The new semester started on January 3rd. It felt just plain wrong to walk into the building the first day back knowing that Brian wasn't going to be there. My biggest fear was that I would be put in Mr. Horner's English classes where I had earned a D with him previously, but I was luckily placed with a different teacher. Other than that, it was business as usual back at glorious St. James Academy.

To distract from my shattered heart and almost crippling depression, I threw myself into my schoolwork and part-time job. The drama and book clubs were reassigned to two different teachers, and I quit both clubs since Brian had been the only reason I joined in the first place. I would instead spend my Monday and Thursday evenings at the diner where I had become a server and was earning pretty good tips. I think it had more to do with my looks than my serving ability, but whatever.

I checked the mail one day towards the end of January after coming home from school and found a thick, flat envelope addressed to me from Dartmouth College. I knew before opening it that it had to be my early acceptance letter, since it would be ridiculous for them to send a thick stack of paperwork to rejected applicants.

Sure enough, once I got up to my room and opened the envelope, I discovered that I indeed was accepted to the school. While most students would be thrilled, I felt the exact opposite. I knew when my parents and I toured the campus the previous year and had later applied to Dartmouth that I didn't want to attend the school, but I only applied because my father all but ordered me to.

I stuffed the paperwork back into the envelope and shoved it under my mattress.

The letter I was waiting to receive was an acceptance or rejection from New York University in Manhattan. Even before Brian moved, NYU had been my personal first choice. Manhattan was a great city with tons of opportunities for writers, and the NYU campus was beautiful. Of course now that Brian lived in Manhattan, conveniently in the TriBeCa neighborhood only a stone's throw away from the campus, I hoped I would be accepted there.

My second choice was Carnegie Mellon due to it being located in Pittsburgh and where Daphne wanted to go. I had also applied to Pennsylvania State and the University of Pittsburgh as backups, along with Brown University where my mother had attended and earned a useless degree in Liberal Arts. As recommended by my school counselor, I called to confirm with every school that they had all received my applications, which they did.

As January turned into February, more acceptance packets started arriving. Carnegie Mellon, Penn State, Pitt, and Brown all wanted me. Daphne had also received her acceptance to Carnegie Mellon the same day that I did, and she was absolutely ecstatic.

Finally on the first Friday of March, I found a thick envelope from NYU in the mailbox. I hardly even made it into the foyer before throwing my backpack down on the floor and tearing the big envelope open. I cried tears of joy as I read the acceptance letter and could almost feel Brian's strong arms wrapped around me.

My mother, who was working to earn her realtor's license by that point, was in the kitchen starting on dinner.

"Mom!" I yelled at her, making her jump.

She turned around and saw my excitement. "What happened?"

I held the packet with both hands over my head and shook it. "NYU, Mom! NYU! I got in!"

Mom knew how much I wanted to go to that school, so she was happy for me. "That's great, honey... but you know your father will never pay for you to go there."

I groaned in frustration, the wind suddenly being let out of my sails. "Why do you have to ruin this for me? I've been waiting for this day for months!"

"I'm sorry, but it's a fact," she informed me. "He wants you to go to Dartmouth. I'm surprised that you haven't heard from them by now."

I looked down at the floor. "I did... back in January."

"Why didn't you say anything? You know how much your father-"

"Fuck him!" I yelled. "I don't give a fuck what he wants! It's my life, not his! I am not going to Dartmouth and that's final!"

Mom blinked in disbelief at my language and tone. "Justin..."

I ran up to my room and slammed the door before pulling the Dartmouth packet out from under the mattress. It was childish, but I proceeded to pull the papers out of the envelope and tear them up, grunting like a wild animal as I did it. That helped my anger enough that I was able to sit down at my computer and type out a very polite letter to Dartmouth letting them know that I would not be attending their school during the fall semester. I planned to mail it to them the next day.

Mom knocked on my door an hour later to let me know that dinner was ready. I wanted to brood in my room a little while longer, but I was starving. My appetite was immediately lost when I walked downstairs and discovered that my father, who I had not seen or talked to since Christmas Eve, was sitting on the living room couch with my mother.

"Justin," he said, indicating with a sweep of his arm that he wanted me to sit down on one of the armchairs.

I instead stayed where I was and crossed my arms over my chest. "You just had to call him, didn't you?"

Mom looked at me with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry, honey."

"Your mother informed me that you received early acceptance to Dartmouth, but you say you're not going," Dad calmly stated.

I lifted my chin up. "That is correct."

He smirked before adding, "And you want to go to NYU instead."

"Yes," I confirmed, standing my ground.

My father sighed before standing up and walking over to me.

"Craig..." Mom said quietly, obviously concerned over what he may say or do to me.

