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Prologue

The last day of senior year in Miss Larson's class looked exactly like the first day of senior year. The same kids sat at the same desks. Stonewashed jeans rolled at the ankles, and feathered hair marked every guy the same. The girls had bright, baggy T-shirts that covered high-waisted jeans. No one distinguished themselves from everyone else, including Jaron McAllister. Different wouldn't bode well. He had already proven himself quite different on the inside, and everyone knew it.

The anticipation at getting to the end of the year jumped around in his gut, creating butterflies as he counted down the last twenty minutes of high school. And apparently even his bladder didn't want him to sit there any longer.

The problem with going to the bathroom lay a few seats in front of him. Jackson Bartlett sat forward in his seat, flirting with Miranda Giles.

Miranda used to be his friend, but somewhere around seventh grade that changed. Jaron wasn't sure why, other than Brad Flynn forced Jaron out of the closet that year. Whatever. By the end of the day, neither one of them would ever have to see each other again. Well, they both lived in the same small town where everyone knew each other. They were bound to see one another from time to time. He planned on packing up and leaving town at some point after the graduation ceremony anyway.

Jaron raised his hand.

"Yes, Jaron." Miss Larson smiled as she met his gaze. She had a red ink pen in her left hand. As teachers went, she wasn't the old fuddy-duddy type. She had been a new teacher in their school at the beginning of the year. By the end, all the kids liked her because she gave them cool books to read and didn't yell. She wasn't that much older than Jaron. Maybe five years or so. All the straight guys liked her because she was pretty. She had auburn-colored hair that hung in soft curls around her face.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" God, Jaron had to pee so bad his lower abdomen hurt.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Jackson mocked like a second-grader.

Everyone in the classroom laughed, except Jaron.

He tensed and glared at both Jackson and Miranda.

Jackson gave him the finger.

Miss Larson gave Jackson a look that made him lower his finger. When she turned her gaze onto Jaron, she smiled. "Go ahead, Jaron."

"Thank you," he said and made his way between the rows of desks. He had no choice but to pass by Jackson and Miranda because they sat in the aisle ahead of him.

"Fucking faggot."

Jaron was pretty sure Miranda sent that one his way.

"At least I'm not making my way through the entire basketball team, Miranda." Not that rumors told a true picture of events, but half-truths told part of the story. The half that held the truth had to do with Travis Heath. Everyone knew he made his way around the school, too. It seemed likely the two would come together at least once.

Sleeping with Travis wasn't why he threw that in her face. She wasn't a slut for sleeping with a bunch of guys. Or if she was a slut than Travis Heath was a giant one too. Jaron didn't think others should slap that label on anyone or judge someone else's choices.

No, the only reason he said anything was because she mentioned his sexuality as if it were a bad thing. Jaron was gay. So what? And he wanted her to understand that judging hurt, although his teaching method was childish.

Living anywhere else but in Pickleville would make his life so much easier.

The halls were almost empty. A girl stood at her locker, pulling out a book. Whatever book she read held her complete attention. Another girl walked ahead of him. She went through a door on the right into the girl's bathroom. The boys' bathrooms stood next to it.

Some of the lockers had numbers painted in green glitter with an athlete's name underneath. Pickleville was a small town, so the same kids who played football also played basketball. At the last pep assembly, the principal called the athletic kids well-rounded, but they didn't get scholarships to college because they were good enough to make the Pickleville teams.

The second Jaron pushed the bathroom door open and saw Brad Flynn standing at the sink washing his hands, Jaron wanted to turn and leave. He hesitated in the doorway when Brad sneered at him.

He almost left, but then he heard Travis Heath hum something and didn't want to look like a scared loser in front of the hottest guy in school, not that Travis even gave him one ounce of attention.

He shored up his courage and tried to ignore the way his heart rate picked up enough that he heard it in his brain.

The door swung shut behind him.

The stalls and urinals took up the left side of the room. A small school meant only two urinals and Jaron wasn't using the one beside Travis. No way would he give either one of the boy's ammunition. He headed for the farthest stall instead.

Neither boy said anything.

Travis didn't even look his way as he finished at the urinal.

Brad, on the other hand, watched him in the mirror.

Jaron could feel that gaze trail him like a stalker.

The sinks were on the opposite side, and Brad stood at the last one which was closer to the end stall. That was the one Jaron intended to go for because the wall was on one side and that made him feel less exposed.

Brad got to the stall before Jaron. He smirked as he held the stall door open. Jaron stopped, his body stiffening. "Go ahead."

Jaron shook his head and put his hands into his pockets.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Brad made it seem as if Jaron was ridiculous for thinking otherwise.

Jaron would have left and just forgotten about using the bathroom until after he got home or used the one over by the gym. But Travis turned, giving him a smile when he crossed to the sinks.

Jaron smiled back.

He tried to relax, but he could still feel his shoulders up near his ears and knew he probably seemed like a scared nerd, which summed him up well.

