Page 79 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Maybe I won’t next time!”
“Or why don’t I join you for once?” Brenda growled. “You can show me what keeps you so busy day and night. That should put my suspicions to rest. In fact, let’s plan on it! I can’t wait to see for myself!”
“Louder,” Cameron said when New Order began to play.
“Are you sure?” Anthony asked before cranking it up.
The bass was enough to shake the glass of water on his nightstand, and yet, he could still hear his parents yelling, even if the words were incomprehensible.
Anthony returned to the bed, sitting on the edge and reaching for his hand. But the mood was thoroughly ruined.
“I’ve got my own car now,” Anthony said, leaning closer to be heard. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” Cameron said, not hiding his relief.
He hopped up, turned off the music, and grabbed their coats. They hightailed it down the stairs and out the front door like the house was on fire. Even from the driveway, a muffled argument could still be heard. He only managed to escape it completely when shut inside Anthony’s car.
“Where to?” his boyfriend asked.
“The willow tree,” Cameron suggested.
Their sanctuary. At one time, it had been his alone, but now he had someone to share it with. He was distracted on the short drive there, and didn’t realize that Anthony was talking to him until they parked.
“What do you think?” his boyfriend prompted.
Cameron shook his head with an apologetic expression. “I missed what you said.”
“That’s okay.” Anthony’s tone was understanding. “I was only trying to distract you anyway.”
Cameron swallowed. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool,” Anthony assured him. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
They left the car and walked across an empty field, passing a weather-worn "for sale” sign along the way. The overgrown grass around them buzzed with the occasional insect. They heard something small scurry away from them. Spring had breathed life into the world again. When they reached the willow tree, fresh buds decorated the drooping branches. Cameron was already dreaming of warm summer nights spent with Anthony beneath a green canopy. Maybe they would buy the land someday and build a house for themselves. He was sure it would be a happier home than what he had grown up in.
“Do your parents ever fight like that?” Cameron asked, leaning against the tree for support.
Anthony eyed him with concern before taking his hand and pressing it against his lips. “Sometimes.”
“How often? A few times per year?”
Anthony looked uncomfortable. “No, I mean a few times since I was born.”
Cameron stared in disbelief. “But they have smaller arguments, right?”
Anthony shrugged. “They bicker sometimes. Nothing serious. Does that um… Does what we heard happen often?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said with a tight throat. “All the time. They didn’t argue as much when I was younger, but these days…”
“Oh.” Anthony squeezed his hand. “I know you worry that your parents will get a divorce, but if mine fought like that, I’d probably hope they would. They might be happier that way.”
Cameron shook his head instantly. “You don’t get it.”
Anthony shifted so they were facing each other. “Then help me understand.”
Cameron looked into sympathetic green eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Do you like my mom?”
“Yeah! I love her.”
