Breeze (The Mighty Queertet: Story 3)

Chapter 5: Angry Updraft by Star

Portman’s POV
I wake up early. I always do in new places. The first week at Eden Hall was the only time I’ve ever woken up on time for practice. After I get used to a place I can sleep for days.

Fulton’s asleep in my arms and shows no sign of waking. I stroke his hair and he smiles in his sleep. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen that smile. He’s not happy, he hasn’t been for a long time.

He won’t talk to anyone but me—and he barely talks to me about what’s going through his mind. I keep asking him if he’d consider telling someone, like Bombay or even possibly Orion, but he won’t. It’s not like they don’t already know he’s gay, I know that’s not really the point, but it would make telling them a lot easier.

I decide to head downstairs and find something to drink. If I stay up here I’ll just fidget and wake him up.

I find Taz and Charlie asleep on the couch, MTV is playing faintly in the background. Maybe I should wake them up. I know if I was Maya or Adam I wouldn’t want to see them curled up together.

What a wonderful way to mend the rift. Don’t apologize for spending time with someone else, spend more time with that someone else.

I know they’re friends, and they both love Adam and Maya respectively, but they seem to forget their other halves when they’re together.

And I know I wouldn’t like to see Fulton with his arms around someone else so tightly that you couldn’t slide a credit card between them.

As I’m debating what to knock over to wake them, Charlie stretches and yawns, knocking Taz off the edge of the couch in the process. She hits the floor with a thump but continues sleeping. Charlie looks at her in mild amusement, then realizes I’m in the room.

He gets up, stepping carefully over Taz and walks over to me. “We didn’t think we’d be popular if we went back to our rooms,” he explains groggily.

“Guilty conscience, Charlie?” I ask. “Because you gave me an excuse before I even asked.”

“You too?” he says, with a note of resignation.

“I don’t want to get involved,” I tell him. “So, come and help me make a drink, this kitchen has far too many gadgets.”

He sighs and follows me. “Everyone’s overreacting.”

“If that’s true, why are you so defensive?” We’re obviously going to have to talk about this. I love the fact that Charlie is obsessed with how everyone is reacting to him and Taz being friends, but hasn’t even noticed that Fulton hasn’t been himself for months.

He’s known Taz not even half a year, he and Fulton go back over four years.

Ducks fly together?

Yeah, right.

“It’s alright for you, everything’s perfect in your life.” He snaps.

I am really sick of being told that. From Fulton I’ll take it, from Charlie I won’t. Fulton has reason to be bitter, Charlie’s life is pretty damn good and he’s only got himself to blame that Maya and Adam are pissed off at him.

“Charlie, you’re the only reason your life isn’t perfect.” I walk out, deciding to forget about getting myself a drink.

Maybe I’m used to this place now and can sleep for the next ten days.


The Girl, Official stalker of Carla, Tangible Muse and Bod Who Generally Fixes the Mean Nasty Coding That Makes Carla Cry (After Having Broken It In The First Place)

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