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Its been so long, but here's a new chapter. Thanks for all your patience!

Picture of Mia to the >>>>>>>>>>>>>

Enjoy.

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Aiden's P. O. V

"See you tomorrow Aiden," Kyle called out to me as he headed over to his car, Zack following closely behind, nodding his head in a silent goodbye as he passed me.

"Bye," I replied with a kind smile and he beamed my way.

I shook my head in amusement, still bewildered that Kyle had so easily accepted me and forgiven me for all my wrong doings. Maybe it's just in his nature to forgive and forget, to put the bad things behind where it belonged. Either way I was grateful, because I don't know what I would have done if there was no one in my life to keep me company. Even Zack's come around and we've become close buddies.

I then turned my attention to the person behind me who's been lingering in the background, hoping not to get noticed. "Nathan, do you need a ride home?" I offered and silently wished that he would say yes, even when I knew it was a lost cause.

His eyes snapped sharply my way, making me flinch from the intensity in them. "No, I'm fine, my parents are already on the way here to come pick me up," he said, "but thanks for asking," he added reluctantly. It seemed he only said the last part out of pure courtesy, but nonetheless it made me happy that he had even bothered to do that.

"Oh, well, if you ever need a ride, don't hesitate to ask," I said, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice from his rejection.

It's to be expected, I reminded myself. He does still hate you. The thought saddened me greatly.

"Right," he said stiffly, his eyes full of suspicion, "I'll remember to do that next time."

I pursed my lips together, not knowing what else to say to him at the moment. "Well, goodbye," I said at last and walked away, feeling his probing gaze on me the whole way to my car.

His reactions didn't surprise me; I had known it was going to be like this from the moment we reunited after so long. And I knew he would continue to act that way until I could gain his forgiveness.

He loathed me, hated my guts from what I can tell, and that's not going to change any time soon. All he's doing right now is assessing the best course of revenge to take on me.

He didn't know what to do to me, or how to act around me because I was not what he had expected. He probably thought I would be the same bully I used to be not too long ago, and had prepared himself to deal with that person. However, I was no longer like that. I had renounced those ways and had basically come out of the closet myself; I was like another person entirely. So here he was, at a loss of what to do. He needed a new plan, and he needed the time to think it up.

It was better for me anyways, the longer he took, it only meant more time to prove myself worthy of being forgiven. So I didn't mind his speculation and constant observations of me as if he was expecting me to revert to my old self at any time.

In fact, instead of being annoyed by it like most would, I was enjoying the attention from him. Granted I didn't like the feeling of anticipation that came with it, of not knowing when the revenge would occur, this waiting game, but it wasn't something I couldn't handle. If I couldn't take being burned, then I shouldn't have played with fire from the start. It's only fair, right?

When I reached my car I climbed in, turned on the engine and sped out of the parking lot and to my house. I turned on the radio and sung to the music playing, enjoying what little I could before I arrived home, knowing that once I stepped inside my house, all the fun would be sucked out of the day as I dealt with my overbearing and strict dad.

I couldn't help count down the blocks to my house until I could see its looming structure in the distance and the smile that had occupied my face slipped away and only bleakness replaced it.

Into the devils nest I go, I thought sourly, if not a bit exaggerated. It really wasn't that bad, but it wasn't great either.

I parked my truck in the driveway and got out. I stared up at the two story house that was twice the size all those around it and painted white and sighed tiredly. It was obvious that my family was wealthier than most in the neighborhood, even if my parents' names didn't inform most of that in the first place.

To be perfectly honest, I could care less about the money if it meant fitting in easier with others my age. Most felt intimidated by me due to my wealth, well, my parents wealth anyways, and would either keep their distance, or try to take advantage of me.

I've experienced both sides of the coin, but sometimes, rarely, will I make a friend who accepts me for who I am as a person. A good example of someone like that is Kyle, and possibly Zack, though I think he's pretty well off too, so why would he care for the wealth my family owns when he doesn't need it.

However, even though I don't need the money, I don't think my parents could survive without it. They've grown so used to flaunting and using their money that it's become second nature for them. It annoyed me more than anything else when they buy expensive things that are unnecessary, which is often.

