Prove It

Prologue

MAC

BACK THEN

I knew this would end badly. I fucking knew, and yet I did it anyways. Now I’ve dragged Sage along, once again, convincing him to go along with another one of my asinine ideas.

I mean—it worked. The whole point was to distract him, get him to laugh. And he did. He laughed so hard he doubled over, smiled so wide I saw all his teeth. But now consequences are chasing us down.

Somehow my dad got word of what we’d done. Just like he always does. He has everyone in his dirty pocket, all of them ready to rat me out for the slightest shit. The consequences don’t seem to stop me, though. I keep fucking off and fucking shit up.

“Run faster, asshole!” Sage shouts over his shoulder.

His taunts fill the air as I chase after him, his blond hair disappearing the further away he gets.

I pump my arms harder, pushing myself to run faster.

My lungs burn with the need for air, every breath panted out not nearly enough.

But I can’t stop. Not when Dad is screaming my name behind me.

We’re seventeen, and our world is so small.

So messed up. Our future should be bright and full of potential.

Not a dark, dead-end road leading us nowhere.

We should have been getting drunk for the first time, but that happened when I was nine.

We should be hanging out with friends, not running from my deranged father after cleaning Sage’s mom off the kitchen floor.

She’s drinking again. She had been sober for almost a year, but tonight she started back at square zero.

When we came home from school, we found her sad and broken on the floor.

We got her cleaned up and put to bed. The whole time she sobbed and pleaded, begging us to believe this was a one-time mistake.

That she was so, so, sorry. That she’ll do better.

Naturally, I forgave her. Lisa Meadows is the mom I’ve always wanted. Always telling me how welcome I am. How much she loves me. How good I am for Sage. She has her demons, but she never takes them out on me. Unlike my parents.

The bruise my father gave me smarts on my cheek. The first blow of his punishment for my prank.

Sage, on the other hand, couldn’t forgive her.

Not yet. He will, though; he always does.

But he was so angry at her. Punched a hole in the wall of his room while he paced the small space, muttering about how pathetic he had been for believing she’d stay clean this time.

How selfish she was for failing yet again.

I had to do something. While his anger grew and grew with no outlet, I came up with a plan. A dumbass plan.

Sage is so quick to anger. He gets so pissed off, he acts out. Can’t keep the wrath from spilling out his mouth. It’s gotten him in situations that he can’t get himself out of. So, I help. I step in and fight beside him.

Just last week, I beat the shit out of that dick, Clint. Sage, to his credit, was defending my mom. I’m not sure why. Mom is a drug addict who doesn’t bother to protect me. What Clint said was true.

One point towards my dad, I guess. He taught me how to take a punch.

I wanted to avoid him unleashing his anger at his mom.

She might have fucked up, but she’s a good person.

Sage knows that, but when he’s that upset, he can’t see any of her good qualities.

So, I took him out to the old farm near Jessie James Trailer Park where we live, egging him on like I always do.

Telling him to prove it when he claimed he wasn’t afraid.

We should be afraid. The consequences always come.

But he did it—he marched out onto the field and spray-painted a damn cow.

I stole the spray paint from Harley days ago.

It’s been begging for me to do something with it.

And seeing Sage fumble with the can and spray-paint a dick on the side of a cow was the perfect thing.

Even now with the outcome hot on my heels and my cheek throbbing along with my racing heart, I can’t fight the smile.

Only when the hole in the bottom of my shoe meets a rock does it waver.

Pain shoots up my foot, and I stumble, barely catching myself before I face plant.

Finally, making it out onto the sandy beach at the docks, I stop.

Sucking in air and bending over, my arm clutches the stitch at my side.

The docks are quiet; only the sound of ducks can be heard. Dad’s voice stopped calling for me soon after I reached the thin line of trees surrounding Jessie James Park.

He probably already got distracted. He’s high as shit and won’t remember he was after me until he sees me again. Object permanence is tricky sometimes. Something he’s struggled with my entire life. Like remembering I exist and require food.

All thoughts of my dad vanish when I catch my breath enough to stand.

I spot Sage leaning against the side of the old boat house.

My heart that’s still pounding from the chase skips.

His arms crossed over his bare chest, his foot kicked back and rested against the old wood.

He’s giving me an arrogant smirk as he waits for me.

