Tell Me You Love Me: A Stand-alone | Young Adult MM Romance

Chapter 4

• Photo above is how I picture Wesley •

Chapter 4

[ Grayson Thomas's POV: ]

Shame. Shame is the only feeling I feel after  spending the last hour in the Principal's Office, reeling over my own actions. My punishment was officially set into stone. I'm suspended.

Mrs. Chadwick, our Principal, had thankfully convinced his parents not to press charges, which I'm grateful for, if I ever wanted out of this place with a chance to at least make something of myself.

"Does your Dad know?" Stephen asks from beside me. We're standing out in the empty hallway together, waiting for my parents to arrive to sign whatever documents Mrs. Chadwick had.

I nod. "Yeah..." I reply, trailing off. My gaze falls down to my bruised hand. I grimace just looking at it.

"Jesus, Gray... you really hit that kid hard, didn't you?" My best friend spoke again. I close my eyes, nodding my head in response, not trusting my words right now.

I feel really guilty for what I did. The kid, who's name I didn't even know, didn't deserve what he got. I let my own emotions dictate my actions, just like my Father did. I couldn't help but wonder if I was turning into the old man. Like Father, like Son.

I let my thoughts drift away as Stephen nudged my side. I opened my eyes to see my parents making their way up the hallway.

I lock eyes with my Father, who looked his normal self. Pissed off at the world.

My Mother's heels click against the tiled floors. Father's hand was grasped tightly in hers as they stalked towards where I am standing.

Stephen gives me a look of concern as he pushes himself off of the wall, bidding me farewell with only his eyes as he heads onto his next class. I release a sigh in contempt.

"Grayson Elijah Thomas," my Father's voice booms in the hallway, "you should be ashamed of yourself," my Mother speaks up.

Believe me, I am, I think to myself.

"Grayson, the best thing you can do right now is wait in the car for your Mother and I," my Father says, his voice as cold as the look in his eyes that he's currently giving me.

I open my mouth to ask about my car, but Dad raises his hand, silencing me from speaking. "Give Carson your car keys. You won't be needing them for a while," he says, in a deadpan tone.

I want to object instantly. But I say nothing and just nod my head like the obedient son that I always end up being. My shoulders sag in defeat as I turn on my heel and head for the front doors of the school. As I make my way out into the parking lot, I spot Carson, my Dad's best friend, leaning up against my Dad's black Toyota Tundra, his arms crossed across his chest as he speaks to someone on the phone.

He quickly spots me and bids goodbye to whoever he was talking to and hangs up his phone, shoving it into his pocket.

"Boy, what trouble have you gotten yourself into now?" Carson asks, a hint of sarcasm playing in his voice. I roll my eyes, reaching in my pocket and handing over my keys, which he accepts.