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MidReal Story
I Am Okay
Scenario:this story is in london england a story about lgbtqia and sex and pride and identity and queer and parties and school and drug addiction and snitching and dating and friendships and lust and rumors and lies and and loyalty and fights and popularity and drama and sad moments and family and overdose and love and sex and nudity and my name is mohamed abdi and i am 16 years old and i have dark skin and i am muscular and i am a drug addict and my parents layla and abdinur abdi are 41 and 38 years old and my sister munira abdi is 15 years old and my father are a rich lawyer and my mother is a lifestyle therapist and i restarted my sixth form at the fictional Westmere School after 7 months returning home from a stay at a rehabilitation center for drug and alcohol addiction when i overdosed on drugs and i have my best and loving friends from school and their names are luca green and he is 16 years old and he is cool and he smokes cigarettes and lily evans and she is 16 years old and lucas girlfriend and my lesbian best friend clara johnson and we are a super close and loyal quartet we are linked and intertwined and we always have fun and hang out and lucy edwards the popular girl who wants to hang out with us and she is 16 years old and this is my story and this story is named i am okay
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Mohamed Abdi
He is a 16yearold student in London,England. He is resilient,rebellious,and introspective. Mohamed struggles with his parents' divorce and their disapproval of his lifestyle. He has a closeknit group of friends,including Luca,Lily,and Clara. Mohamed is determined to fit in and have fun,leading him to attend parties and events with his friends. Despite facing family concerns and personal challenges,Mohamed remains determined to enjoy his youth and find his own identity.
Abdinur Abdi
He is Mohamed's father and a 38yearold lawyer in London. He is authoritative,pragmatic,yet emotionally distant. Abdinur coowns a successful law firm with friends but finds it challenging to balance work life after his divorce. He disapproves of some of Mohamed's choices but tries to reason with him after incidents like the overdose. Abdinur values stability for himself but struggles to provide it for Mohamed.
Clara Johnson
She is Mohamed's best female friend and an 16yearold student at Westmere School. She is outspoken,loyal,and protective. Clara has been best friends with Mohamed since primary school and remains a steadfast support throughout his struggles. She enjoys spending time with the group in Westmere Park and stands up for Mohamed when she perceives threats to his safety,such as when Lucy Edwards spreads rumors about him.
I was born in a beautiful summer on the 12th of August 2007 in London, England.
My parents were rich and my father was a lawyer and my mother was a lifestyle therapist.
They co-owned a law firm with another couple who were also lawyers.
My father's name is Abdinur Abdi and he is 38 years old.
My mother's name is Layla Abdi and she is 41 years old.
I have a little sister named Munira Abdi and she is 15 years old, four years younger than me.
I am Mohamed Abdi and I am 16 years old.
I am a student in Westmere School in London.
I have dark skin and I am muscular, tall, and handsome.
As I drive home with my father, he tells me that not only my sister and mother are waiting for me, but also a crowd of people.
I ask him who they are and he tells me that they are my uncles, aunts, and cousins.
When we arrive at home, I see that the living room is full of people.
My uncles and aunts are sitting on the couches while my cousins are standing around them.
They all look at me with concern in their eyes.
I see Luca and Lily standing near the window holding hands and Clara leaning against the wall with a blank expression on her face.
I walk towards Clara and she looks up at me.
Instead of anger, I nod my head at her as if to say "thank you" for telling everyone about my drug addiction.
I sit down on the leather sofa between my parents, and everyone's eyes are on me.
Clara is the first to break the silence.
She takes a few steps forward and fidgets with her bracelet.
"Welcome back, Mohamed," she says softly.
Luca and Lily join her, forming a semicircle around me.
Luca reaches out to squeeze my shoulder while Lily wipes away tears from her eyes.
"We saved your spot at lunch," Luca says, trying to sound casual.
"Sixth form starts next week."
My mother tenses beside me, but I keep my eyes fixed on my friends' faces.
"Thanks," I manage to say, my voice scratchy.
"I missed you guys."
My legs feel shaky as I push myself up from the sofa, ignoring my mother's attempt to grab my arm.
The room falls completely silent as I take three steps toward Clara.
She watches me with tears forming in her eyes.
Behind her, my uncle Ahmed shifts uncomfortably on the couch, and Aunt Faduma whispers something to my cousin.
I wrap my arms around Clara's shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug.
She squeezes back just as hard, her tears now dampening my shirt.
"I'm sorry," she whispers against my shoulder, so quietly only I can hear.
After the hug, we head outside for a walk through the neighborhood.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the manicured gardens and brick houses.
Luca lights a cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the air as we stroll.
He tells us about a house party he and Lily went to, where they first hooked up in a bedroom upstairs while everyone else was drinking in the living room.
Clara chimes in with her own story about making out with a girl from another school at a bonfire party on the beach.
They both laugh as they describe how they tried to sneak around without their parents noticing.
I keep my hands stuffed in my pockets, staying quiet as they swap stories about parties and makeout sessions.
When Lily turns to me and asks if I've ever hooked up with anyone, I mumble something about focusing on my recovery.
Luca flicks ash from his cigarette and glances at me sideways.
"You know, Mohamed, you don't have to do this alone," he says, his voice sincere.
Clara nods in agreement, her eyes still red from crying. "We're here for you, no matter what."
We stop at Westmere Park and sit in a circle on the damp grass.
The setting sun casts long shadows across the ground, and I can feel the chill of autumn creeping into the air.
Luca takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes fixed on me.
Lily shifts closer to him, her hand resting on his thigh.
Clara sits cross-legged on the grass, her gaze fixed on my face.
I stare down at my hands, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve.
"Remember Lucy Edwards' party last winter?" I start quietly.
Luca's cigarette freezes halfway to his mouth.
Lily looks up at me, her eyes wide with surprise.
Clara frowns slightly - she wasn't there that night.
I take a deep breath and continue.
"I went there already drunk. Someone offered me pills in the bathroom, so I took them. I danced until the room was spinning. And then..."
My voice catches in my throat as I remember waking up in the hospital with tubes down my throat and beeping machines surrounding me.
My father's disappointed face hovering above me.
I stare at my hands, picking at the thread on my sleeve.
The words feel stuck in my throat, but I need them to understand.
"I snuck more pills from Lucy's brother," I continue quietly.
"He had a stash in his room. I took some and left the party early."
I pause, taking a deep breath.
"After that night, I started buying cocaine and weed from dealers at school. I'd smoke during lunch breaks or after class. And then...I found out about heroin."
My voice trembles slightly as I say the word.
Clara reaches up to wipe away a tear that's escaped down her cheek.
Luca takes one last drag from his cigarette and flicks it into the grass before moving closer to me.
His shoulder presses against mine, offering silent support.
"It started with just a few hits here and there," I continue, my voice barely above a whisper.
"But soon I was spending all my lunch breaks getting high in abandoned bathrooms. And then..."
I take another deep breath, bracing myself for the next part of the story.
"And then you found me passed out in the locker room, Clara."
She nods slowly, her eyes filled with tears.
"You called an ambulance, and they rushed me to the hospital."
I can still remember the beeping machines and sterile smell of the hospital room.
The feeling of tubes down my throat and needles in my arms. "I spent seven months in rehab," I continue quietly.
"The first few weeks were hell. Withdrawal symptoms like fever and chills. Therapy sessions every day. And then...it got easier. I started to see things clearly again."
Luca shifts closer to me, his shoulder pressing against mine.
Lily reaches out to touch his arm gently.
Clara watches me with tears streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry," she whispers again, her voice barely audible over the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
"I'm so sorry I didn't know what was going on."
I reach out to touch her hand lightly.
"It's not your fault," I say softly.
"I didn't want anyone to know. But...I'm glad you found me that day."
She nods slowly, her eyes still filled with tears.
We follow the familiar London street until we reach The Bean Spot, our favorite café near Westmere Park.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries wafts through the air as we push open the glass door.
A bell above the entrance jingles merrily, announcing our arrival.
Lily leads the way to our usual corner, where two worn leather couches face each other in a cozy nook.