Brad's smile fell the closer Jaron got, but didn't fully disappear until he straddled the line between inside the stall and out. The stall door slammed into him, the lock mechanism digging into his side, tearing his shirt and probably making him bleed, but he couldn't feel anything past the adrenaline.

Jaron tried to catch himself before falling into the stall divider, but his face landed against the edge. The impact sent him backward when he bounced off the stall divider. He landed on his ass with a cry.

Brad laughed. The sound echoed off the concrete walls.

Jaron shoved himself next to the outer wall and the front of the stall, pulling his legs up to his chest. He stiffened when Travis closed the distance in two long strides. He scowled as he met Jaron's gaze.

Jaron scrambled even closer to the front of the stall, shoving himself in the closest corner.

As soon as he did that Travis darted his gaze to Brad. Both boys had been friends for a long time, and it showed in the silent way they had a conversation.

"He had an accident." Brad smiled.

Travis reached a hand down to Jaron. He hesitated to take it, not wanting to trust it for the kind gesture it seemed. As soon as he did, they'd hurt him some more. Still, the beat down would prove worse if he didn't.

Jaron took it. Travis pulled him to his feet but let go of his hand immediately. "Is that true?"

Jaron nodded, not wanting to make waves on the last day of senior years.

Travis didn't look as if he believed it, but he took a step back. "Well, be more careful. You could hurt yourself."

Both boys turned to leave. Brad pulled a small bottle of liquor out of his jeans pocket. The bottle probably only held a couple of ounces. Brad held it out to Travis. "Took it from my dad after he passed out last night. Want a swig."

"Nah. I gotta help Leonard in the cow barn after school. Can't have alcohol on my breath. He'll know and tell my dad."

Brad shrugged and took a sip.

Jaron went over to the sink and tried to clean up as best as he could. His shirt had blood on the side. As soon as he saw the gash, it began to throb. Funny how getting a visual was the thing that started him on the trail of pain. "Shit."

Brian came barreling in a second later. "Gina told James that Brad Flynn was in here with you."

Jaron put his shirt down and turned on the faucet, washing his hands. "I'm fine."

Brian gave him the once over, assessing him. He put Jaron in the fine category, coming over to him and put a hand on his back. "You still thinking of leaving after the graduation ceremony?"

Jaron nodded. Physically, he was fine with a little cut that would heal in a couple of days. Mentally, he felt jumpy and ready to run as far as his legs could take him like a trapped rabbit. "Pickleville sucks." The little bathroom incident only proved that point.

Brian looked away, his hand disappearing. "We could get an apartment together. My dad would help us. You know he doesn't care that I'm gay. He wouldn't care if I had a boyfriend." At the last sentence, Brian averted his gaze.

"I just…I need out." Jaron turned away from the sink and headed out into the hallway with Brian beside him.

"I'll come out, too." Brian whispering so no one else could hear, told Jaron the real truth. No one wanted to get bullied, including Brian. Just because high school had finished, didn't mean that would change.

"It's not really about that." Or it wasn't all about that. "I just don't want to be here anymore." He wanted…freedom. He needed to see what was out there.

"It's not gonna be the grand adventure you think. And what if I need you. Did you ever think of that?" Brian's tone had turned from pleading to angry as if he were figuring out he couldn't hold Jaron down. If Brian had his way, he'd strap Jaron to the visitor's sign at the edge of town and keep him there forever.

Jaron didn't respond. If he said anything back, he might get sucked into Brian's needs, and Jaron couldn't let that happen. He was none of the things Brian needed. Brian hadn't realized that yet. "Maybe you're supposed to come with me. Did you ever think of that?"

"My dad has a job for me after college. It's all set up." Brian's dad owned an accounting firm. His dad fully expected Brian to take over when the time came, and Brian wanted the same thing. Jaron wished his own mom gave a shit half as much as Brian's dad did. He was a great father who would move heaven and earth for his son, including sending him to the best university possible and providing him with a job after.

Something bigger than Pickleville waited for Jaron. He just had to go out and find it. If he stayed, he would end up an angry, resentful old man. Worse of all, it would be Brian he resented most. And Brian was his only friend.

When he made his way outside, he found his mother waiting for him in the long line of parents. He waved goodbye to Brian and hopped in the car. "I could have walked."

"I have to work in thirty minutes." Nothing about that explanation made sense as to whether he walked or not.

Jaron sighed and nodded even as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

"Gotta work all weekend. I'm staying with Nancy in between." Nancy lived right across the street from the factory. Mom always stayed there when they had mandatory overtime. "You can have the car. Just drop me off."

Right. So she only came so she could ditch him. It wasn't a last day of senior year, so I won't make you walk home type of thing.

"Okay."

"You want grocery money?"

"Nope."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, Mom." He was always on his own, so what difference did it make? "Last day was today."

Mom made a noncommittal response as she pulled out onto the road. "You'll have to tell me about your day on Monday."

"By then it won't matter." Jaron looked out of the window as she drove down Main Street.

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