I took a deep breath, gathering up my nerves, and marched forward towards the front door, unlocked it, and went inside.

It looked every bit as amazing inside as it was outside. Filled with furniture of all sorts, all brand names, a family room with the best surround system money can buy; every game station you can think of, along with games for each one.

There was a workout room, an office, a small library, a large pool just outside in the backyard that stretched a good 50 meters, and a pool table and arcade games in the basement, among other lesser decorations that were nailed to the walls and whatnot.

There was also a master bedroom and three other bedrooms that occupied the house, with bathrooms to go with them, a kitchen with all the latest appliances, and a two car garage. It was all too much for me. I preferred things to be simple and homey, what you actually need to survive was all I wanted in a house, not all this useless crap.

I shook my head and made a beeline for the stairs, thinking I could make it to my room before my mom would notice my presence in the house.

I was too late.

My mom emerged from the kitchen, a bright smile on her face that flattered when she saw my face and she gasped in shock. "Aiden, your face! What happened?"

She rushed over to me and started fussing over my injuries, her hands fluttering over my bruises, eyes filled with concern. I gently pushed her hands away, my expression softening.

"I'm fine, it's nothing," I told her soothingly, trying to ease her worrying. She didn't seem to hear me.

"Oh, what am I going to tell your father?" She glanced nervously around as if my father would suddenly appear out on nowhere, but I knew for a fact that he wouldn't be returning home from work until later tonight, around dinner time.

My eyes darkened with anger. "Father doesn't need to know," I said through clenched teeth.

"Of course he does," she said incredulously, looking at me as if I had gone crazy and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes in annoyance.

"I'm going to my room," I announced and headed up the stairs without waiting for an answer.

"Aiden!" My mother called up to me but I ignored her and continued on until I reached my room.

I slammed the door close behind me and locked it, not wanting my mother to come in and bother me. I then headed for my drawers and pulled out a pair of sleep clothes and walked to my bathroom and turned on the shower.

While I waited for the water to turn warm I turned my attention to the mirror that covered one part of the wall and studied my face.

I touched my swollen lip and winced from the pain, then lightly caressed my black eye that was already returning to normal, except for the coloring. I then stripped myself of my shirt and stared at myself in the mirror, taking in the damage caused to me. It looked worse than it felt. Dark, ugly purple bruises covered most of my chest, mostly on my ribs. I turned around to access my back and saw that it didn't look any better.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling tired. Today had been an exhausting day. Between the fight with Jake and Samuel, battling my own emotions concerning Nathan, and everything else, it was all just too much.

All I wanted to do was pass out and sleep for the rest of the day, but I knew that was just hopeful wishing on my part. I knew that once my father returned home, I would not be left alone to enjoy my peace.

Removing the rest of my clothing, I got in the shower and relished in the warmth the water provided as it ran down my body. My injuries stung for a few seconds, but it eventually subsided into nothingness as my body grew used to the temperature. I took my time washing myself, my hair, letting my thoughts roam in the meantime.

What could I do to get Nathan to forgive me? Give him flowers and ask directly? Take him to dinner? Buy him an apology gift? All of the ideas sounded cheesy and overused, probably because it was. Frustration filled me. Whatever I thought up seemed empty and unpromising.

I felt like typing 'How to make someone stop hating you' in the internet search bar and see what pops up.

It seemed like a good start at least, to give me something to go with. Kind of pathetic really, but whatever, I'll take what I can get.

I finished up in the shower, got out and dried myself, then put on my clothes and headed downstairs, knowing dinner would be soon.

As I walked down the stairs I noticed that my father's dress shoes were by the door, meaning that he was home. I slowed my descent, not really wanting to continue on but knowing I'd have to face him anyways sooner or later. Better it be sooner than later.

I walked down the remaining steps and made my way to the kitchen, seeing my mom stirring something in a large pot. From the smell of it, I guessed today we were having pasta for dinner, spaghetti specifically. My favorite. My stomach growled with hunger, gaining my mother undivided attention.

"Foods almost ready," she informed me, but I already knew that. "Can you go get your farther, he should be in his study," she said and turned her back to me, expecting me to carry out her request.

I grumbled under my breath but did as she asked. I walked over to the stairs, stared up them, then shouted, "Dad, dinner time."