Before everything happened, we used to spend hours here after school, sipping coffee and chatting about our lives.
Clara orders our usual drinks from the barista behind the counter - my old favorite was a caramel latte, but now I stick to green tea.
Luca sprawls on one of the couches next to me, while Lily and Clara squeeze onto the opposite one.
I cradle the steaming green tea between my palms, watching the liquid swirl as I gather my thoughts.
The café's afternoon crowd provides background chatter - a mix of students and young professionals typing away on their laptops or chatting with friends.
I take a sip of the tea before launching into my story again.
"The rehab center was a small building on the outskirts of London," I start, my voice steady.
"Concrete walls and narrow hallways. It felt like a prison at first, but eventually...it started to feel like home."
I pause to take another sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through me.
"We had a strict daily routine - wake up at six for breakfast, followed by group therapy sessions. Then individual therapy, lunch, and more therapy in the afternoon."
Luca shifts closer to me on the couch, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
Clara leans forward, her eyes fixed intently on my face.
"It wasn't easy," I continue quietly.
"There were times when I wanted to give up. But...I kept thinking about all of you. How much I missed our laughter and late-night conversations."
My voice catches slightly as I remember those early days in rehab.
"I wrote letters to each of you," I admit, glancing around at my friends.
"But I never sent them."
Lily reaches out to touch my arm gently.
"Why not?" she asks softly.
I take another sip of tea before answering.
"I wasn't ready," I say simply.
"I needed time to figure things out for myself. To get better." Clara nods understandingly, her eyes filled with compassion.
"And then...there was the withdrawal," I continue quietly.
"The first few weeks were hell. Fever and chills. Violent shaking and endless vomiting. There were times when I thought I wouldn't make it."
My voice trembles slightly as I remember those dark days.
Luca squeezes my shoulder gently, offering silent support.
"But you did make it," Lily says softly, her voice filled with emotion.
"You're here with us now."
I take another sip of tea, gathering my strength before continuing.
"The therapy sessions were tough at first," I admit quietly.
"I didn't want to talk about my feelings or share my story with strangers. But eventually...it started to help. I began to see things clearly again. To understand why I'd turned to drugs in the first place."
Clara reaches across the table to squeeze my hand lightly.
I lean back into the worn leather couch, my half-empty green tea growing cold on the table.
The café's evening crowd filters in, their chatter a gentle background hum to our intimate conversation.
Luca's hand remains steady on my shoulder, while Clara's fingers stay intertwined with mine.
Lily reaches across to squeeze my knee gently, offering silent support.
The weight of sharing my story lifts slightly from my shoulders, though my throat feels raw from talking so much.
When the café's bell chimes again, I look up to see Lucy Edwards walking in - her long blonde hair falling down her back like a river of gold.
My muscles tense instinctively, but I force myself to relax.
Instead, I focus on the warmth of my friends' presence surrounding me.
Lucy pauses when she sees us, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of surprise and something else—understanding.
I watch as she hesitates by the counter, her fingers drumming lightly against her coffee cup.
After a moment, she walks towards our corner, her steps uncertain.
Clara's grip on my hand tightens slightly, while Luca shifts beside me to make more room on the leather couch.
Lucy stands at the edge of our table, her usual confidence replaced by a quiet vulnerability.
"Hi Mohamed," she says softly, looking down at her cup.
"Can I sit?"
The café's background noise swells around us as my friends remain silent, waiting for my response.
I slide over on the couch, creating a small space between Luca and me.
Lucy sits, her coffee cup trembling slightly in her hands.
"Thanks," she says quietly, her eyes meeting mine.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," I say, my voice steady despite the memories her presence stirs.
"Seven months sober now."
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips.
"That's amazing."
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound being the clinking of cups and muted conversations around us.
Lucy breaks the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I heard Anna Winter is having a party tonight. Are you going?"
My stomach tightens at the mention of Anna's name.
I remember her face from years of shared birthdays and family dinners.
The countless childhood photos our parents love showing their guests.
Anna's smile and laughter echo in my mind as I consider Lucy's question.
I glance at my friends, who watch me with concerned expressions.
I take a deep breath before answering Lucy.
"Yes, I'm going."
The words feel heavy on my tongue, but I know it's time to face my past and move forward. Lucy nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
"I understand," she says softly, probably remembering how her own party ended for me.
She reaches out to touch my arm briefly before standing up to leave.
As Lucy walks away, I realize that tonight is not just about facing the past—it's about reclaiming my future.
I sit on my bed, surrounded by clothes scattered across the floor.
Luca sprawls in my desk chair, suggesting outfits while Clara and Lily perch on the floor, sorting through my shoes.
They try to keep the mood light, but I catch worried glances when I check my phone for the party details.
Clara holds up my favorite black shirt, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of concern and understanding.
"I remember you wearing this to Lucy's party last winter," she says softly.
I take the shirt from her, feeling a mix of emotions as I pair it with new jeans.
I want to create better memories tonight.
Luca leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Mohamed?" he asks, his voice gentle but probing.
I nod, trying to muster more confidence than I feel.
"I'll be fine," I say, standing in front of my mirror to adjust the shirt.
Luca, Clara, and Lily wait by my bedroom door.
My hands shake slightly as I check my phone - 9:45 PM.
Music already thumps from down the street where Anna's house glows with party lights.
Clara holds my arm as we walk, her grip more protective than casual.
At Anna's front door, the bass vibrates through my chest.
Bodies press against us in the crowded hallway, red cups everywhere.
The familiar smell of alcohol and weed hits me.
Luca leans in close, his voice barely audible over the music.
"Remember, you can leave anytime," he says, his eyes steady on mine.
Clara nods in agreement, her grip tightening slightly on my arm.
We stand in Anna's living room at 10 PM, the music pulsating around us.
The sweet, heavy scent of marijuana drifts from the back patio where people laugh and smoke.
Couples disappear upstairs, their bodies pressed together.
A long line stretches from the bathroom, people shifting from foot to foot as they wait their turn.
My black shirt clings to my back with sweat as I watch Luca and Lily dance together, their bodies close but not touching.
Clara stays by my side, both of us in our carefully chosen outfits.
Drinks are offered to us by passing partygoers, but we decline each time.
When someone offers me a pill, my hands start trembling again.
Clara notices immediately and pulls me aside, her voice firm yet gentle.
"You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Mohamed," she says, her eyes searching mine for understanding.
I nod, swallowing hard as I try to steady my breath.
Lucy appears in front of us, holding a tray of vodka shots.
Her eyes meet mine, a challenge glinting in their depths.
Without hesitation, I reach out and grab all three shots from the tray.
I down them one after another, the alcohol burning its way down my throat.
Lily's face darkens as she glares at Lucy, who smirks before turning away.
Luca and Clara burst into exaggerated cheers, their voices rising above the music.
"Who are you and what have you done with Mohamed?" Clara shouts, her hands gesturing dramatically in the air.
Lily's worried gaze meets mine, but I laugh along with Luca and Clara, the alcohol already warming my chest.
But deep down, I know this isn't who I want to be.
I dance with my friends in Anna's living room, the music pulsing around us.
Clara twirls me around while Luca and Lily jump to the beat beside us.
The vodka courses through my veins, making me feel lighter with each passing moment.
As I spin around, my gaze falls on Lucy again, this time standing alone by the wall.
Her eyes meet mine, and I know I've made a statement.
I'm not the boy who runs away anymore.
More drinks are thrust into our hands by passing partygoers.
I take them without hesitation, the alcohol blurring the edges of my vision.
The room spins faster with each drink, but I keep going.
When my cup is empty, I stumble through the crowd of dancing bodies towards the kitchen to get more alcohol.
My legs wobble beneath me as I try to stay upright.
The floor seems to tilt like a boat at sea. My stomach lurches violently, and I double over, vomiting onto Anna's carpet.
Faces blur above me as my knees buckle beneath my weight.
I drift in and out of consciousness on Anna's living room floor, the music muffled and distant.
Concerned faces hover above me, their voices a jumbled mix of worry and panic.
Through blurred vision, I see Clara on her phone, her fingers moving swiftly over the screen.
