt and help out, I put the groceries away. Grandma came in just as I was finishing.

"Thank you, dear." She said, sweetly.

"Sure thing." I said, throwing the bags away. "Can I do my laundry?"

"Yes. The washer is right through that door and on the shelf above is the detergent." Grandma said, pulling out pots and pans.

"Thanks." I said.

"Mhm." She said, sounding muffled from searching inside through the cabinet. I left for my room. In one easy swoop I grabbed all my clothes and headed back to the laundry room. I threw all my clothes in the washer with the exception of my bloodied shirt from the day I left. I grabbed the spray bottle and started spraying. Grandma came in.

"Do you need any help? I forgot to tell you that-" She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw my shirt. "Oh my. What happened to that shirt?"

"It's from the day I left." I admitted, sheepishly. Shame seared through me and threatened to swallow me whole.

"Oh, poor baby." Grandma said, pulling me into an inescapable hug. I stood there, awkwardly, holding the damp shirt to the side. She pulled away, tears glistening in her caring eyes. "Here let me take this." She grabbed the shirt, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "It's your past. You don't need it anymore." She threw it in the trash.

"There it's gone." She said, firmly. It was strange. My past was really gone now. My father wasn't going to hurt me again. Never again would I hear his voice telling me that I was a disgrace or that I would be better off dead. I was free for the first time in my life. My throat grew tight. I couldn't breathe let alone speak. Grandma just patted her back and left. I slowly put my head down against the washer. A smile smiled down at the washer that I couldn't explain. Maybe I was happy. I didn't know. It had been a long time since I had been happy.

I picked my head up and started the washer. I went out into the kitchen to find everyone except Grandma sitting at the round kitchen table. Grandma was at stove, sending a warm wave that made my mouth water. My stomach growled in response.

"Come sit, Spencer." Aunt Niccole said, pulling out the chair between her and Billy. I looked at Billy. He gave me a small, encouraging smile. Without a word, I slipped in between them. They continued their previous conversation. It was something about what they had overheard at the store. Something about the O'Brien's daughter, Leslie. I didn't know her which resulted in the big ol' zero that represented how much I cared. Instead I stole glances of Billy. He was way too beautiful not to look. I just wanted one kiss. Too bad it just wouldn't happen. I would just content myself with these stolen peeks.

The next hour went painfully slow, waiting for dinner. I just wanted to eat and then go to bed. The thought of having a warm place to sleep made me almost giddy inside. No more park benches or ditches for this guy. Then Grandma brought me right back down off my cloud.

"Spencer, did you by any chance bring church clothes?" Grandma asked. I looked up at her, feeling everyone's stares.

"No, ma'am." I said.

"Hmm..Billy do you have any extra clothes that Spencer could borrow?" Grandma asked, finding a loop hole. Please say no, Billy.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, happy to oblige. Damn him. No way out now. Then he turned to me. "Just come over before church tomorrow and I'll change your bandage. Then you can change and we'll go to church."

"Sounds good." I lied. "Thanks." He nodded, smiling.

"Okay, good." Grandma said, clapping her hands together. "Who's ready to eat?" We all said yes. After I started eating, I began thinking about tomorrow. I didn't like being trapped into going to church. I needed to suck it up though. They took me in when they didn't have to. If they told me jump, then I would ask how high. I didn't like it but then again I didn't have to. For the rest of dinner, I mentally prepared myself for tomorrow if it took a turn for the worst.

Billy and I cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. It was agonizing how he would just brush past me. How his hands touched me as he handed me a dish. Part of me wondered if he was torturing me on purpose or was this normal? I didn't know how boys acted around other boys. Even though I was popular before my litte secret came out, I never hung out with anyone besides Casey. Maybe this was all in my head. It was probably was.

"Well, I gotta go home. I'll see you tomorrow." Billy said, after he finished putting up the plates.

"See ya." I said, giving him a small good bye wave. He nodded his head and left. I heard him say goodbye to my family. I breathed out a sharp sigh of relief and went to go switch out my laundry. Then I went back to the living room.

"Thanks, Spencer." Grandma said, as I came in.

"You're welcome." I said, sitting down. Sitting down made me realize how tired I was. My whole body was stiff and sore. Slowly my eyelids drooped and I drifted off into my nightmares. Dad cornered me into the kitchen. He was beating me to Death's threshold but then he stopped. He spared me, I thought to myself. Then I saw the glint of metallic in his cold, rough hands. I could feel the cool, sharp edge of the knife against my neck, threatening to break the skin. I woke up abruptly to someone shaking me and yelling out to me. Grandpa was shaking me and Grandma was yelling my name. I was shaking with bullets of sweat pouring down my face.

