Trent's face hardened as the words came out of my mouth. Adam raped me. I thought at first that he was disgusted with me, and so I went to pull my hand back. But Trent wouldn't let me let go. I didn't panic though, because it wasn't forceful, he just gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and gently rubbed his thumb along the back of my hand. Tears continued to fall as Trent processed what I had told him, his face contorted as he felt a range of emotions from anger to confusion to sadness. Then came the questions.

"When? How? Your parents don't know? Do-"

"Trent!" I cut him off before he could keep going. He looked apologetic as he realized he had overwhelmed me with the questions.

"I'm sorry, I just, I'm so angry," a worried expression crossed my face. "No, not at you! At him."

"It s-started when I was l-like 10. It s-stopped when I was 13," I said.

"Gray, that's only like 3 years ago," he said sadly.

"H-he's my Dad's b-best friend. He used to b-babysit me when they went o-out. If I... if I d-didn't do what he said or d-do it fast e-enough or w-well enough, he would do it. He would say 't-this is what h-happens to boys who d-don't listen.'" I was choking back sobs at this point. I had never said these words out loud and doing so made them more real than they ever had been. I never thought I would share my trauma with anyone. This was my burden to bear, and mine alone. Seeing the looks on Trent's face just confirmed to me that I shouldn't have told him. This was too much to put on someone else. He was probably going to leave and never speak to me again. I mean, who would want someone as broken as me? Of course, when I start to care about someone, when I start to connect with them, I ruin it.

"I'm so sorry," Trent's words surprised me. "You know it's not your fault, right Gray?" He asked, which caused the sobs I was holding back to rattle my entire body. I took my hand back, Trent letting go this time, and curled into a fetal position, burying my head in my lap as I sobbed. He just sat with me and let me sob. He wasn't trying to make me feel better or erase the pain I was feeling. I had finally stopped crying, but I still couldn't bring myself to look up at Trent. "Grayson? Please look at me?" Through teary eyes I looked up him, my hazel eyes meeting his green ones.

"I've n-never told anyone b-before." Trent's face shifted, a look of realization flashed across his face, and then turned to one of sadness and hurt.

"Thank you for telling me." Again, I started to fight tears. All these years I imagined what would happen if I told my story. All scenarios ended in them leaving me, disgusted by what I had brought upon myself. It was hard to hear Trent's words because I didn't believe them myself. Of course, it was my fault. I didn't listen to Adam, I didn't get him his beer when he asked, I fucked up cooking dinner, whatever the case was. I did these things that made this monster hurt me. Yes, he was a monster, but I should have been better at making sure it didn't happen. How could anything else be true? "I know you probably don't believe me, hell, if you were to tell me the same thing I don't know if I would believe you. But I'm telling you, as someone outside of the situation, it is not your fault. You were just a kid, hell, you still are. He is a grown man. There is no universe where any of what he did to you is your fault."

"I w-want to believe you," I stuttered.

"You don't have to, not yet. But you will someday."

"Thank you," I managed to say through more tears.

"For what?"

"Being so u-understanding."

"Of course, you can tell me anything, and I will never judge you or think differently of you because of it." He smiled gently at me and I felt so comforted. "Can I ask you something?" I nodded. "What made you tell me this now?"

"H-he's coming to visit next week, and I don't th-think I can handle it." I saw the anger rise in his face as I spoke.

"Is he... is he staying here?" he asked through gritted teeth. I nodded. "You're not staying here then, I'll sneak you into my house, or we can crash at Brayden's for the week you just cannot stay in the same house with that piece of shit," he spat. I jumped as he raised his voice and moved further away from him. "I'm sorry, I just don't want you to have to deal with that. I also don't want him to hurt you, I would never forgive myself if that happened."

"It's n-not your job to p-protect me."

"Since when is protecting my boyfriend not my job?" He asked, causing me to blush.

"B-boyfriend?" I asked, brows furrowed.

"Only if you want to be."

"Of course I do." I wanted to hug him, or kiss him, that's what boyfriends did right? That was probably what he was expecting, what he wanted. But I looked into his eyes and he was more than happy just sitting there with me. There was no expectant look in his eyes, he made no movement closer to me. He just sat and smiled, and I beamed right back at him.

"You know, my dad used to hit my mom, before she died. She never told me, never told anyone, but I saw. It's what killed her, Gray." He didn't have to say anything after that. I knew what he meant. That these secrets, secrets of abuse, could kill a person. I knew that he was right. If Adam never killed me, I would be the death of myself. But I couldn't do anything about it. So much time had passed that there wouldn't be any proof, and he'd spin the lie that I was just a kid and was confused and making things up. Mom and Dad would probably believe him because what reason would they have not to? I just had to deal with him for a week. I could do that. I was older now; things would probably be different.

I managed to get through the rest of the week at school without Trent. Brayden escorted me around the building, warding off Kyle and his gang of loyal followers. I tried my best to just focus on my classes and schoolwork, rather than think about Adam coming on Sunday. Brayden and Nat were officially dating, or at least I think they were? They held hands in the halls, kissed almost the entire lunch period, and were constantly texting when they weren't together. I was happy for them, Brayden was a good guy and Nat seemed really happy. Trent still drove me to school and took me home the rest of the week. Though we had been dating for a few days we still hadn't really done more than hold hands. Trent acted like he didn't mind, but I knew deep down he did. I felt bad, and I tried to tell him he should find someone normal. He just responded that he didn't want someone normal.

