Chapter Seventeen: Baby, Don't You Know…

Adam's POV

Tommy had a girlfriend.

Tommy had a girlfriend. From Chicago.

Tommy Joe Ratliff, the one boy I'd developed the world's largest, gayest crush on, had a girlfriend, from Chicago, whom he seemed pretty… pretty damn close to. A girl who probably had long, luscious hair, curves to die for, great boobs and a wonderful personality. A girl who probably knew all of Tommy's quirks and secrets and what made him happy and what made him smile and what could cheer him up whenever he was sad. A girl who could turn heads but was, no doubt, utterly faithful to him considering they were keeping their relationship despite being hundreds of miles apart…

A girl who was probably perfect in Tommy's eyes… A girl who wasn't… me. A fag. A queer. A stupid theatre nut and chorister who just happened to be head over heels for the hot rod from Illinois. The hot rod who had a fucking girlfriend.

God, how could I have been so stupid? To have been so unbelievably blind to everything. How could I have thought that Tommy would have any interest in me when he was already dating someone else? How would someone like Tommy—Tommy, fuck!—have any interest in someone like me? A fucking… cock-loving loser…

A miserable sigh escaped my lips as I shut my locker, spinning the dial to lock it before turning to walk down the hall. School had only just started and I felt utterly exhausted and in need of a nap. My head was too busy spinning in circles for me to try to concentrate, and honestly it was a miracle I was able to open my locker in the first place. How would I be able to learn anything?

God, I'm pathetic.

'Get a hold of yourself, Lambert, it's not like this is the first time you've crushed on a straight boy, now get over yourself. For crying out loud…' I thought to myself. I had a point, but for some reason this just felt… different. Different in a good way and a bad way. All the other boys I'd ever crushed on were the types that I knew I would never have a chance with. Tommy was different. I felt like… like maybe…

'Obviously not.'

Grumbling softly to myself, I made my way to English, pushing through the crowds of obnoxious teenagers and football players before squeezing my way into the classroom itself. I wasn't sure why people felt the need to crowd hallways and doorways but they did, and it irritated the hell out of me every time I had to force my way through a group of people. Most of the times it was annoying freshman or groups of preps. Either way, they were all annoying.

Taking my seat, I pulled out a journal and a pen, but I didn't flip it open. Not yet. I bit down on my bottom lip, wondering why I had stopped myself before someone's bag slammed into my shoulder. I growled softly, palming my hand against the spot. When I looked up and saw one of the football players who had a wonderful habit of being a dickwad towards me, I realized why I'd hesitated so suddenly.

God, this day just couldn't get any better, could it?

"What's the matter, faggot? Upset your little boy toy isn't here?" He sneered. I glared and turned away from him, reaching into my bag to grab my copy of Wicked. I'd just set it down on my table when his shadow loomed over me, and his massive hand snatched the book away.

"Hey! Give that back!" I snarled, standing from my seat, reaching for it. But he was a good head and a half taller than I was—and I was rather tall to begin with—and maybe one hundred and fifty pounds heavier. Just looking at him and seeing how far away my book was as he held it in the air, I knew I didn't have a chance at fighting this motherfucker.

"Why, do you like reading books about fairies and witches, queer? Huh? Do you like little fantasy tales?" He laughed, palming a hand onto my chest and shoving me away before throwing my book onto the floor. I watched as the cover flew open and pages fluttered before it fell, pages bent and crinkled, at my feet. "Why don't you fucking grow a pair and learn to be a real fucking man?"

"And why don't you grow a goddamn brain, get your balls out of your ass and leave him the fuck alone?" Tommy's voice sounded from my side and I turned to see the blond there, my book in his hands, but his eyes were on the football player.

"Who are you to tell me what to do, fag?" Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Is that the only word you know? I could think of a dozen different ways to call you a closeted, insecure ass-kissing, cock-sucking, cunt-fearing, steroid-using prick that can send you crying home to mommy like the little baby you are. Now shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down."

The room was silent, and I was sure everyone was incredibly grateful that the teacher wasn't present just yet. I watched in amazement as the jock's face reddened, but he complied and sat down in his seat, turning away from myself and Tommy. I turned my attention to the blond with wide eyes as he handed me my book.

"What?" He asked, and I shook my head, going back to my seat. Tommy sighed softly from behind me, and I looked up to see him sitting on the edge of my desk.

"What do you want, Tommy?" I asked, pushing my journal and book out of the way of him sitting on them. Tommy looked down at his hands, his face becoming a little withdrawn and serious.

"I want to know why you haven't talked to me. Ever since that sleepover after the concert, you haven't said a word to me. It's been, like, three weeks, bro. What's going on?" He muttered. I didn't look at him, and I didn't speak for the longest time. Why didn't I talk to him? What was I supposed to say? Sorry for not speaking to you, I just have this monstrous crush on you and now you've told me you've got a girlfriend. How are you? I'm fucking swell.