"Shh..it's alright." Grandma said. I looked around, frantically trying to get my bearings. Dad wasn't here. He couldn't hurt me anymore. I was safe. It was okay, I kept repeating to myself.

"Come on, Spencer. Go to bed." Grandpa said, gently. I nodded. I got up, ignoring the shaking in my legs. Almost zombie like I went to my room and laid down in bed. Not bothering to get under the quilt, I fell back asleep. This time I landed into a restless, dreamless sleep. There was no threat to waking up to a beating. For the first time since I was five, I was safe.

I woke up to a searing pain in my left hand. I rolled back over, relieving my hand. Blood stained my white gauze. Ugh. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The sun was shining through the lace curtains. Might as well get up. Silently I made my way out to the living room. No one was in the living room. Someone had to be up. Wait. I heard someone talking in the kitchen. I paused to listen in.

"He woke up with what sounded like a terrible nightmare. He was on the couch, shaking and shouting like he was having a fit. He kept yelling for help and 'get off of me'. Niccole it was horrible." Grandma said, sounding upset. "I can't believe Lisa didn't stop Mike from abusing the poor boy." Unable to listen any longer, I walked in the kitchen. They all looked like deer in headlights, trying to judge if I heard them talking.

"You're up?" Grandma asked, surprised.

"Yes. Morning." I said to everybody. "I'm sorry if I startled you, Grandma."

"Oh, no. It's alright. Are you hungry?" Grandma asked, lifting up two pans that smelled off eggs and bacon. I almost laughed at that question. My stomach growled almost loud enough to answer for me.

"Yes, Grandma." I said, answering for my stomach. She smiled, grabbing a stack of plates and fixed my plate.

"Here you go." She said, handing me my plate.

"Thank you." I said, taking it. I waited for everybody to get their plates and sit down before I began eating.

"How did you sleep?" Grandma asked, as I put a forkful of eggs in my mouth. After a hard swallowed, I answered, "Good."

"That's good." She smiled. That ended this morning's short interrogation. We all ate in silence.

"Niccole is going to take you to Billy's but you will go to church with him. We have to be at the nursery and Sunday school early." Grandma said, as we were finishing up.

"Yes, ma'am." I said, dreading being alone with Billy. This crush wasn't going to end well. I was gay and he was too perfect to ever love me, gay or straight. I needed to save myself the heartbreak which was never going to happen if I was around him all the time.

We gathered all the dishes in the sink. Grandma and Grandpa went and began to get ready. Aunt Niccole, already dressed, took me to Billy's house. He only lived a few streets away, an easy walk.

"Alright, here ya go. I'll see you in a little bit." Aunt Niccole said, pulling into his driveway.

"Bye." I said, getting out of her car. I looked up at Billy's two story house. He was obviously rich. Of course, he's perfect. I walked up the winding sidewalk. taking care not to step on the perfectly manicured lawn. I walked up the stone steps and rang their doorbell instead of using the golden knocker. A minute later, I was greeted by an eager looking Billy. He was wearing tight grey shirt and black boxers. This boy was trying to kill me, wasn't he?

"Hey." He said, opening the door and inviting me in.

"Hey." I said, not trying to blush. Luckily I got distracted by how nice his house was. The dark wooden floors were gleaming under the light coming through the white curtained windows. Pictures of him and his nice looking family hung on the light green walls. In the corner of the room was a coat rack with shoes resting beneath. A strong scent of pine engulfed my nostrils, relaxing me.

"Come upstairs." Billy said, heading towards the stairs. I stared at his retreating back for a moment, taking it in. I snapped out of it when he turned around and said, "You think you might want to come up sometime soon?" His teasing smile sent my legs forward. We went all the way down the light brown hallway and into his cluttered room. My eyes zeroed in on his unmade full size bed. It looked roomy and comfortable. Quit being a perv, I told myself. The last thing I needed was to get hard in front of Billy. How could I ever explain myself out of that one?

"Sorry my room is a mess. Sit on the bed. I'll go get the first aid for your hand." Billy said, starting to go towards the door.

"Okay." I said, sitting down on his bed. It didn't take him long before he came back. He sat next to me on his bed. I stared at what his hands were doing to keep my imagination at bay.