Luca kneels beside me, his hands holding my head steady.
Lily is on her knees next to me, tears streaming down her face as she grips my hand tightly.
The distant sound of sirens grows louder, cutting through the music and chatter.
The front door bursts open, and paramedics push through the crowd with a stretcher.
They lift me gently onto it, and I catch glimpses of party guests recording on their phones as they pass by.
Lucy stands in the corner, her face pale with shock.
I wake up slowly, my eyes adjusting to the sterile white ceiling above me.
The smell of disinfectant fills my nostrils, and my head pounds with a dull ache.
I turn my head to the side, wincing as pain shoots through my temples.
Lily, Clara, and Luca sit in plastic chairs beside my bed, their faces drawn with exhaustion and worry.
Clara is the first to notice that I'm awake.
She nudges Lily and Luca, who both snap their heads towards me.
"Hi Mohamed," they say in unison, their voices quiet and cautious.
Lily's eyes are red from crying.
"Are you okay?"
I manage a weak smile, my throat dry.
"I am okay."
The doctor had lectured me about the dangers of underage drinking and how lucky I was that nothing worse happened.
He told me to stay away from alcohol and to take better care of myself.
I nodded, feeling ashamed and regretful for my actions. They nod, but the concerned expressions on their faces don't fade.
They get up from their chairs and lean in for a group hug, their arms careful around my sore body.
Lily pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine.
"We're glad you're okay," she whispers, her voice trembling.
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat.
"I'm sorry for worrying you guys."
They pull away, and Luca smiles weakly.
"No more getting drunk at parties, deal?"
I laugh softly, wincing at the pain in my head.
"Deal."
Clara glances at her watch.
"We should get going. We don't want to be late for our first day of sixth form."
We all get up from our chairs and follow Clara out of the room.
As we walk down the hallway, I notice that people are staring at me.
Some of them whisper to each other as we pass by.
Clara notices it too, and she rolls her eyes.
"They're probably just staring at your new haircut," she says with a smirk.
I run a hand through my hair, which is shorter than it's ever been before.
"I don't think so," I reply, glancing around at the people staring at me.
"I think it's because of what happened at Anna's party."
Lily frowns slightly.
"I don't think anyone here knows about that," she says quietly.
"Only people from school were there."
I shrug slightly, not sure what else to say.
We reach the entrance of the school building and walk inside together. The hallway is bustling with students talking and laughing with each other as they head to their first class of the year.
The sound of lockers opening and closing echoes through the hallway as students grab their books for their first class.
We walk past them all, heading towards the principal's office to meet with Laura Thompson, our principal.
When we get there, we knock on the door and wait for her to let us in.
She opens the door with a warm smile on her face and invites us inside.
She motions for us to sit down in the chairs across from her desk and asks how we're doing after our summer break.
We all tell her that we're good and that we're excited to start sixth form this year.
She smiles again and tells us that she's glad to hear that.
Then she asks us why we're here to see her today. I explain that I'm here because I got drunk at Anna's party over the summer and ended up in the hospital.
I tell her that I'm lucky nothing worse happened to me and that I'm sorry for my actions.
She listens attentively as I speak, her expression serious but understanding.
She nods, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of concern and resolve, and says, "Let's make sure this year is about new beginnings."
Principal Thompson leans forward in her chair, her reading glasses catching the fluorescent light as she looks over my academic records on her desk.
She explains that she's reorganized my class schedule so that I can be in the same classes as my friends.
"I've put you in Literature with Clara, Chemistry with Luca, and Mathematics with Lily," she says, her voice firm but gentle.
I start to protest, feeling a bit uncomfortable about receiving special treatment just because of one mistake, but she holds up a hand to stop me.
"I've spoken with your rehab counselor, and I think this will be good for you," she continues.
"I want to create a support system for your recovery."
I grip the armrest of the chair tightly, hating the pity in her eyes but knowing that this is exactly what I need right now.
Luca leans over, whispering, "Hey, at least we'll get to suffer through Chemistry together."
Clara chuckles softly, adding, "And I'll make sure you don't fall asleep in Lit class."
Lily smiles reassuringly, "We've got your back, Mohamed. Always."
I stand up from the chair, my legs steadier than they were at the party.
Principal Thompson extends her hand across the desk, and I shake it firmly, maintaining eye contact.
Behind me, my friends gather their bags, but I take a moment longer to speak.
"Thank you," I say, my voice clear and determined.
"I won't waste this chance."
She nods, the pity in her eyes replaced by professional respect.
As we file out of her office, Luca playfully punches my shoulder, Clara links her arm through mine, and Lily starts planning our study sessions.
We follow Luca, Clara, and Lily down the crowded hallway toward the cafeteria.
My new schedule is clutched in my hand, and I can feel the weight of second chances on my shoulders.
Students part around us, some whispering about my hospital stay, but my friends form a protective circle.
The familiar smell of pizza and french fries grows stronger as we approach the cafeteria.
At the entrance, I hesitate for a moment, remembering how I used to skip lunch to get high in the bathrooms.
Clara squeezes my arm reassuringly while Luca holds the door open.
Lily leads us to our old corner table by the window and pulls out a chair for me.
I sit down, and Luca starts telling jokes about our new Chemistry teacher, making us all laugh.
Clara steals my chips, and I can't help but smile at her mischievous grin.
As we eat, the conversation flows easily, but then Lucy approaches with her lunch tray in hand.
The laughter dies down as she stands awkwardly by the table, her designer bag slung over her shoulder.
For a moment, it feels like we're back at the party, and I can feel my heart racing.
But then I slide over in my seat, making room for her to join us.
Lucy hesitates for a moment before setting down her tray and sitting beside me.
She's quiet at first, and I can sense the weight of her popularity status momentarily forgotten.
But when Lily mentions her new haircut, Lucy breaks into a smile and compliments her.
We follow Clara down the arts corridor toward her drama class.
Our footsteps echo against the linoleum floor, and I can hear the distant hum of a music class coming from one of the rooms.
Clara is telling me about her plans to audition for the school play, but my attention drifts as we pass by the open door of the theater.
Inside, a group of students are gathered on the stage, talking and laughing together.
One guy in particular catches my eye.
He has dark wavy hair that falls across his forehead, and he's leaning against the edge of the stage, gesturing animatedly as he talks to his friends.
His brown eyes sparkle with amusement, and I find myself holding my breath as I watch him.
"Who's that?"
I whisper to Clara, nudging her with my elbow.
She follows my gaze and smiles knowingly.
"Marco Garcia," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
"He's a sixth former. He's in my drama class."
I continue to stare at Marco, taking in his broad shoulders and strong jawline.
I can feel my cheeks growing warm, and I know that Clara has noticed.
She nudges me back and raises an eyebrow. "You like him?" she asks, her voice teasing.
I quickly look away from Marco and focus on Clara instead.
"I don't know," I admit, feeling a little flustered.
"I've never really had a crush on anyone before."
Clara's eyes widen with surprise, but then she grins mischievously.
"Well, we'll have to fix that," she says, linking her arm through mine again.
"Don't worry, I'll help you figure it out."
Before I can respond, Clara glances at her watch and gasps in surprise.
"Oh no, I'm going to be late for class!" she exclaims, pulling away from me.
"I'll see you at lunchtime, okay?"
I nod in response and watch as Clara hurries off down the corridor toward her drama class.
She dashes into the drama studio, and I linger in the corridor outside.
I pretend to check my phone while stealing glances through the window in the door.
Marco is now standing in the center of the stage, a script in his hand.
He begins to speak, reciting a monologue from Romeo and Juliet.
His voice rings out clearly, and I can feel the emotion in his words.
He moves naturally around the stage as he speaks, using gestures to emphasize his lines.
I watch him in silence, mesmerized by his performance.
The other students in the class sit at the edge of the stage, watching him with equal attention.
When Marco finishes speaking, they all applaud loudly, and I can't help but join in.
He grins broadly, looking pleased with himself, and then he takes a seat at the edge of the stage. I continue to watch through the window as Marco's drama teacher stands up to give him feedback.