"I've been busy," I lied, flipping the pages of my book with the tip of my thumb. Tommy huffed softly, shifting to look down at me.

"Bullshit. How can you be busy during the entire month of January? Nothing goes on in January." He snipped and I rolled my eyes.

"I just have been, okay? So butt out of it." I replied, pushing his hip to get him off my desk. Tommy sighed heavily, grabbing his backpack before reaching into it, fishing around. I didn't look at him. I didn't want to. I knew if I did I'd spill everything and I really didn't want to do that in the middle of a classroom full of people.

After a moment, Tommy pulled out a box that was wrapped in blue paper with a silver bow on it, and he set it on my desk. "I got this for you… for your birthday. But you're not allowed to open it until tonight at your party." He said, his voice clipped and short as he took his seat. I stared down at it for a long while, feeling like an asshole for forgetting my own birthday, as well as for being so rude to Tommy, who still had me in his thoughts even though I ignored him.

Party balloons, streamers, a banner that read "Happy Birthday Adam" and a table full of food was what greeted me when I came home from shopping with my mom after school. There were at least a dozen people there, too. My parents, of course, my little brother, my grandparents, several of my theatre friends, choir friends, a couple of my brother's friends—to keep him occupied—and Tommy and Drake. They all had smiles on their faces as they shouted the words that the banner had.

I smiled softly at all of them, feeling embarrassed as I was pulled into the arms of several of my friends. Sure, I knew that there was going to be a party tonight for my birthday, but I hadn't expected so many people to show up. And how did my parents know so many of my friends from theatre and choir? I never brought anyone home to hang out with—Tommy being the exception—and I never really talked about anyone unless I had some kind of a story to tell them, and that didn't happen very often.

So to see everyone was a bit of a shock. But I think the two people I was happiest to see were Tommy and Drake. Drake and I had gotten pretty close since the concert, since he was on stage crew for theatre, helping paint and build all of the props and sets for our musical due for production in the spring. Tommy, of course, because he was my best friend…

I looked around at everyone, smiling and thanking them for everything before I felt arms loop around my neck. Drake was hugging me tightly and I laughed a little, hugging him back. "Hey, Drake, thanks for making it!" I said and he pulled away, beaming at me.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world, Adam. You should know that," I blushed a little and shrugged as he handed me a neatly wrapped box. "Happy birthday."

"You didn't have to.." I trailed off, but Drake rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yes I did. It's not every day you turn seventeen. Now shut up and open it." I sighed and smiled, gently peeling the tape away from the paper before opening it slowly. Inside was a white box about the size of my palm. Popping the lid, I peered inside to see a gift card for iTunes as well as a treble clef pendant on a silver chain. My smiled widened as I looked up at Drake.

"It's beautiful, thank you!" Drake beamed at me, taking the pendant from the box before clasping it around my neck.

"I know how much music means to you, and I figured this was just too perfect to pass up." I chuckled softly, giving him another hug before pulling away. Setting the box and paper aside, I reached into my backpack, which was sitting on the floor by the table, to retrieve Tommy's gift. I'd kept my promise in not opening it, but since Drake made me open his, I figured it was only fair that I open Tommy's as well.

The blond came to my side as I peeled the paper open. Inside was an identical white box, but the weight was different. Opening the lid, I saw a handmade hemp bracelet, the ones that are made with square knots and beads. The cords were black and white, and the beads look like they were made of wood and painted to resemble different Egyptian hieroglyphics. In the center was a large bead painted with the Eye of Horus.

"Tommy," I gasped, gently trailing my fingers along it. "This is… I can't even…"

"Your parents told me you really, really like Egypt, and I saw the beads at a craft store. You're lucky my sister knows how to make friendship bracelets, otherwise I probably would just given you the bag of beads," he told me with a laugh and a smile.

"You made this for me?" I asked, staring hard at him. Tommy's face reddened a little and he nodded once.

"Yeah. Took me a while, but I wanted to make sure I did it right, you know?" I nodded slowly, smiling as I took the bracelet into hand. It was big enough for me to slip my hand through, and it hung loose around my wrist. I turned to Tommy and hugged him tight, relishing in the feel of his arms looping around my waist, giving me an affectionate squeeze.

"Thank you, Tommy. This means a lot to me."

"Oh, come off it, it's just a bracelet," he teased and I shook my head as we pulled away.

"I meant being here. I'm sorry I've been.. distant, lately. I've just had a lot on my mind." I told him. It wasn't a lie. I did have a lot. Too much sometimes for me to handle, but Tommy just waved me off and grinned like a fool at me.

"Don't worry about it, Adam. It's fine. Just promise me you won't continue to ignore me?" He said with a pleading pout and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, fine," I said, kissing his cheek.