Cole.

13. A Father Figure

A/N: As promised, here is the Wednesday Update! Vote, comment, enjoy :3

I stepped back a few feet, feeling the stare of the lifeless black eyes on the bear watching my every move. I was trying to remember what they taught me in Boy Scouts, but my mind was just focusing on the threat standing in front of me. It had to be at least two thousand pounds and the teeth on it looked awfully sharp. I didn’t want to be its next attack; I really didn’t want to be mulled by this black bear.

My mind finally found the catalogued information stored in my brain, when you have a bear in your sights, make as much noise as you can. Well, that didn’t make any sense, but hey; I was about to me mulled, might as well use the tools I have right?

I started stomping my feet, making loud noises with my mouth. I was yelling profanities as loud as I could. Yes, I was yelling profanities at an animal. I as trying to scare it as best as I could, but I really couldn’t do much and I knew in one swift move, I would be food to this best.

I heard noises from behind me, looking over my shoulder for a quick second I saw Cole banging a pot on the metal poles holding the table cloth on. He was yelling as well, making all kinds of weird noises. I’m not going to lie to you when I saw it actually made him slightly more attractive. I bit my lip as I continued to make my way back to him; hopefully fending off the bear would come soon because my heart really couldn’t handle the stress anymore.

The bear finally relented and walked away, trotting back into the forest it came from. I deeply sighed, wiping the sweat that had cascaded on my forehead from the whole experience. I turned to Cole and was slightly crying, “Please take me home.”

I got into the car, shaking slightly. I just wanted to be wrapped up in a warm blanket and cuddling my big stuffed dog. He would love me until I felt better, which at this rate would take a while. Cole was upset with me, I could read his emotions like an open book and I knew he was mad I wouldn’t let him make out with me. The car ride was getting awkward and we still had an hour drive, I should have walked. I would have made in back in time for the five oclock news. At night, without a job in sight.

I sighed, thinking about our little fight and what it all meant. Where did this hatred for physical contact come from? Even with Ben I was always distant, I never wanted to be hugged or touched. I didn’t like sex at all either and it took me three months to even get the courage to blow him. That’s not what a relationship is about, so why was I like this. In reality, I knew exactly why I was the way I was, it stems back from the relationship with my father, who I haven’t talked to in almost six years, which makes my mother act happy when she talks to me, but I know she really wants to just ask me why I won’t talk to him anymore, why I won’t give him the time of day. It’s complicated, but the memories drift back into my head as I remember that fateful day when I finally left the house and moved away.

Flashback to June, 2007

“Don’t you have a girlfriend yet, son? Why are you so uptight every time I bring this up?” He looked at me with those dark blue eyes, trying to read the emotions flashing through my mind a million miles a minute. “You can tell me anything, I won’t be mad at you. Do you have a girlfriend you don’t want me to meet? Do you have some fucked up disease that makes you immune to the charms of girls? Or are you gay, is that the reason? Is my son gay?”

I winced as he turned around, he never used to hit me until lately, and when he found out I still didn’t have a girlfriend. The thought of how his father would do if he found out he was gay consumed every thought of every moment. He could never tell him, he could never let that secret out. I could never let the true me be seen, I had to hide it from him.