I can't hear what she's saying, but Marco listens intently, nodding his head every so often.
When she finishes speaking, he stands up again and begins to recite another monologue.
This time, he falters over one of his lines and stops abruptly.
He runs his fingers through his dark curls in frustration, and my stomach flips over at the sight of him.
I slide down to sit on the floor beside the door, telling myself that I'll leave after this one last scene.
I grip the door handle, my heart pounding against my ribs as I slowly push it open.
The heavy door creaks, drawing a few glances from the students seated at the back of the auditorium.
I slip inside, choosing an empty chair in the last row where the shadows partially hide me.
Marco is still on stage, reciting his monologue.
He hasn't noticed me yet, and I hold my breath as he continues to speak.
His voice fills the space, echoing off the walls of the auditorium.
I watch him in silence, taking in every detail of his performance.
When he messes up a line and laughs at himself, running his hand through those dark curls again, I lean forward in my seat.
I'm completely transfixed by him.
Finally, the drama teacher calls for a five-minute break, and Marco steps down from the stage.
I gather my courage and stand up from my seat, my legs shaking slightly as the other drama students file out into the corridor for their break.
Marco remains on the stage, gathering up his script pages that he dropped during his performance.
As I walk down the center aisle, my footsteps echo in the nearly empty auditorium.
He looks up at the sound of my approach, and our eyes meet.
My throat feels dry as I climb the steps onto the stage, nearly stumbling on the last one.
Marco's eyebrows raise in curiosity as I move closer, close enough to see the light sheen of sweat on his forehead from performing.
"You were amazing up there, Marco," I say, my voice coming out a little breathless.
He smiles, tucking his script pages into a folder.
"Thanks," he replies, glancing at me with interest.
"What's your name, bro?"
I hesitate for a moment before answering.
"Mohamed Abdi," I say.
Recognition flashes in his eyes, and he takes a step closer to me.
"Wait, you're Anna's friend, right?" he asks.
"I remember you from her party last year."
I nod, feeling a little self-conscious about the fact that I vomited all over him that night and ended up in the hospital.
"Yeah, that was me," I admit sheepishly.
"I'm really sorry about what happened."
Marco waves his hand dismissively.
"It's no big deal," he says with a shrug.
"I'm just glad you're okay now."
I smile back at him, feeling a little more at ease.
"Yeah, me too," I reply.
"I spent seven months in rehab after that night. But I'm all better now."
Marco nods sympathetically.
"That must have been tough," he says quietly.
"But it's good that you're doing well now."
We stand there for a moment in awkward silence before Marco extends his hand to me.
"Nice to meet you officially, Mohamed," he says with a grin.
I shake his hand firmly, feeling a jolt of electricity as our palms touch.
"Nice to meet you too, Marco," I reply. We start talking easily after that, exchanging stories and laughter like we've known each other for years.
I find myself opening up to Marco in ways that I never have with anyone else before.
He listens attentively as I tell him about my struggles with addiction and my journey towards recovery.
When I finish speaking, he nods thoughtfully and smiles at me again.
"You're really brave to share your story like that," he says sincerely.
"It takes a lot of courage to be so honest."
I shrug modestly, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at his words.
"It's not easy," I admit quietly.
"But it's part of who I am now. And I'm proud of how far I've come."
Marco nods again, his eyes filled with understanding and respect.
"I can see that," he says softly.
"You're an amazing person, Mohamed. And I feel lucky to know you." As we continue talking on the stage, Clara enters the auditorium with Lily and Luca in tow behind her.
Clara waves enthusiastically as she approaches, her eyes flicking between Marco and me with curiosity.
"Hey, Mohamed! What are you doing here?" she asks, a teasing lilt in her voice.
I glance at Marco, then back at Clara, feeling a surge of newfound confidence. "Just making new friends," I reply with a smile.
Clara grins, bouncing up the steps onto the stage with Lily and Luca following behind her.
"Hi, I'm Clara," she says, extending her hand to Marco.
"And you are?"
Marco takes her hand, shaking it firmly.
"I'm Marco," he replies with a smile.
"Nice to meet you."
Clara nods, then turns back to me with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"So, Mohamed, what are you doing tonight?" she asks casually.
I shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under her scrutiny.
"I don't have any plans," I admit quietly.
"Well, that's perfect," Clara exclaims excitedly.
"Because we're going to The Melody Bar tonight for karaoke. And you're coming with us!"
My heart skips a beat at her words, and I can feel my cheeks flushing slightly.
"Oh, um, I don't know," I stammer nervously.
"I'm not really good at karaoke."
Clara waves her hand dismissively.
"Don't worry about that," she says reassuringly.
"We'll all be singing together. It'll be fun!"
I glance at Marco, who is watching our exchange with interest.
He smiles at me encouragingly, and my heart races in response. "Okay, sure," I say finally, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.
"I'll come."
Clara squeals with delight, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug.
"Yay! It's going to be so much fun!"
As Clara pulls away from me, I notice that Marco is still watching us with interest.
I feel a warmth spread through my chest at the sight of him, and I can't help but smile shyly in his direction.
"So, Marco," Clara says suddenly, turning to face him again.
"Do you want to come with us too?"
Marco hesitates for a moment before nodding his head slowly.
"Yeah, sure," he replies quietly.
"I'd like that."
My heart leaps into my throat at his words, and I have to force myself not to grin too widely in response.
Clara nods enthusiastically, pulling out her phone from her pocket and typing out a quick text message to someone.
"There we go," she says with a satisfied smile when she finishes typing.
"I just invited Luca and Lily. And now we just need to figure out how we're all going to get there."
I stand with Marco and Clara near the stage, pulling out my phone from my pocket to check the ride-sharing apps.
The thought of being in close quarters with Marco makes my palms sweat, but I force myself to focus on finding a car for us all.
"Maybe we can all share a car together," I suggest, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.
"That way we can split the fare."
Clara nods enthusiastically, glancing at her phone screen again.
"That sounds like a great idea," she agrees.
"I'll text Luca and Lily to wait outside for us. And then we can all head there together."
As Clara types out another quick message, I continue scrolling through the ride-sharing app on my phone.
I'm trying to focus on finding the best option for us all, but it's hard to concentrate when Marco is standing so close beside me.
I can feel the warmth of his body radiating against my skin, and it's making me feel lightheaded.
Just as I'm about to book a car for us, Marco steps closer behind me, peering over my shoulder to look at my phone screen.
"What are you finding?" he asks softly, his breath tickling my earlobe. I shiver slightly at the feeling of his warm breath on my skin, but I try not to let him see how much he's affecting me.
"Um, well," I stammer nervously, forcing myself to focus on the app again.
"There's a car available in five minutes. It'll cost us around twenty dollars to get there."
Marco nods thoughtfully, his eyes scanning over the app screen as well.
"That sounds good," he says after a moment.
"Why don't you go ahead and book it?"
I hesitate for a second before nodding my head in agreement.
"Okay," I reply quietly, tapping the "book" button on the app screen.
A few seconds later, a confirmation message pops up on my phone, letting me know that our driver is on the way.
I glance up at Marco, who is still standing beside me with a smile on his face.
"Our car should be here in five minutes," I tell him softly.
He nods again, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he looks away once more.
"Great," he says with a small smile.
"Hey, Mohamed," Marco says, his voice suddenly serious.
I turn to him, surprised by the change in his tone.
"Do you think we could talk more about your story sometime?" he asks, sincerity in his eyes.
I step into The Melody Bar with Marco, Clara, Luca, and Lily behind me.
The neon lights overhead cast purple shadows across our faces as we make our way through the crowded room.
The bouncer at the door had checked our IDs before letting us in, and now we're being led to a table near the back of the room by a hostess.
The main room is dimly lit, with tables scattered throughout and a large stage at the front where people are currently singing off-key karaoke.
The sound system is loud and clear, but it's hard to hear anything over the chatter of the crowd.
We squeeze into a curved leather booth near the back of the room, Marco sliding in first and then me.
Clara follows next, and then Luca and Lily take the end seats.
My thigh presses against Marco's under the table, making my pulse quicken slightly.
