Page 3 of Fallen Stars

But his expression is passive, his frame relaxed as he taps various buttons on the controller.

“Just something I’ve been toying with in my spare time,” I clarify.

He widens his legs and leans back into the chair farther. With that simple move, my gaze drops to his legs, slowly traveling up his thighs until I reach his crotch. Saliva pools in my mouth and I swallow as my dick twitches against my leg.

Don’t fuck up your friendship to appease your dick.

“It’s slower than what you usually play.” His frame stiffens as he jerks the controller right and smashes a combination of buttons. A beat passes before his whole body relaxes again. “Like a ballad.”

At this, I tense.

Essentially, a ballad is a love song, no matter the genre of music. And that’s exactly what that song is… a love song. Written for him. That I’ll never sing in the company of others.

Needing to shift the direction of the conversation, I do what I do best. Mask my feelings with humor. Or at least what I consider humor.

I set the guitar back in the case, twist in my seat, and arch a brow. “Are you saying I’m the next rock ballad legend? That I’ll be on the wall next to Queen, Poison, and Led Zeppelin?” I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Now that I’m rock ‘n’ roll royalty, you should cater to my every whim.”

Levi snorts. “Didn’t take long for that to go to your head.”

“You said it, not?—”

A voice in the hall cuts me off. Thick with false authority, Levi’s dad argues with whoever else is in the hall. The other person talks softly enough to not be heard, and I assume it’s Levi’s mom.

“He will not sit in this house all day and play video games. It’s time he grows up, Felicity. Not fuck around with his queer friend.”

“Jefferson,” his mom scolds loud enough for us to hear. “Oliver is not the problem. And Levi deserves time for himself before he leaves for college.”

The muscles in Levi’s jaw flex as he tosses the controller down and curls his fingers into fists in his lap.

Unfortunately, this is nothing new with his parents. His dad spends every minute they’re together shoving his ideologies down Levi’s throat. Then his mom swoops in, telling Levi he can be whoever he wants and not to worry, that she’ll deal with his dad.

It’s this vicious cycle filled with stress and agony, followed by alleviation and temporary bandages.

“College.” His dad scoffs. “Are you aware of how many times I’ve called the dean of admissions?” A pause of silence. “Five, Felicity. Five goddamn times.”

“Lower your voice and don’t speak to me like that.”

A mumble filters through the door and I assume his dad is apologizing. “Political science should be his major. He should be focusing on what’s best for this family.” His voice rises again. “Instead, he’s switched his major to computer information technology. Every time I have it changed, he has it switched back.” He huffs loud enough to be heard through the wall. “I’m done with his juvenile behavior, Felicity.”

Every cell in my body rushes to my arms and hands and begs me to reach out and comfort Levi. To tell him he can do whatever the hell he wants with his life. That he has the right to choose his own future.

But I clasp my hands in my lap. Focus on the stretch and sting of my knuckles as I resist.

“Your word is not law, Jefferson,” his mom declares. “The hyphenated addition to your surname does not make you above the law.” Seconds tick by in silence, and I hold my breath. “You bearmyname, Jefferson. Do not abuse it with your ego.”

Oh shit.

A mumble floats through the air a moment before Levi’s door swings open and his dad enters the room. Cheeks flushed with anger, Jefferson straightens his spine and looks down at Levi, whose eyes are on the television.

“Say goodbye to Oliver,” he states with practiced control. “The Calhouns and Kemps will be joining us for dinner soon.” His eyes flick to the screen. “The time for games is over.” He swings his gaze back to Levi. “You’re an adult now. Start behaving as such. Clean yourself up and be downstairs in thirty minutes.”

I drop my gaze to Levi’s hands in his lap and watch as his nails dig into his palms. Obvious to anyone paying attention, rage oozes from his pours.

Under normal circumstances, Levi is chill. He’s the quiet observer in the room. The one person you think is bored or uninterested. In reality, he picks up on every minor detail and only gives his attention to what he feels matters.

More often than not, people take advantage of him. They take all he has to offer for granted.

As much as I want to defend him in this moment, as much as I want to rise up and tell his dad to go to hell, I sit in silence and wait for Mr. West to leave the room. Because if I get up now, it will only provoke a yelling match between them.

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