"Alright, you're all good now. My clothes are in the closet. Pick what you want." He said, popping up after he finished. I stood up and said, "Thanks, man." I went over to his closet. I picked out black dress pants and a blue buttoned down shirt. I turned around to ask Billy where the bathroom was but I stopped dead in mid-sentence. Billy was just in his boxers now. His bare chest was as tan as the rest of him. I wanted to tell him but I stopped myself. I started undressing instead. I figured he didn't mind. Then I noticed him staring at me. I felt a hot blush on my cheeks. My blood was starting to stir. I was about to ask if he liked what he was seeing but then I noticed what he was staring at. My bruises. My big, ugly bruises. I looked away quickly, blinking back the tears that found their way to my eyes. I put on the shirt and buttoned them up to hide the bruises. Then I finished getting dress. I felt so humiliated. He wasn't looking at me. I was such an idoit. I hated those bruises. I hated my dad. I hated myself. How could I think anyone would look at me after what my dad did to me, especially perfect Billy?

"Are you ready? "Billy asked from behind me.

"Yeah." I said, looking down at the perfectly fitted clothes. I turned around once I heard him take a few steps back. He was wearing black pants, a purple buttoned down shirt with a black vest. He looked amazing. It wasn't fair. We left his house and started heading to church. Billy didn't say anything until about halfway there.

"So do you wanna tell me about those bruises?" Billy asked, looking down. Damn, he couldn't even look at me.

"Nope." I said, with a small pop, raising my guard up even further. I looked away, humiliated. He didn't say anything else until we got to the church.

"Here we are." Billy said. We were standing in front of a small white church. People were crawling all over the place, trying to get in and find a good pew. A few young children were playing in the dirt and grass being chased by fuming parents.

"Let's go inside and find your grandpa." Billy said. I nodded, following him. The church was much bigger on the inside than what it looked. There had to be at least a hundred pews. They were mostly full now. Up the red carpet aisle led to where the pastor preached. Behind that were more pews and a door. The pews were probably for the choir and the doors probably led to the rest of the church.

"There he is." Billy said, pointing to one of the middle pews. We started heading over there.

"Hi, boys." Grandpa said, as we came over. He was wearing a suit and his hair was gelled back. It was weird seeing him this dressed up.

"Hey." I said, sitting down next to him. We slid down to make room for Billy.

"Hey." Billy said, sliding right next to me. My heart started to race. I was in church. Maybe I should pray for some self-control or for a bus to hit me. I would be happy either way.

About ten minutes later, Pastor Reed stared his sermon. I tried to listen but I was too afraid to hear him say the worst. I knew it wasn't right but I wasn't ready for the judgment. I should hear him out. If he said something about how disgusting being gay was, I would do what I always did block and ignore and pretend everything is alright. I listened. He talked about love the whole time. How love was the most important thing in the world and how it was our guiding light. It was the first sermon I really listened to in years. The first time I didn't fell disgusting or like a sinner in church. I fully believed in this God. When it was over I felt good, really good.

"Did you like it, Spencer?" Grandpa asked, as we were all getting up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Billy looking at me for the first time since we left his house.

"Yes sir." I said. A swarm of people engulfed us. I heard a swirl of names with not enough faces. Then I heard Grandpa explain who I was and that I was staying with them for a little while. No more explanation than that. I was thankful for that. If only someone could get me out of this sea of people.

"Hey. Are y'all ready to go home?" Aunt Niccole said, emerging from the crowd. Billy and I both nodded.

"Bye, nice to meet you." I said, to an elderly lady named Mrs. Silverman, I think.

"Bye, honey." She said, smiling. We left as quickly as possible and got into Aunt Niccole's car.

"Are you staying this afternoon?" Aunt Niccole asked Billy as she pulled out of the church parking lot. He looked up at me from the backseat and then back down.

"No ma'am." Billy said, looking down at his lap. Aunt Niccole nodded, her eyes suspicious but said nothing else. She pulled up to Billy's mini-mansion of a house.

"Bye, Billy. See you tomorrow." She said, unlocking his door.

"Bye, Ms. Niccole. Thank you for taking me home." Billy said, polite as always. "Spencer, you can keep the clothes in case you need them next Sunday."

"Thanks." I murmured. "Bye." I stared at Billy as he walked up to his house, feeling misery sink in.

"What happened?" Aunt Niccole asked concerned.

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