When a waitress comes over to take our drink orders, I order a Coke from the menu.
I'm determined to stay sober tonight, even though there are plenty of tempting cocktails on the list. "You sure you don't want anything else?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
I shake my head firmly.
"No thanks," I reply with a smile.
"I'm good with just a Coke."
She nods and turns to Marco next.
"What about you?" she asks him.
He glances at me for a moment before answering.
"I'll have a Coke too," he says quietly.
As the waitress walks away, Marco leans closer and whispers, "Let's make tonight unforgettable."
I sit beside Marco in the booth, our shoulders touching as the neon lights cast purple shadows across his face.
Clara and Luca get up to go order drinks from the bar, leaving us alone for a moment.
Marco leans closer to me, his voice low as he says, "I'm bisexual."
I meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Okay," I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady.
"That's okay."
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, it's not a big deal," he replies.
"I just thought I should tell you."
"Thanks," I say gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
"It means a lot that you trust me enough to share that with me."
He smiles again, this time more widely.
"Yeah, I guess I do," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the music playing in the background and the hum of conversation around us.
I can feel Marco's thigh pressed against mine under the table, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
"So," Marco says suddenly, breaking the silence.
"What do you think about London?"
I laugh, surprised by his question.
"Well," I say slowly, "I think it's a pretty great city."
He grins mischievously.
"Better than Manchester?" he teases.
I roll my eyes playfully.
"Oh please," I reply with a laugh.
"London is so much better than Manchester. It's like comparing apples and oranges." He shakes his head good-naturedly.
"You're wrong," he says with a chuckle.
"Manchester is way better than London. It's like comparing sunshine and rainbows."
I laugh again at his ridiculous comparison.
"Okay fine," I say with a grin.
"But only because you're so cute when you're wrong."
He blushes slightly at my compliment, but he doesn't argue any further.
Instead, he leans in closer to me and whispers in my ear, "You're kind of adorable when you're wrong too."
My cheeks heat up at his words, but I can't help smiling at him as well.
Just then, Luca returns with our drinks and slides them across the table to us.
Clara follows behind him with her own drink in hand, along with Lily bringing up the rear with a glass of wine for herself. Clara slides back into her seat next to Marco while Lily takes the chair across from her.
Luca hands me my Coke and then sits down beside Lily.
"Are you guys going to sing?" he asks, looking around at us all.
"I think we should," Clara says, glancing at Marco and me.
"Come on, it'll be fun."
Marco nods in agreement, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he looks away again.
"Sure, why not," he says with a small smile.
"I'll go first."
He gets up from the booth and makes his way over to the stage, where he starts talking to the MC.
A few minutes later, the music starts playing and Marco takes the microphone in hand.
He begins singing a duet with Lily, their voices blending together perfectly as they belt out the lyrics to a popular song from a musical.
When they finish, Clara gets up and goes to take the microphone from him.
She starts singing her own rock anthem, belting out the lyrics with so much energy that the crowd around us starts clapping along. When she finishes her song, she comes back over to our booth and slides into her seat next to Marco again.
"Your turn," she says with a grin, looking at me expectantly.
I hesitate for a moment before getting up from my seat and making my way over to the stage.
The MC greets me with a smile and hands me the microphone.
I glance back at our booth, where Marco is watching me intently with his eyes fixed on mine.
I take a deep breath and look down at the menu of songs on the screen in front of me.
I select one of Central Cee's popular tracks from the list and wait for the music to start playing.
I grip the microphone tightly in my hand as the familiar beat drops through the speakers.
My nerves start to fade away as I begin rapping along to the lyrics, letting the rhythm guide my movements.
The crowd around me starts clapping along with the music, and I can feel their energy building with each verse that I nail.
From our booth, I can see Clara dancing and waving her arms in the air while Luca pumps his fist in excitement.
Lily bounces up and down to the beat, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.
But it's Marco's intense gaze that keeps me focused on the stage.
His eyes never leave mine as I command the microphone, pouring all of my passion and energy into every word that I sing.
When I finally hit the final note, the bar erupts in applause and cheers.
I make my way back through the crowded bar, still buzzing from the performance energy.
People pat my shoulders and give thumbs up as I pass.
When I reach our booth, Marco slides over to make room for me, his eyes shining with admiration.
Clara jumps up to hug me while Luca and Lily cheer.
I squeeze into the tight space next to Marco, our shoulders pressing together in the dim light.
My heart pounds from both the performance rush and his closeness.
I sit in math class next to Marco, struggling to focus on Mr. Simmons' equations scrawled across the whiteboard.
My friends are scattered around us - Luca and Lily whispering two rows back, Clara doodling by the window.
When Marco leans over to borrow a pencil, his arm brushes mine.
The touch sends electricity through me.
I watch him work, admiring how his curls fall across his forehead as he writes.
My heart pounds as I realize these aren't just crush feelings anymore.
I stare at my notebook, pretending to follow Mr. Simmons' equations as I gather the courage to talk to Marco.
Each time he shifts in his seat, his cologne wafts over me, making my palms sweat against my pencil.
The clock ticks painfully slow as I rehearse the words in my head.
When Marco drops his eraser, we both reach down to grab it.
Our fingers brush, and he looks up at me with those warm brown eyes.
My heart pounds so loud I'm sure the whole class can hear it.
I lean toward him, my voice barely audible over the scratching of pencils and Mr. Simmons' droning.
"I think you dropped this," I whisper, holding out the eraser.
He takes it, his fingers brushing mine again.
"Thanks," he says, his voice low and smooth.
My hands tremble as I force the words out.
"Marco?"
He looks at me, his profile silhouetted against the whiteboard.
I watch his every move intently.
"Yes?""I...I wanted to ask you something."
He pauses his writing mid-equation, his pencil hovering above the page.
The seconds stretch painfully long as I wait for him to turn toward me.
I notice every small detail - a loose curl falling over his forehead, the slight movement of his throat as he swallows, the way his fingers tighten around his pencil.
"What is it?" he asks, finally meeting my gaze with a curious smile.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment.
"Would you like to go out with me sometime?"
After I ask Marco out, I hold my breath as he turns to face me fully.
His eyes light up, and a smile spreads across his face.
"I would love to - how about tonight?" he says.
The words make my chest tighten with excitement.
I try to keep my voice steady as I agree, but my hands tremble while putting away my math supplies.
When the bell rings, I practically run out of the classroom to find my friends in the hallway.
Clara spots me first and waves, her bright pink hair clips bobbing as she moves through the crowd.
I grab her arm and pull her close, Luca and Lily following behind us.
"He said yes," I whisper, breaking into a huge grin.
Clara squeals and throws her arms around me while Lily claps her hands.
Luca grins and ruffles my hair, saying "About time, mate."
Clara pulls back, her eyes wide with excitement.
"Where are you going to go?" she asks eagerly.
I bite my lip, glancing at the others. "He suggested that new café on Main Street."
Clara nods, her eyes lighting up.
"I've been there before! They have the best brownies."
I smile, feeling a surge of happiness.
"Perfect. I'll text him to finalize the plans."
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen, my heart racing.
Marco's contact info glows at me - I saved it during math class when he wrote it on my notebook with a small heart.
My thumb hovers over the message box as I type and delete several drafts.
After five attempts, I finally settle on something simple: "Hey, is 7pm good for the café?"
The three dots appear immediately, indicating that he's typing back.
My stomach flips as I wait for his response.
It comes after what feels like an eternity: "Perfect! Can't wait to see you :)"
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
After typing and deleting several responses, I finally send a casual "Great! See you then!" with shaking hands.
Clara peers over my shoulder, reading the message before I can hide it.
She squeals and grabs my arm, Luca and Lily crowding around us in the busy hallway.
I turn to show them the message, my face heating up as Clara reads it aloud.
Lily squeals and grabs my arm, while Luca gives me a knowing smirk.
I walk through the evening streets, my heart pounding in my chest with each step.
The neon signs of the shops and restaurants flicker overhead, casting long shadows on the sidewalk.
I pass by couples laughing and holding hands, the smell of food wafting from the restaurants making my stomach growl with hunger.
