It wasn't long before we saw him, standing next to his vehicle, patiently waiting as he always did.
Parker was low-profile, easygoing-the type of person who did not make waves. He did whatever Arzhel told him to do unquestioningly, something that everyone was aware of simply because he was crushing on him. Parker relaxed a little upon seeing us get closer, even though he tried to act indifferent. "Parker! Baby!" Arzhel yelled, lurching towards him with a smile. "You ready to get us home?" Parker tilted his head, his own expression serene as ever, yet I noticed the swift look he cast at Arzhel, that flicker of something else. Arzhel didn't appear to notice-or perhaps he simply didn't care. He was laughing too much, wrapping himself around Parker as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world. Arzhel chuckled as we all got into the car. "You're the best, Parker. Seriously." He leaned closer, his breath reeking of booze. "Aww, shame you're not my type. You know I don't date white boys." Parker's expression did not alter, but I noticed how his hand clenched on the steering wheel. My stomach clenched. Arzhel always tossed that phrase out, as if it were nothing, as if it weren't important. But I knew that it did. Parker never said so, but the words hurt him each time. I got comfortable in the backseat, my head against the window, seeing the trees whizzing by as Parker began to drive. Arzhel, though, was leaning halfway into the front seat, his hand on Parker's arm, a wicked smile on his face. "You're a good man, Parker," arzhel said, his voice falling into something gentler, almost flirtatious. "You'd make someone very happy, you know that? Parker's gaze flickered to Arzhel for a second before fixing on the road again. Not a word was said by him, but I saw how tense he was, how his jaw clenched every time Jake leaned forward. I wanted to tell him something. To tell arzhel to leave him be, to stop playing Parker's emotions like this. But the words were stuck in my throat. Instead, I simply sat there, sensing the tension thicken the air between us. "Cyrus, you alright in the back?" Arzhel exclaimed abruptly, whirling around to look at me, his eyes foggy from the alcohol. "yeah," I breathed, hardly audible. But I wasn't. Not really. The rest of the ride was filled with the sound of arzhel's laughter, taunting Parker in the same reckless manner, and me, more subdued, with the night pressing down on me more than ever. I didn't know if things would improve or deteriorate from this point. But one thing was for sure-this school year was already starting off messy. As Parker's vehicle came to a halt before my house, I felt the weight of the night pressing down upon me. I slid quietly out of the backseat, muttering a quick "thanks" to Parker. Arzhel himself was still laughing, bent over in the front seat, unaware of anything but his own amusement. I nodded to Parker, who gave me a silent, knowing look before peeling off into the darkness. I crept around the side of the house, keeping away from the front door. The bedroom window was just high enough that I had to stand up and use the ledge to pull myself up. I made it in by the skin of my teeth, coming to a soft landing on the carpet. My heart was still pounding, party adrenaline yet to dissipate. I removed my shoes and put on my hoodie and sweatpants from the chair beside my desk. I changed quickly, exhaustion overcoming me now that I was by myself. The bed seemed more welcoming than ever, and I was just going to collapse into it when I heard the door creak open. My mother stood in the doorway, narrowed eyes, crossed arms. My heart went into my throat. "Where have you been, Cyrus?" Her tone was even, but with a bite to it that stopped me in my tracks.Cyrus First Person Point Of View "Cyrus, you are definitely hiding something. It shows all over your face." He leaned in close, and I couldn't help flinching, stepping backward until my shoulders were pressed into the wall. "I swear," I said, attempting to wipe away my eyes, which just refused to stop being all watery. "I didn't mean to—" “Enough!” he bellowed, rattling the entire room. "Hey, stop crying and listen for once!" I couldn’t. I was too scared. He clamped his hand down onto my shoulder and moved in toward my face. “Come on, tell me, or you aren't going to like what's next.” "Cyrus, listen to this. Don't make me repeat it," my dad complained, his fists clenched tight. I shook like mad, and tears just rolled down my face. But before he could say anything else, the door creaked open. And my mom was standing there, scowling and sort of annoyed. She just observed the whole thing, shifting between my dad's worried expression and my sniffling, disheveled one.