He’s my best friend. I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. But lately, I can’t seem to stop constantly cataloging everything I can. Like the small dimple that pops up when he grins.

Sage has been there with me through everything.

From the first day he moved into the park, he had my back.

Letting me crash in his room whenever Dad was on a bender, or Dad’s anger outweighed his logic.

He let me call his mom “mom”. I owe him.

So, I’ve made it my life’s purpose to make him happy.

To help the anger that eats away at him like a plague.

I’m not supposed to fantasize about him. Not eye fuck him every time he takes his shirt off. I’m eaten away with guilt over the thoughts that haunt me.

I know I’m gay. I think I’ve always known. I’ve never had any interest in girls. While friends laughed and joked, and talked about boobs, I never got the appeal.

But I play along. My dad would fucking kill me if he found out.

The way he reacted when my friend, Luna, came out was enough to keep my mouth shut.

Sage wouldn’t care, I don’t think. But he would fucking care about the boners I get whenever I wake up next to him.

He would care about the thoughts circling my head right now as I walk over to him.

“You’re so goddamn slow!” Sage teases, kicking off the boat house.

The wood groans from the action. One day, this old pile of shit will fall and wash away into the lake.

But until then, we will keep coming here.

Dad would never come here. It’s our safe haven.

For years, it’s been our hangout. Our names carved into the wood at the docks, our little stamps of existence written everywhere.

“Fuck off. I’m bigger than you. Hard to run with all this muscle.

” I flex my arm, and he rolls his eyes. I’m getting bigger, working out more.

With June leaving food out and Sage’s mom’s terrible cooking, I’ve been able to pack on some weight.

No longer the scrawny little shit I was.

I’m taller than Dad, and soon I’ll be bigger.

I’ll be able to beat his ass, not the other way around.

“Whatever you say, fat ass.” He laughs, and my gut fills with bats. They flap around in my belly as pride swells my chest. Every time I make him laugh, I want to pat myself on the back.

Not many things make me proud. I’m shit at school and sports. I don’t have any skills or talents. But making Sage happy? Yeah, I can fucking do that.

Sage is different when we’re alone. He has never lashed out at me. Never spat out the venom that he’s so quick to unleash on everyone else. I’d burn the world down just to hear that stupid laugh.

I follow him as we walk into the boat house. It really is a piece of shit. The wood is rotten and moldy, the wood breaking under our feet. A giant hole gaping in the ceiling lets in moonlight. It shines on Sage’s blond head like a spotlight.

Goddammit! I have to stop. I can never have him like that. He’s my best fucking friend, and it would ruin everything. Losing Sage isn’t an option. He’s all I have. Well, the only good thing I have.

Why can’t I be into Sawyer? He’s gay. Out and loud about it, too. Why can’t I like him instead of Sage? Sawyer is attractive enough; his face is nice, and his body toned. But no. My thoughts all circle around the grumpy, angry asshole and his stupidly hot body. I’m pathetic.

“Why do I let you talk me into this shit?” he asks, dropping down onto a pile of rusted metal off to the side.

For a second, I worry about tetanus and our lack of vaccines, but my concerns are quick to cease to exist. When he’s tipping his head back to rest against the wall, his Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow.

I take full advantage of his closed eyes, letting myself compose a mental list of all his features. His lean chest, the small indents of muscles. That goddamn V leading down to his dick. The beads of sweat slowly dripping down, down, down.

I jerk my eyes away when I feel my cock take notice, too.

Tentatively, I sit down next to him. The pile of shit under us shifts with my added weight.

I’m careful to keep some space between us, something I’ve perfected lately.

But I feel the heat of him radiating towards me, nevertheless.

The hairs on my arms the only part of me touching his skin. I shouldn’t notice this shit.

I clear my throat. “Because I have the best ideas,” I lie, trying in vain to distract my thoughts.

Sage scoffs, slowly rotating his head against the wood to look at me.

His deep-brown eyes catch the moonlight, making them look golden.

My brain short circuits, my heart skips, my mouth goes so goddamn dry I force myself to swallow.

I want to kiss him. I want to know what he tastes like. How his lips feel against my skin. I want, I want, I fucking want. But I can’t. He’s my best friend. And I would never do anything to fuck that up.