As I turn the corner onto Main Street, I see the café in the distance.
Its bright lights and bustling atmosphere make it stand out against the quieter buildings around it.
I slow down my pace, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.
I pause outside the entrance, looking through the large window that takes up most of the front wall.
Inside, I see elderly couples sipping coffee and sharing meals, while younger patrons sit alone at the bar, typing away on their laptops or scrolling through their phones.
My eyes scan the room until they land on a familiar figure sitting in a corner booth.
It's Marco, his face lighting up with a smile as he catches my eye.
He stands up and waves me over, motioning for me to come inside. I take another deep breath before pushing open the door and stepping into the café.
The sound of chatter and clinking dishes fills my ears as I make my way through the crowded room towards Marco's table.
He stands up as I approach, pulling out a chair for me to sit down in.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice sending shivers down my spine.
"You look beautiful."
I blush and mumble a quick "thank you" before taking a seat in the chair he pulled out for me.
He sits back down across from me, his eyes never leaving mine as we both wait for the waitress to come over and take our order.
A few minutes later, a friendly-looking woman with curly brown hair and a warm smile approaches our table with her notepad in hand.
"Hi there! Can I get you two something to drink?" she asks cheerfully. I hesitate for a moment before speaking up.
"I'll just have water please," I say quietly, feeling Marco's eyes on me as I speak.
The waitress nods and turns to Marco, who orders a whiskey with ice before handing her back his menu.
I watch as she walks away, feeling a pang of regret for not ordering something stronger myself.
But I know that I need to stay sober tonight if I want to make it home safely.
Besides, it's not like I haven't had enough to drink already this week.
I sit back in my chair and adjust the water glass that the waitress left for me, my eyes darting around the room as I try to think of something to say.
Marco leans back in his chair, his dark curls catching the light from the overhead lamps as he watches me with a knowing smile.
"So," he says finally, breaking the silence between us.
"How was your day?"
My voice comes out shakier than I intended when I answer him.
"It was good," I say quietly, fidgeting with my napkin as I try to think of something else to say.
Marco sets his whiskey down on the table and leans forward, closing the distance between us.
His cologne drifts across the table towards me, making my stomach flip with nervousness as he starts talking again.
"So, how about you?" he asks softly, his eyes never leaving mine as he waits for my response. I swallow hard and try to focus on what he's saying instead of how close he is to me right now.
"I had a pretty good day too," I say finally, forcing myself to meet his gaze as I speak.
"I went to drama rehearsals after school and then hung out with some friends for a bit."
Marco nods thoughtfully and takes another sip of his whiskey before speaking again.
"That sounds like fun," he says softly, his voice sending shivers down my spine as he continues talking.
"I've always wanted to be in a play myself, but I never had the time."
"Really?" I ask, surprised by his revelation.
"Yeah," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
"But maybe it's not too late to try something new."
I stare at his hand resting on the table next to his whiskey glass, gathering up the courage to touch him.
I can hear him talking about his favorite plays in the background, but it's hard to focus on what he's saying when all I can think about is how warm his skin looks under the lights.
My fingers tremble slightly as I slowly extend my arm across the wooden surface of the table towards him.
The chatter and clinking dishes fade away into the background as my fingertips brush against his warm skin for the first time.
He pauses mid-sentence and looks down at our hands, his eyes locking onto mine once again with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.
Then, without saying a word, he lifts his hand and intertwines his fingers with mine, giving them a gentle squeeze that sends electricity coursing through my veins. Neither of us says anything for a moment, letting this intimate moment linger between us as we stare into each other's eyes.
In that silence, I realize this is where everything changes.
I lean closer across the table, drawn to his warmth.
His fingers tighten around mine as we both ignore our drinks, lost in each other's eyes.
When he lifts his free hand and brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, I close the distance between us.
Our lips meet softly at first, then with growing intensity.
The kiss feels electric, making my whole body tingle.
I pull back from our kiss, my heart pounding in my chest.
That's when I notice three elderly men at the next table glaring at us with disgust.
One of them, wearing a red polo shirt, mutters loudly enough for us to hear, "Take that gay stuff somewhere else."
Marco's hand tightens around mine as he stands up, squaring his shoulders.
"We have every right to be here," he says firmly, his voice carrying across the café.
The man starts to say something back, but before he can finish, Marco steps toward their table.
"Want to take this outside?" he challenges them.
The men fall silent, averting their eyes and hunching over their drinks.
Marco sits back down and gives me a protective smile.
I sit there, still buzzing from the encounter.
My water remains untouched, but Marco takes a long sip of his whiskey, never letting go of my hand.
The elderly men avoid looking our way now, the red-faced leader suddenly very interested in his coffee.
I lean closer to Marco, captivated by his confidence and strength.
"Maybe we should finish our drinks," I suggest.
He looks at me, then pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles softly.
That simple gesture makes my stomach flip.
I stand up from the table, still holding his hand.
We leave the payment and a generous tip on the table before walking out of the café.
The evening air is cool against my flushed face as we step outside.
Street lamps illuminate the pavement ahead, casting long shadows.
Couples and dog walkers pass us, but Marco and I walk close together, our shoulders brushing occasionally.
"Want to take a walk through Victoria Park?" he asks, his voice low and inviting.
I nod, following him as he leads the way.
The park is quiet at this hour, with only a few people strolling along the paths.
We turn down a path that leads through the rose garden, where the scent of blooming flowers fills the air.
Marco leads me to a wooden bench nestled between two large rose bushes.
The bench is weathered and worn, but it's sturdy enough for us to sit on.
We settle down, our thighs pressed together as we sit close.
I can feel the warmth of his body radiating against mine.
The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of the roses, and I breathe it in deeply.
Marco reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm.
I tilt my head back and look up at the sky, where the stars are starting to appear through the gaps in the clouds.
The sky is a deep shade of indigo, and the stars twinkle like diamonds scattered across the fabric of the universe.
A gentle breeze rustles through the leaves of the rose bushes, causing them to sway slightly in the wind.
We sit there in silence, watching the stars come out one by one.
I feel completely at peace, more so than I have since leaving rehab. After a while, Marco shifts closer to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
I lean into him, feeling safe and protected in his embrace.
The warmth of his body seeps into mine, and I feel myself relaxing further into his arms.
The stars continue to twinkle above us, and I watch them lazily as they come out one by one.
We walk home together, our footsteps echoing off the buildings as we make our way through the dimly lit streets of London.
The air is cool and crisp, carrying the scent of rain.
We talk about everything and nothing, our conversation flowing easily as we walk side by side.
As we approach my house, I can see the warm glow of the lights in the windows.
It's a welcoming sight after a long day.
Marco slows down as we reach the gate, his eyes scanning the street.
"It's not safe for you to be walking alone in the dark," he says, his voice filled with concern.
I nod in agreement, knowing that he's right.
"Let me walk you home," he offers, his hand reaching out to take mine.
I smile gratefully at him, feeling safe and protected with him by my side.
We continue walking, our footsteps matching each other's as we make our way to my front door.
As we reach the doorstep, Marco turns to me and pulls me into his arms.
He holds me close, his lips brushing against mine in a soft kiss. "Thank you for tonight," he whispers, his breath warm against my skin.
I smile up at him, feeling happy and content.
"Thank you," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
He pulls back from me, his eyes shining with affection.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he says, his voice filled with promise.
I nod, watching as he turns and walks away into the darkness.
I stand there for a moment, watching him disappear into the shadows before turning and opening the front door.
I wake up at 7:40 to the sound of rain tapping against my window.
I brush my teeth and take a quick shower before getting dressed.
When I walk into the kitchen, Munira is already sitting at the table eating her breakfast.
She's wearing her school uniform, a white blouse and a blue skirt that reaches just above her knees.
My parents, Layla and Abdinur, are sitting across from her, sipping their coffee.
"Good morning," I say as I take a seat next to Munira.
"Good morning," they reply in unison.
I pour myself a bowl of cereal and add some milk.
"So, who was that guy who walked you home last night?" my father asks, his eyes fixed on me.