"Aiden," I could hear my mother scold me from the kitchen and I grinned.

"Be there in a second," he yelled back in his gruff voice and I strolled back over to the kitchen to find my mother scowling at me.

"He's coming," I informed her and she rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile ghosted over her face.

"Go set the table," she said and started piling food on plates.

I smiled and rummaged through the cabinet drawers for placemats, then utensils and napkins. After gathering all that I went into the dining room and set the table, finishing in less than a minute.

By the time I was done father was stomping down the stair and to our general direction. He appeared soon after and took his seat at the head of the table. Not once did he glance at me, or even greet me as he passed.

"Nice to see you too, father," I said sarcastically and then he finally did look at me, and from what I could tell, he didn't like what he saw.

"Fighting again, I see," he commented none to politely.

I stiffened. "None of your business," I snapped and father looked about ready to beat me to a pulp.

It was stupid of me to provoke my father like so, especially know that he had a hard time controlling his temper, I should know, I did too. And even though he had taken vows with god not to go down the path of an abuser anymore, he had only done so a few years ago. There was no telling how long it would last, he could return to how he was at a moment's notice. The last thing I needed to do was give him a reason to do so.

Luckily for me, mother came out with plates full of food and set them on each placemat.

"Time to eat," she said, an edge to her voice. She looked nervously between my father and I, feeling the tension between us, before taking her place at the table next to my father.

"Aiden, sit," she commanded when I continued to stand there, eyes locked with my fathers in a heated battle.

Slowly, but surly, I took a seat at the other end of the table, right across my father. I grabbed my fork and dug into my food silently, a frown on my face.

I was halfway through my food when I decided to do something stupid. A test of some sort, though the results would probably be within my expectations.

"Father, what is your opinion on gay people?" I asked, making my mom gasp in shock, and studied my father for his reaction.

He stiffened and clenched his hand around his fork, the other fisted. He glanced sharply up at me and I stared at him unflinchingly.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, narrowing his eyes on me.

I knew I would have to tread carefully now so as to not rouse any suspicions, but it was going to be hard.

"Just curious," I replied with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal if he answered or not. I hope I succeeded.

He was silent for a long while, seeming to debate whether or not to answer. Finally he did. "It's just plain wrong. A man should only be with a woman. Anyone who does not follow that will burn in hell."

I knew I wouldn't be pleased with the answer.

"But why does it matter, love is love. And, for your information, the Bible doesn't even oppose of gays. God loves all his children, no matter what," I reasoned angrily, hating my father even more so because of his harsh words.

"Enough!" He slammed his hands down on the table with a hard smack that made both me and mom flinch in fear. "I will not discuss this anymore at my table. Why does it matter anyways?"

I hated that he could still intimidate me to this day, even when I was older and able to defend myself now. I shook the cowardly feelings away and straightened up, squaring my shoulders, feeling a burst of intense rage go through me from his words.

"Why does it matter? Well, it matters because-" I paused, horror stricken. I had almost said, 'because I'm gay too', but had managed to stop myself from doing so in time.

"Because what?" My father asked, a warning in his voice.

"Never mind," I mumbled and stared down at the table, my hands clenched into fists. I tried to calm down my unexpected anger, but it proved to be a difficult task.

That had been too close of a call. I have to be careful from now on, I thought, seeing suspicion in my father's eyes when I glanced up at him.

"Honey, how was work today?" My mother asked, trying to divert my father's attention to another topic less... emotional.

It worked.

My father relaxed and went back to eating his food, answering between swallows. However, I wasn't in the mood to eat anymore, my appetite having disappeared on me.

"May I be excused from the table?" I asked calmly.

My mother's eyebrows shot up past her hairline. "But you've hardly eaten anything!"

"I'm not really hungry," I grumbled and mother frowned in concern.

"I guess, but if you get hungry later on tonight there will be leftovers in the fridge," she said.

I nodded my head in acknowledgment, then stood up and left the table, feeling my father's burning gaze following after me the whole way.

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Sooo, how did you like the chapter? Don't you all just hate Aiden's father, I know I do, he's such an asshole?

Anywhore, V/C/F.

Until next time, peace out.

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