Wrote this entire chapter to Avril Lavigne songs. I apologize if it's a little bipolar.

Sitting down at the table next to Tommy, across from my father, anger flared. Tommy's small hand was still clutching mine. I tried yanking it away, but he leaned over and punched my leg with his other fist. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the ache.

"Tommy, how are you?" My dad asked.

"I'm great. Yourself?" Tommy had his awkward voice. It was high pitched, always sounded happy – yet sounded unsure. Like he was giving false answers and asking the wrong questions.

Usually, I'd find it adorable. Now I just wanted to push him over. "I'm wonderful. So, uh, what happened to your face?" I tried not to smile.

"I dropped my straightening iron...on my face...and it burned me." I sputtered out a laugh and he glared at me.

"Sorry." I muttered insincerely. "Dad, what have you been up to?"

He started rambling on and on – much like my mother had this morning – about life. I was just happy we were both ignoring the asshole-ish blonde I was sitting near.

Tommy seemed content with it, sipping a beer, twiddling his thumbs and staring blankly at the the table cloth. The waitress – who knew who I was and had ferociously fangirled when she saw me – repeatedly checked out Tommy as he ordered, getting flustered when he spoke.

As she walked away, my father took the liberty of embarrassing him further. "You know, I think that girl has a thing for you, Tommy Joe." He gaped.

"Well, uh..."

"Why don't you talk to her? She seemed nice." My father, ever the intrusive one.

"Well, I'm kind of, sort of not necessarily single at the moment, sir." Tommy stated.

"Who are you with, then?" Why was he doing this? Tommy's face looked panicked.

"Dad, just leave him alone." I blurted. They both looked at me. Tommy seemed relieved, my dad seemed irritated. "He obviously doesn't want to talk about his relationships with his boss's father. It's not your business, anyway."

"It is my business." I cocked my head to the side. "When I hear a straight boy has intentions with my son, it tend to become my business. It's not safe for either of you, and I intend on telling you that."

"Dad-"

"Uh, excuse me?" Tommy interrupted. "I've never once said I was straight. To either of you. Both of you are the ones assuming this, and I'm just so done with letting it pass.

"It's all been a cover. I've told everyone I was straight my whole life to avoid confrontation about it. It made things easier for the time being. But now, sitting here with you two who both refuse to fucking trust me because of this...I feel slightly obligated to tell you that I'm not straight. I've never been straight.

"I like boys just as much as I like girls. I love Adam. I'm also so fucking sick and tired of being put in situations like this. What's it matter to either of you what I do in bed? If I love someone, it shouldn't matter what I prefer. So, thank you both for being complete and udder jackasses. Much appreciated."

Tommy stood, walking away from the table after throwing his napkin off his lap and onto the table. My heart had sunk along with my face. Shit. I'd fucked up. I'd made him feel bad, even after I'd been in the same position as he had, I'd been careless and heartless. I was a bastard. I hated myself.

I stood, following him into the bathroom. He had locked himself in a stall as I entered the bathroom. "Tommy,"

"Go away, Adam. You're the last person I want to talk to."

A man in a black suit left the bathroom after drying his hands, leaving just Tommy and me. "Pretty sure my dad's the last person you want to talk to." I heard him sniffle. I leaned over to the door, locking it. "Please, come out here."

"No." I sighed.

"Please?"

"Why?"

"Because I need to talk to you, and I'd prefer not to do it through a bathroom stall." I leaned against the wall near the door as I heard the stall lock click and the black door open, reviling a tiny blonde.

He refused to look at me. "I really don't know what to say." He hiccuped.

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because you never gave me the chance."

"I gave you plenty of fucking chances."

"When? When the fuck were you listening to me long enough to care? You've never cared! About anything but yourself!"

"That's not true, Tommy, and you fucking know it." I growled, glaring at him.

"It feels true. It feels like you don't care. It feels like I'm alone. It feels like you'll never love me. It feels like no one will ever understand. Whether it's the truth or not doesn't change the way I feel." He finally looked up at me. His brown eyes were pouring out tears, his chin quivering, his face truly bothered.

"Tommy-"

"Don't give me a pep talk about how I'm not alone, Adam." He told me.

I just walked toward him, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him tightly to me. His body went rigged before I kissed his hair. He relaxed into my arms and tears stained the shoulder of my shirt. "I love you." I told him.

He sobbed. For the first time, I actually heard him completely break. His body shook with sobs, his fists around clumps of my shirt. He continued to cry, his sobs growing louder and stronger every time I spoke. "Tommy?" A small squeak of a sob. Improvement. "Should we leave?"

He nodded. He pulled away, looking at his face in the mirror. Eyes bloodshot, cheeks with black tear streaks. Not to mention that God awful burn. "I look like shit." He murmured.

"You're perfect." He shook his head. Wiping his face with wet paper towel, he avoided my glance. "Meet me in the car. Go out back, avoid the inevitable paparazzi. I'll tell my dad." He nodded and I kissed his forehead.

I left the bathroom after unlocking the door, walking to the table where my dad no longer was. I raised my eyebrows, searching the room. He was sitting at the bar, watching some football game. I tapped him on his shoulder and he turned.

"Uh, hey."

"You know I never meant to make him angry, right?" He asked quickly. I nodded.

"Of course." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Anyway, Tommy and I are going to head out." He nodded.

"Adam?"

"Yes?"

"I-I know I'm probably not the first person you want to hear this from, but – make sure you don't rush things with him. He's a good guy, he's definitely isn't as experienced as you. Don't scare him off – you have the tendency to do so." I rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes. He's good for you, don't lose him."

I smiled and nodded. We hugged, and I exited out the front of the restaurant stupidly. I was swarmed by bright lights and shouting. Holy shit, I would never get used to this. I just smiled and played nice, attempting to find my shiny, black Mustang somewhere in this fucking lot.

I did, eventually, getting in and maneuvering my way around running people over. Tommy was quiet in the passenger's seat. "Shit, I have to stop for gas." I muttered, pulling into a station a few minutes later. "And of course I can't pay out here, that would be far too easy."

Why did this have to be so inconvenient? I sighed. Minutes later as I was walking into the store, a small hand slipped into mine and Tommy's body leaned into mine. I smiled. We walked through the doors and Tommy vanished from beside me, walking toward a candy section.

I shook my head, following him. I smiled at seeing him grabbing multiple bags of candy. "Tommy."

"Did you really think I was going to talk all night without some candy first?" I laughed. He shoved the bags into my arms, then walked away. I walked up to the counter, setting them down and paying for the many items.

Walking out to the car, I set the bag in his lap and he grinned at me. "Tommy?" I asked.

"I love you." He stated. I bit my lip, starting the car and driving off.