"It was Marco Garcia," I reply, taking a bite of my cereal.
"He's a classmate of mine."
"And why was he walking you home?" my mother asks, her voice filled with curiosity.
"We were on a date," I say, looking down at my bowl.
"Oh," they both say, their voices filled with surprise.
"Well, that's nice," my father says, his voice filled with approval.
"So, are you gay?" my mother asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "I'm not sure," I reply, looking up at them.
"I might be queer."
"Oh," they both say again, their voices filled with surprise.
"Well, we support you no matter what," my father says, his voice filled with love.
"As long as you stay sober," my mother adds, her voice filled with concern.
"Marco seems like a good influence," my father says, nodding thoughtfully.
Munira looks up from her breakfast, her eyes wide with interest.
"Does this mean I get to meet him soon?" she asks eagerly.
I walk into school with a spring in my step, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air.
My friends are already gathered by their lockers, and I make my way towards them.
"Hey," I say, pulling them into a quiet corner where we can talk without being overheard.
"So, what happened last night?" they ask in unison.
I smile, knowing that they're eager to hear all the details.
"Well," I begin, "Marco took me to this really cute café for coffee. We talked about everything and nothing, and then he walked me home."
"That sounds amazing," Clara says, her eyes shining with excitement.
"It was," I reply, feeling a sense of happiness wash over me.
"And then what happened?"
Luca asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Well," I continue, "we sat down on a bench in the park and just talked. It was really nice."
"And then?"
Lily presses, her voice filled with anticipation.
"And then he kissed me," I say, feeling a flutter in my chest at the memory.
"Wow," they all say in unison, their faces filled with surprise and delight. "So, are you guys dating now?" asks Clara directly.
I hesitate for a moment before answering.
"I think so," I say finally, feeling a sense of uncertainty wash over me.
"But what about the homophobes?"
Luca asks, his voice filled with concern.
"They won't be happy about this."
"I know," I reply, feeling a sense of worry wash over me.
"But I can't help how I feel."
"We'll support you no matter what," Lily says firmly, her voice filled with determination.
"Thanks," I say gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
I take a deep breath before speaking again.
"There's something else I need to tell you guys."
They all look at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.
"I think I might be queer."
There's a moment of silence as they process what I've just said.
Then Clara speaks up, her voice filled with confusion.
"What do you mean by queer?"
I hesitate for a moment before answering.
"I mean that I'm not sure if I'm gay or straight or something else entirely."
They all nod thoughtfully as they consider my words.
"Okay," Clara says finally, her voice filled with understanding.
"We support you no matter what." They all nod in agreement as they pull me into a group hug.
I smile, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I finally embrace who I am.
We wait by the school gates after final period, Luca, Clara, Lily, and I.
Marco walks up to us, his dark curls messy from drama rehearsal.
My stomach flips as he approaches.
He greets me with a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to my friends.
"Hey," he says, flashing them a charming smile.
Clara immediately launches into a series of questions about his theater experience, while Luca sizes him up silently.
Lily tries to ease the tension by suggesting we all get coffee at The Bean Spot.
As we walk, Marco regales us with stories and jokes, making Clara and Lily laugh.
Luca remains reserved, watching Marco carefully.
I catch Luca's eye and give him a reassuring nod, knowing that in time, he'll see what I already do.
We sit at our usual lunch table, Marco and I on one side, our fingers intertwined under the table.
Clara and her girlfriend Olivia take the seats across from us, exchanging knowing smiles as they unpack their lunches.
Luca and Lily arrive last, completing our circle.
The cafeteria buzzes around us, but our corner feels intimate.
We share food and stories, our laughter mingling with the clinking of silverware against plates.
At one point, Lily looks directly at me and asks, "So, are you two dating?"
I glance at Marco before answering, "Yes."
He squeezes my hand under the table as our friends cheer and congratulate us.
Luca reaches across the table to pat my shoulder, saying he's happy for us.
We continue eating, the conversation flowing naturally between couples.
I sit in my bedroom after lunch, replaying the scene in the cafeteria.
My phone buzzes with messages from Clara and Lily, both offering their support and excitement about Marco and me being official.
Luca sends a simple thumbs-up emoji.
I smile, feeling grateful for such understanding friends.
My phone screen shows Marco's profile picture, his bright smile and dark curls making my stomach flutter.
I remember his hand in mine under the table, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down my spine.
Suddenly, a text from Marco pops up on my screen.
"Hey, want to meet at Victoria Park later?"
My fingers tremble as I type out "yes."
I can't wait to see him again, to feel his hand in mine and maybe even steal a kiss or two.
As I wait for his response, I reach into my pocket and touch the sobriety chip I always carry with me.
It's a reminder of how far I've come since my overdose, how much I've grown and learned.
I sit with Marco and my friends at The Bean Spot café when Lucy approaches our table.
She's excited about her upcoming house party, telling us about the pool, music, and other attractions.
While everyone else discusses outfit choices and transportation plans, my hands start trembling around my green tea cup.
Marco notices and squeezes my knee supportively under the table.
When Lucy directly asks if I'm coming, I hesitate, thinking about the drugs and alcohol that will be there.
Marco leans in and whispers, "You don't have to go if you're not comfortable."
Lucy, catching the exchange, says, "Hey, no pressure—it's just a party. We can hang out another time."
I nod, grateful for their understanding, and say, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it."
We enter Lucy's mansion through a grand entrance, the sound of pounding music and flashing lights enveloping us.
The massive foyer leads to various rooms where teens mingle, some drinking and smoking.
Through glass doors, we see the pool illuminated like a neon oasis, partially clothed bodies splashing and dancing in the water.
My hands start trembling again as I spot someone passing pills in a corner.
Memories of my overdose flood back, making my chest tighten.
Marco notices my distress and pulls me closer, his touch grounding me.
I lean into his embrace, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against my back.
Teens dance around us, some bumping into us as they pass.
Someone offers us drinks, but Marco politely declines for both of us, keeping his arm firmly around my waist.
We move away from the dealing corner toward the kitchen, where it's quieter.
Through the window, I watch swimmers splash in the pool's blue glow.
Temptation lurks in every shadow, but with Marco by my side, I resist.
We stand in Lucy's kitchen, looking out at the pool through glass doors.
The music is muffled here, and I can finally breathe.
The kitchen is crowded with teens from school, some smoking weed or snorting lines of cocaine off the counter.
Lily and Clara watch me with worried eyes, while Luca stands close but doesn't seem as concerned.
He's always had faith in my recovery.
Someone offers me a pill, and my heart races, but I remember how Luca called my parents when he found me passed out from an overdose.
I shake my head and grip Marco's hand tighter.
We dance in Lucy's living room, house music pulsing through the speakers.
Marco holds my hand, his smile reassuring.
I sip a beer, careful not to overdo it.
Clara and Lily laugh nearby.
A girl approaches me, introducing herself as Chloe Owens.
She says she's interested in me.
I tell her my name is Mohamed Abdi and that I'm queer, interested in boys and girls.
I point to Marco and say he's my boyfriend.
Chloe raises an eyebrow, glancing between Marco and me.
"Well, if you ever want to talk or hang out, I'm around," she says with a friendly smile.
Marco chuckles softly, leaning in to whisper, "Looks like you've got options."
I move with Marco on Lucy's crowded living room floor as house music pulses through the speakers.
His hands rest on my hips while mine wrap around his neck.
Our bodies sway together, moving as one.
The flashing party lights catch his dark curls, and his cologne fills my senses with each step.
Other couples dance around us, but I focus only on Marco's warm brown eyes meeting mine.
The room is dimly lit, and the shadows dance across his face.
Suddenly, he leans in and whispers, "Want to find a quieter place?"
I nod, and we slip away from the crowd.
We make our way up the stairs and find a bedroom that looks unused.
We close the door behind us, and I lock it for privacy.
We share a deep kiss, our hands exploring each other's bodies.
We undress each other slowly, our clothes falling to the floor.
I lead Marco to the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.
I feel nervous yet excited as we have a#l s#x for the first time.
After three rounds, I tell Marco this is my first time with a guy.
