Page 20 of Antidote

What if one of us doesn’t get accepted? What if Hunter doesn’t get accepted?

He kisses my neck, his soft, full lips lingering on my skin, and I grin. Hunter can be so affectionate; in fact, he always kisses me or touches me in some way. He has to have his hands on me at all times, and it makes me wonder what he’d be like if we went public. Would he be this affectionate? Would public displays of affection bother him?

“Tell me something,” I pry. “Something no one else knows.”

“What do you mean?” he asks cautiously, and I know there’s plenty he keeps buried deep inside of him that has never—and probably will never—seen the light of day.

“I feel like I don’t know anything about you.” I bite my bottom lip and suck it into my mouth. “Just one thing, please?”

“You know everything about me,” he replies, and my stomach drops. “Try it. Tell me about me.”

“You first.” I wiggle again, and he plasters himself to my back until there’s no space between us. He presses his lips to the shell of my ear and kisses it softly, and then he’s whispering so we’re not loud, and so no one comes knocking on the door. It is midnight, after all.

“Let’s see,” he starts, and I take a deep breath, bracing myself. Has he paid attention to me all these years? “You love Peppermint Mocha Frappuccinos no matter the time of year. You also like iced coffee over hot coffee.”

“How…do you remember that?”

“Give me a little more credit, Ollie.” I just know he’s smiling. “Oh, you love winter and snow. Painting is your favorite thing to do, but sketching is a close second.”

“Oh, yeah?” I grin. “So, what do I love to paint most?”

“Me.”

I chuckle, “You also like iced coffee, Mr. White Chocolate Mocha.”

“What else?”

“You like hockey.” I try to shrug, but he holds me tighter. “You want to be drafted. Oh, and you love to read boring books.”

Hunter pinches my side, “They are not boring.”

“Classics are fucking boring, Hunter.” I chuckle, “What else? Tell me more.”

He hesitates and holds me a little tighter. “I’m afraid of being abandoned.” I can hear him swallow hard. “My dad didn’t want me, and now I’m scared of that feeling. Of not being wanted.”

“I could never not want you,” I reassure him, then pry him off me and turn over in bed so we’re facing each other. Our foreheads meet, and our noses brush, and then I tenderly kiss him. “You’re amazing, and you’re so damn special to me, Hunt. I could never leave you.”

“Please don’t leave me.” The words leave his lips in a hushed tone so low I’m not sure they were meant for me. But then he squeezes me tighter and kisses my nose. “I don’t know if I can survive that.”

I know I wouldn’t.

The crowd goes wild as The Hurricanes score again, putting us up three to one, with our team in the lead. The guy who scores takes a little bow, and we roar at his celebration. It’s electric in the arena, and the more people scream and chant, the better the team plays. It’s been a long time since we all came together to a hockey game as a family, and it’s nice to see Mom and Dad lost in it, smiling and yelling every time they get excited about something—even if Dad’s smile will never be directed at me. On the other hand, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Being within touching distance of Hunter yet unable to give in to the urge to wrap my arms around him.

We keep stealing glances at each other, trying not to make it obvious, but I’m pretty sure Mom has caught us a time or two, as she always does. It’s odd that she’s never said anything about it or even attempted to bring it up. I can tell she knows something is happening between us because she always raises an eyebrow at me when she catches me drooling over him, but she has never commented on it, even when I’m caught red-handed. It makes me nervous that she will turn around and reject the idea of us being together one day. I know her approval is essential to Hunter, and if she tells him no, he will break up with me. No matter how much he says he loves me.

He’s still not ready to come out, even though we’re almost done with senior year. It’s a conversation we’ve had time and time again, yet he always evades the question. He’s a master at that, and I let it slide because I’m scared of the answer. There must be a reason he’s trying not to hurt my feelings, and sometimes, it’s less painful to stay in the dark. I feel like it’s easier to live in a dream world where we’re happy and together, even if it’s in a bubble. I’d happily stay in the bubble as long as it takes, just so he can give me whatever pieces of himself he’s willing to part with.

With my questions staying unanswered though, comes many doubts and fears. When will this be over? Will he ever even come out to our parents? Does he actually love me, or am I just someone to pass the time with until we go to college? Something tells me his feelings for me are genuine, but it’s still scary to be kept in the dark. And the possibility of it being forever makes my throat close the hell up.

The Hurricanes almost score again, but Boston’s goalie blocks it with his pad. The puck ricochets, and the Bruins take control of it, one of the forwards soaring across the rink. We hold our breaths, and a collective silence falls over us as he flicks his wrist and delivers a hell of a shot, just for it to be caught by our goalie in his glove. The whistle sounds off, and we celebrate again.

Hunter and I steal a glimpse at one another, and he grins while pleading with his eyes all at the same time. I can’t tell what he’s asking for, though my stomach dips, and before I can figure it out he turns his stare back to the game. My dad and him are both enraptured by the game, and it’s nice to see them in their element. Conrad has always been his biggest supporter despite not being blood-related. It makes me so damn happy that Hunter can experience what a dad is supposed to be like. He didn’t have that with his biological father. And I know that he never will. Even if my dad doesn’t give a shit about me half the time, I’m glad Hunt has a good relationship with him.

I keep my focus on him for another moment, memorizing the way his expression lights up as The Hurricanes score another goal. The way he jumps up and down and screams. It makes me smile to see him happy, even though it feels like my blood is boiling from how unsure I am about everything. Maybe we need to have another talk. Maybe?—

When I tear my gaze away from him, I find Lucy staring right at me. Her lips are pursed, and she raises an eyebrow. I glance away immediately, and I feel my face heating up. This isn’t the time to have a conversation, and I say a little prayer that she lets this go.

Please, please. Just drop it.

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