I stood eye-to-eye with my father, steeling myself over the inevitable confrontation. I was not going to back down, no matter what.

Dad licked his lips and stated, "Justin, you are going to Dartmouth."

"Oh, really?" I asked in a smart-ass tone. "How exactly do you plan on making me go? I'm eighteen, and you can't tell me what to do anymore."

"Oh yes I damned well can," Dad claimed. "When it's my money paying for it, you will go to the school I tell you to go to."

"His college fund is his to do what he wants, Craig," Mom said.

"You mean the college fund that I have been contributing to his entire life? My money?"

"That money is for Justin," she said, her tone getting tougher.

"There is no fucking money, Jen!" he yelled at her.

Mom's jaw dropped. "What... what do you mean ‘there's no money'? What did you do with it?"

Dad put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I've been borrowing money from Justin and Molly's college funds to pay the bills. The store hasn't been doing very well over the past few years. It's nearly impossible to compete with the chain stores and make a profit. I've been bleeding money since we split, now that I'm paying for two households and for the lawyers."

"How much is left?" she asked.

"Maybe twenty thousand in each."

I had to sit down after hearing that.

Mom huffed out a breath. "Well then, how in the hell did you expect to pay for Justin to go to Dartmouth? One year costs over sixty thousand dollars alone, and it has to be paid in full before he starts in September."

He almost looked ashamed. "I was going to take a second mortgage out on the store and sell this house."

Mom looked up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. "Oh my God, Craig. When were you going to tell me about this? We're still going through divorce proceedings, and you are supposed to keep me and my lawyer informed of financial stuff."

"I know! Do you think I'm proud of this?" Dad asked, his voice cracking.

I looked at my father in disgust. "How could you do this to me? To us?"

Dad came to stand in front of me. "I'm taking care of it, son."

"Oh, bullshit!" Mom yelled. "If you can't afford things how they are now, how are you going to pay another mortgage on the store, one on your new house, and pay for wherever the hell you expect me and Molly to live? You'll still have to pay child support for her, and if you think you're getting out of paying me alimony, you're out of your fucking mind!"

I looked at my mother in surprise, as I had never seen her stand up to my father like that before.

Dad opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he sat back down on the couch.

After several seconds of silence, I decided to speak up. "Well, that's it, then. I guess I'm not going to college anywhere."

"Yes, you are, honey," Mom said to me. "We'll make it work, no matter what we have to do. Hopefully it's not too late to apply for loans and grants. You can go to Pitt or Carnegie Mellon, so we won't have to pay for campus housing."

I shook my head. "No. I'm going to New York, even if I can't go to NYU. Hell, I'll go to a community college there if I have to."

"What is so God damned important in New York?" Dad asked.

I was taken aback, unprepared for having to explain myself in that regard. "Uh... well, you know I want to be a writer, and New York is a writer's haven."

"You've said yourself that Carnegie Mellon has a great English program," Mom pointed out.

"I know, but maybe I can get a job at a magazine or something while I go to school in New York... get my foot in the door," I said, seemingly pulling that thought out of my ass.

Mom looked at me strangely. "Justin?"

I stared back at her. "What?"

"Why do you want to go to New York so badly?"

I started shaking a bit, knowing that I probably couldn't lie my way out of this.

"I know someone who lives there," I quietly answered.

"Who?" Mom asked.

I could feel tears threatening to fall, my hair-trigger emotions overtaking me as they often did. "Do you remember Brian Kinney, my old English teacher?"

"Of course I remember him. You told me that he wasn't at St. James anymore."

I blinked a few times, trying to keep calm. I hadn't seen or spoken to Brian in over two months, and I missed him so much sometimes I could hardly breathe. His absence had only made my feelings for him grow stronger, and my only goal was to graduate from St. James, get my ass to Manhattan even if I had to hitchhike, and throw myself at his mercy... if I could find him. I would probably have to say or do something drastic to pry his new address out of Debbie or Emmett.

"Yeah, he moved to Manhattan over Winter Break."

"So what?" my father asked. "How will he be any help?"

I tried to think of what to say next, but I cracked. I had been doing a good job over the past few months at controlling my sadness from Brian leaving me, but with my parents both looking at me like they were, I lost it.

"Um, he..." I choked out.

"Justin?" my mother repeated, confusion all over her face.

The jig was up.

I grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table, drying the tears that were now freely falling. "We..."

My parents were both alternating between looking at each other and at me.

I squished my face up and closed my eyes. "I want to go to New York to be with him."

"What do you mean ‘to be with him'?" Dad asked.

"Craig," my mother began hesitantly. "Justin is... honey, do you want to tell him?"

I looked at her and then at my father. "I'm gay, Dad."

