You Can't Choose (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Seven

The second Cole walked through the front door after being dropped off by Sarah, he was enveloped by his mother. "Collier!" She said, her hand holding the back of his head, forcing his face into her shoulder. "I was so worried about you! Why didn't you answer your phone?!"

"It died". Collier had left everything at his mom's house the night before, including his phone charger.

"Collier, I was so worried-"

"That I wouldn't be home in time to help your new boyfriend move in, right?" Collier asked, not bothering to hide the bitterness from his voice. His mother sighed and grasped his shoulders, pushing him back so she could look at his eyes.

"I was worried about your safety, Cole. You were walking outside as it got dark. You could've gotten hurt-"

"I'm fine, mom," Cole assured, pushing his mom's arms off of him and moving around her to look into the living room. Everything seemed the same. "They're not here yet?"

"No dear," his mom said, "Ronald's son is your age. He's waiting for him to come home from school before heading over here with the moving truck". 

"Alright," Collier grumbled, turning towards the stairs then and moving to go up then.

"Where are you going?" His mom asked quickly, "we'll need your hel-"

"Call me when you need me," he interrupted before taking the stairs two at a time to get away faster.

Collier wasn't really sure why he had come home. Sure, he was foolishly hoping that his mother would see his act of kindness and not try to force him into a new family, but he understood that when his mother wanted something, she wouldn't just let it go. This was something he knew about her. If she wanted them to be a family, she would do everything in her power to force them together.

The truth was, Cole easily could have asked Sarah to drop him off at his dad's house, giving her some simple lie about how it was a new friend's house so she wouldn't know what was going on with his parents until they could speak alone. It was something he had even thought about, but Collier hadn't asked to go to his father's house, because he didn't want to go there.

He had come home, because that's where he wanted to be, standing there, in his bedroom looking out of the window and waiting for his new housemates to arrive.

And that's when Collier realized he was actually curious about these people. How could he not be though? They would be sleeping down the hall from him, eating at the same table as him. Living in the house he had grown up in.

But being curious didn't mean he cared— or so he told himself— so Cole stepped back to direct his focus to his easel.

He was still working on the sunset picture he had began four days ago, though it felt like a lifetime. It was nearly finished, since he had spent Sunday protesting his father leaving by locking himself in his room as his parents packed.

The painting was perfect, exactly how he wanted it; the sky was a wonderful butterscotch and the sand caramel. It looked exactly how he remembered it. 

All he had to do to finish it was add a little more texture to the sand, which took a lot less time than Collier was hopping. Not more than five minutes, he was guessing as he removed the painting from his easel and set up a blank canvas to begin another one.

Since he had planned to finish his sunset painting after school, Cole had spent his entire drawing class sketching out something for his next painting; and no, it was not Henry Stone, though ever since he had thrown the first drawing away, he was itching to start another one, despite his promise to himself.