Sunday came sooner than I would have liked, and I knew that by the time I woke up Sunday morning my parents would be gone to get Adam from the airport. Without giving away too many details, Trent made an arrangement with Brayden that I could go to his house any time this week if I needed to. His address was saved in my phone and he had given me a spare key to his apartment for the week. I found out that Brayden lived by himself. He was in the foster care system since he was a baby, and at 16 he got emancipated, and child protective services got him hooked up with a job and an affordable apartment. I wondered why Trent never went to live with him, but I decided not to ask.

I woke up Sunday morning to a text from Trent; "Good morning gorgeous, it's only like 8 a.m. but I'm parked outside of your house, I needed to get out of mine and I wanted to make sure I was here for you, I hope you're having sweet dreams." I smiled at the kissy face emoji at the end of the message. I peeked out my window and sure enough I could see Trent's large Ford F-150 parked outside. I smiled to myself as I got my things together to shower. I had about two hours until my parents got home with Adam. I had asked Trent to be there, if he could behave, and he promised me he would. I was glad he was here so early; I would have time for him to talk me down from my panic attacks.

I tried to wash away the memories of my nightmares as I showered to no avail. They were so vivid that I felt everything and could still feel it as I scrubbed myself clean, but somehow not clean enough. When I was out of the bathroom, I texted Trent and asked him to come to the door. When the doorbell rang, I anxiously swung it opened and instantly calmed a bit at the sight of Trent's face. His emerald eyes met mine and I smiled slightly, but he wasn't smiling back. His brows were furrowed, he had bags under his eyes, and full pink lips were turned down in a frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You look like shit," was his response.

"Gee, thanks," I scoffed.

"No, I mean, you look like you didn't get any sleep, you look terrified," he explained as he stepped into the house.

"I had nightmares all night, and I am terrified, but you being here is helping." Over the last few days I had gotten pretty comfortable with Trent, to the point where I barely stuttered around him anymore. It was nice to be that comfortable around another person who wasn't my parents or Nat. Despite the things I knew about him, the things that made me so nervous to be around him in the beginning, all he had showed me was kindness. I had no reason not to trust him, and I so badly wanted to, so I just did. In the back of my mind I was constantly afraid it would bite me in the ass, but it was nice to just let loose for once, especially in the midst of all of this bullshit.

"What time are they coming?"

"Noon."

"So we have an hour and a half. Did you have breakfast?" I shook my head no. "Want me to make you breakfast?" I didn't really feel hungry, I was too anxious, but I knew I should eat something before they got here. I nodded and Trent began exploring my kitchen, looking for ingredients, pans, and kitchen utensils to make me breakfast. I had no idea what he was making, and I wasn't about to ask. I just sat at the kitchen island and watched him. After he mixed the ingredients it became clear he was making pancakes, they were my favorite, I think I had only mentioned that to him once. When I saw him sprinkle chocolate chips into the batter on the pan I nearly cried. It was something so simple, it wouldn't be a big deal to someone else, but to me the fact that he remembered my favorite breakfast food was chocolate chip pancakes meant everything. I smiled as he set the stack of pancakes down in front me and put maple syrup on top. "What?" He giggled as he asked.

"You remembered," I said.

"Of course, I remember everything you tell me."

I ate the rest of my breakfast in silence, just realizing how hungry I really was when Trent put the plate down in front of me. Once I finished, he took the plate away and put everything in the dishwasher, or handwashed the things that couldn't go in the dishwasher. I was so impressed that he knew how to cook, and that he cleaned up after himself. For a moment I imagined this was our house, and we were living together just having a lazy Sunday. I smiled at the thought as I watched him clean.

"How did you learn how to cook?" I asked as we sat on my bed waiting for my parents to get home.

"My mom taught me. She was an incredible cook. She had me helping her in the kitchen since before I could see over the counter. I had this little stool she would put at the counter and I would stand on it and help her make tamales or pozole. Dad hated when I cooked with her, he thought it would turn me into a queer. Maybe he was right," he muttered the last part under his breath.

"Y-you know that's not true, right?"

"I don't know, it could be."

"Trent, whether you like b-boys or girls or all genders, you were b-born that way. No one did anything to m-make you that way."

"How did you know you were gay?"

"Well, I realized that I felt the same way about boys that Nat did. I knew I should be feeling those things about g-girls, but I didn't. For a w-while I didn't want to admit it. I thought it was because of A-Adam. It took me a long time to accept myself."

"I know I definitely still like girls, but I know that I like you too, and I guess I've liked other guys before too, I just didn't want to admit that I did. I guess that makes me like, bi or pan, right?"

"You don't have to label it," I said. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. We just sat staring into each other's eyes for a moment. I appreciated him opening up about his sexuality. I was glad he was willing to talk about how confused he was, I didn't want him to suffer through it alone like I had. It was heartbreaking to hear his theory on why he was queer, but I appreciated that he trusted me, it helped me trust him.

As we sat there, I turned to look at the clock on my nightstand and my eyes widened. It was just after noon. Mom and Dad would be home any minute. I looked at Trent and his face held a sympathetic look, he offered his hand and I took it, grateful he didn't just grab my hand. He encouraged me to take deep breaths and just focus on breathing. I was attempting to do just that when I heard the door open downstairs. I froze completely, they were home.