His mouth slowly dropped open. "You're... what?"

I nodded. "You heard me."

While my father digested that news, my mother asked me, "Are you hoping to pursue some kind of relationship with Mr. Kinney? Is he gay, too?"

I nodded again. "Yeah... but-"

"What did he do to you?" my father suddenly yelled. "Did he touch you?"

As it often did when I cried, my nose started running like a faucet. I sniffled hard and said, "Yes, but only because I wanted him to. He only did what I begged him to do."

"What?" my father yelled, springing up from the couch. "I'm calling the police."

"Why?" I shrieked.

"You just told us that your teacher is a child molester, that's why!" he replied.

"He didn't molest me and I'm not a child!" I informed him. "We didn't have sex until I turned eighteen."

Sure, we did other things before that, but...

"You had sex with your teacher?" my mother asked, the full gravity of the situation hitting her.

"Yes! I love him and he loves me. That's why he quit St. James and moved to New York, so one day we could be together. He didn't want to get fired and lose his teaching license if we got caught."

That was mostly true...

Dad started walking to the phone sitting on one of the end tables, but I jumped up to stop him.

"No, Dad! Please!"

"He's not going to get away with this!"

"That's the last thing we need, for everyone to find out!" Mom said.

"Yeah," I said, almost shocked that she was taking my side. "And he doesn't even teach or live in this state anymore."

"We'll let the FBI take care of him, then," Dad said before picking up the phone.

"No!" I yelled, grabbing Dad's wrist and trying to take the phone from him.

Mom stood up and got between us. "Stop it!"

The three of us struggled, me trying to grab the phone and Mom trying to separate us. Dad got one of his arms free and slapped me hard across my face.

"You son of a bitch!" Mom yelled, launching herself at Dad.

She got in a few slaps of her own before I pulled her off of him. I have no idea why I did that, because I should have let her beat the shit out of him.

Mom and I fell onto the couch.

"Get out!" she screamed at Dad. "Get out of my house, Craig, now!"

Dad had a petrified look on his face, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Who knows what shocked him more - that he had hit me or that Mom had hit him. Either way, there had never been an act of violence committed in our home before. Then again, no one ever questioned or stood up to Dad like that before.

"Get the fuck out of here!" I yelled, holding my trembling mother in my arms.

Dad took a few breaths before turning to leave. Before he walked out the door, he left us with these parting words: "I want this disgusting little pervert out of this house Jennifer, or I will get an emergency order to get full custody of Molly."

Once Dad slammed the door behind him, Mom started sobbing on my shoulder.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she whispered into my ear.

"Yeah," I answered. At least he didn't punch me like in the last fight I had been in.

"How... how did this happen?"

I didn't know exactly which "this" she was referring to, so I didn't even try to answer.

"It's a good thing Molly is out at a slumber party tonight, huh?" I said, in an attempt to find a silver lining.

She started crying even harder after hearing Molly's name, apparently recalling my father's threat.

We sat there together and held each other for a little while. Mom eventually calmed down and pulled away to look at me.

"Your cheek is a little bit pink. I'll get you a cold washcloth."

I followed her into the kitchen and let her nurse my injury. She held the wet cloth to my face, her eyes sparkling in the overhead light.

"Do you think Dad will call the police when he gets home?" I asked.

"I don't know. Like you said, there may not be anything the police can do now. Did you start seeing Mr. Kinney after you and Emmett broke up?"

I sighed. "There was never a ‘Me and Emmett'. We're just friends. I was actually seeing Brian that whole time; any time I said I was going out with Emmett, I was actually with Brian. Emmett and Brian have been friends for a few years."

She thought about that for a moment. "But you said you didn't have sex with him until you were eighteen, and I thought you and Emmett started dating back in November before your birthday."

I figured I may as well tell her everything, leaving out the yucky details. "We did other stuff before that, but not actual sex. The age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen, so we weren't doing anything illegal. Against school policy, sure, but..."

She closed her eyes. "Please tell me that the two of you were safe."

"Of course we were, Mom. Brian would never put me in danger."

"Justin, why did you have to do this with a teacher? Sure, he's really good looking, but..."

I chuckled. "He's amazing, Mom. He's the most brilliant, beautiful, complicated person I've ever met. He intrigues me and infuriates me like no one else ever has. We didn't mean for this to happen... okay, he didn't mean for it to happen, because he fought me every step of the way. I wanted him, and I did everything in my power to get him."

Mom sat the washcloth on the counter. "Wow. You've always been a persistent, hard-headed thing when you want something."

"But now he's gone, and I'm going to do everything I can to get him back. All I want is to be with him, and no man, woman, or Dad is going to stop me."