Cyrus First Person Point of ViewThe door hit the wall loudly, waking me completely. My heart started racing as I attempted to roll out of bed, and my phone fell out of my hand. My dad had just appeared in the doorway and he seemed really angry. "Hi, who took you home?" he asked in a soft voice. I squirmed uncomfortably, my mouth dry, not quite knowing what to say. "Uh. I—" "Get up," he said, advancing. I sort of dragged myself out of bed, staring at the ground the entire time. I could feel his presence towering over me, his frustration radiating like heat. I could feel my heart pounding, just waiting for those nasty words I knew were coming my way. But they haven't yet. Not yet. "what's going on with you?" he asked, his voice slightly softer, though you could still pick out that edge. I swallowed hard, but nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing seemed quite right in that moment, just this crushing sensation of foreboding for what lay ahead. "Why?" he question
Cyrus First Person Point Of ViewI caught his gaze for a moment before averting my eyes, too shy to maintain them for any longer.He was going to continue when his phone buzzed. He took it out and glanced at the display."Yes, I'm coming," he said gruffly, his voice deepeningIt was hard to make out Troy's voice via the speaker, asking where he was.Derick slammed the receiver down and turned to me, something in his eyes.He put his helmet on, and instead of starting to rev the bike, he gave me one final hard, long stare-as if he were figuring something out."Later, Cyrus," he told him, his deep voice a virtual guarantee.I stood frozen, my heart thumping, watching him ride off into the distance.My hands were shaking, but not out of fear this time.When I returned to my house, I had an unusual sensation in my stomach.Those butterflies. they seemed to sense something that I didn't.The moment I entered, all that crossed my mind was Derick.He had his arms around the bike and pressed
Cyrus First Person Point Of viewI gritted my teeth, straining to keep my grip on him, my whole body stretched tight as the strange feeling of motorbike beneath me overwhelmed my senses.Derick must have seen, because he presently slowed the motorcycle onto the shoulder of the road, the deafening din slowly receding into stillness.I breathed in deep, ragged gasps, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. My hands shook, and there appeared to be a tight band tightening around my chest. Never had I been on a motorcycle, and never had anyone pressed so intimately against me."Hey," his voice cut through my terror, firm and calm. He moved in close to me, his arms tight around my waist and lifting me off the bike.I stumbled a bit, recovering my balance as my feet hit the ground, but quickly had Derick's strong hands supporting me, holding onto my waist.I raised my eyes to his, holding my breath for a moment as our eyes met. His gaze was piercing, but deep within it lay a gentleness, some
Cyrus First Person Point Of viewI could feel him wondering why I was sitting by myself on the stairs."Are you okay?" he asked finally, his tones softer than they had sounded all day, though unmistakably concerned.I quickly nodded, lowering my eyes to my hands. Tightness seized my throat, making me swallow hard."Missed the bus?" he persisted, towering over me with one hand shoved far into his pocket and the other tapping his keys.I paused before I answered.I wasn't sure what to do.My father had planned to arrive and pick me up, but the prospect of having to tell Derick what had occurred seemed somehow utterly frightening.I wasn't used to explaining myself, especially to someone like him.Derick dropped to his knees next to me, tipping his face toward mine.He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes slanting suspiciously and his voice taking a deeper, more ominous quality.Come now, no need for lies. What are you doing here all alone today?I shifted uncomfortably, my muscles tensing un
Cyrus First Person Point Of View“This time everyone's getting a warning, but next time, you won't be so lucky."Every person in the room experienced this relief wave. The guys sighed, and their normal cocky attitudes returned immediately.They started cracking jokes, taunting each other, but I barely heard them.I was kind of dazed, but the relief was completely overwhelmed by the immense fear of what my dad would say when we returned home.The men surrounded Arzhel and me, looking all concerned and such."Hey Cyrus, don't cry, okay?" one of them commented, but I completely caught the taunting attitude they were giving out.Derick's voice completely ruined the atmosphere."Cut that out," he instructed sternly, giving the group a hard stare.They all sort of smiled shyly but then retreated, leaving Arzhel and me alone.Derick locked eyes with me, his gaze unreadable. "Yo," he said, his voice low.I gazed up at him, wiping away tears."Stop crying," he told her, though he wasn't being