He says he's been with two others before but enjoyed this the most.
I confess I love him, and he says he loves me too.
We lie there in the dim light, catching our breath, when Marco suddenly turns to me with a serious expression.
After Lily and Luca leave, Marco and I lie there in the bed.
The sounds of their intimacy filter through the thin walls.
We exchange nervous glances, unsure how to react.
I pull the covers tighter around us, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
Marco leans close to whisper a joke about the thin walls, making me laugh softly.
We decide to stay put, not wanting to interrupt our friends again.
As the noises continue, we talk quietly about our own experience, sharing thoughts and feelings.
Marco turns to me with a thoughtful look.
"Do you ever think about what it would be like if we lived together?" he asks softly.
I sit up on the bed, looking at him with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"Living together? Like, as in moving in together?"
He nods, his eyes filled with a hint of excitement.
"Yeah, I mean, it's just a thought. But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to wake up every morning next to you."
I smile, feeling a warmth in my heart.
"That sounds amazing, Marco. But we're only 16. We're still living with our families. It's not something we can consider right now."
He sighs, nodding in understanding.
"You're right. I guess it was just a crazy idea."
I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently.
"It's not crazy. It's actually really sweet. But let's wait until we're 18 and done with school before we start thinking about moving in together."
He smiles, his eyes lighting up again.
"I'd love that."
We lean in and share a soft kiss before getting dressed and returning to the party downstairs.
As we make our way back to the living room, we notice the long lines for the bathrooms.
We walk downstairs with our hands linked, our faces still flushed from our intimate encounter.
At the bottom of the stairs, we find Lily and Luca waiting for us with knowing smirks on their faces.
Lily winks at me while Luca playfully punches my shoulder.
"Looks like you two had a good time," he teases.
I can feel myself blushing, but I just smile and nod in agreement.
Clara appears from the kitchen, her eyes widening as she takes in our disheveled appearance.
"You guys look like you've been up to something," she remarks with a knowing smile.
Before we can respond, Lucy approaches our group with a tray of drinks from the kitchen.
"Hey everyone, I brought some more drinks. Help yourselves."
As she passes the drinks around, an awkward silence falls over our group.
It's as if everyone is remembering that they walked in on Marco and me earlier in the night.
I squeeze Marco's hand tighter, feeling both embarrassed and proud at the same time.
Our friends exchange knowing glances, but no one says anything about it.
I load our suitcases into my father's car while Munira sulks beside me, unhappy that she has to join us for our couples' weekend.
We arrive at Lily's mother's mansion, where the others are already waiting outside.
Marco greets me with a kiss on the cheek while Clara and Olivia hold hands, their bags stuffed with bottles of alcohol.
Lily uses her mother's spare key to let us in, and we explore the enormous house with its marble floors and crystal chandeliers.
In the grand foyer, we divide up bedrooms, with Munira claiming a suite far from the rest of us.
I sit on the plush leather sofa with Marco while Clara and Olivia arrange bottles on the coffee table - vodka, gin, whiskey, and various mixers.
Lily returns from the kitchen carrying a few bottles of her mother's expensive wines, explaining that her mom won't notice if a few bottles go missing.
The temptation is strong, but I grip Marco's hand tightly and remind myself of my sobriety.
When Munira enters, she eyes the drinks with interest, but I catch her gaze and subtly shake my head no.
She rolls her eyes but sits beside me as our friends start pouring drinks.
I stare at the vodka bottle on the coffee table, my fingers itching to reach for it.
Despite my earlier resolve, I find myself reaching for the bottle with trembling fingers.
Marco's grip on my hand loosens in surprise as I pour a full glass.
Clara and Olivia exchange worried glances while Lily bites her lip nervously.
Munira watches me with wide eyes as I lift the glass to my lips.
The familiar burn hits my throat as I swallow, remembering my promise to stay sober.
But it's just alcohol, not drugs, I tell myself, even as guilt settles in my stomach.
I drain the vodka cup quickly while my friends watch in stunned silence.
The familiar warmth spreads through my body, and I feel myself relaxing into the sofa.
Headlights sweep across the windows as a car pulls up outside.
We hear tires on gravel and a car door slam.
Lucy walks in through the front door, a designer bag slung over her shoulder.
She looks at us all with a smile.
"I saw your posts on social media and thought I'd join you," she says, not waiting for an invitation.
She walks upstairs and claims the last empty bedroom, dropping her bag on the floor before returning downstairs to settle onto the sofa beside Clara.
I sit alone by the indoor pool, my feet dangling in the water.
The smell of chlorine fills the air, and the gentle ripples of the water soothe my racing mind.
I think about how I broke my sobriety earlier, but I push those thoughts away.
The sound of footsteps echoes through the room, and I turn to see Lucy walking towards me.
She's carrying a towel and wearing a swimsuit cover-up.
She drops her towel on a nearby chair and pulls off her cover-up, revealing a black bikini underneath.
Then she slips off her bikini top and bottoms, leaving her completely naked.
I'm startled for a moment, but I try to act casual as she slips into the water.
She swims closer to me, and I can't help but stare at her body.
She smiles at me and says, "I know you're looking."
I look away, feeling embarrassed, but she just laughs.
"It's okay," she says.
"I like it when people look at me."
We sit there in silence for a moment, and then she says, "I have something to tell you."
"Okay," I say, curious about what she's going to say.
"I'm bisexual," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I look at her in surprise, and she smiles.
"I've known since elementary school," she says.
"I used to play with you guys at recess, and I always felt like I fit in better with girls."
She pauses, and then she says, "I remember when we first became friends. We were all so young, and we didn't know anything about the world. But we knew that we liked each other's company."
Her voice grows softer as she continues to speak.
"I remember playing with you guys at recess, and I remember having sleepovers at your house. And I remember how much fun we had together."
She pauses again, and then she says, "But I also remember feeling different. I remember feeling like I didn't quite fit in with the other girls. And I remember feeling like I was attracted to both girls and boys."
I try to keep eye contact with her as she speaks, but it's getting harder and harder.
Her nakedness is making me uncomfortable, and I don't know how to react.
I shift in my seat slightly, trying to get more comfortable.
I can feel Marco upstairs in his bedroom, and I wonder if he can hear us talking.
Lucy notices my discomfort, but she doesn't stop speaking.
"I just wanted you to know," she says, her eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity.
I watch uncomfortably as she gets out of the pool, water dripping from her naked body.
I look away, not knowing what to say.
She smiles at me and says, "Get dressed. We have a lot to talk about."
I nod and stand up, shifting slightly as I move.
I can feel her eyes on me, but I try to ignore it.
She pulls on her bikini and cover-up, then grabs her towel and walks towards me.
I shift away from her slightly, but she just smiles again.
"Let's go upstairs," she says, and I follow her.
We walk upstairs together, and I can feel Marco's presence in his bedroom.
I wonder if he can hear us talking, but I don't say anything.
Lucy leads me into the living room, where Clara is sitting on the couch.
Clara looks up at us and smiles.
"Hey," she says, and Lucy sits down beside her.
I sit down in a chair across from them, feeling a little awkward.
Lucy turns to me and says, "So, what do you think?"
I shrug, not knowing what to say.
She smiles again and says, "Let's have a party tonight. We can invite our whole friend group, plus some other people from school."
I nod, thinking about it for a moment.
It sounds like a good idea, but I'm not sure if it's the right time. Clara looks at me and says, "What do you think?"
I shrug again and say, "It sounds like fun. But we should make sure that everyone is okay with it."
Lucy nods and says, "Of course. We'll send out invitations and make sure that everyone knows what's going on."
Clara smiles and says, "Sounds good to me."
Lucy turns back to me and says, "So, what do you think?"
I shrug once more and say, "It sounds like a good idea. Let's do it."
Lucy smiles again and says, "Great. Let's get started."
She stands up and walks over to the kitchen counter, where there are several bottles of alcohol sitting.
She grabs one of the bottles and pours herself a drink.
Then she turns back to us and says, "Who wants one?"
Clara raises her hand and says, "Me."
Lucy pours her a drink as well, then turns to me and says, "How about you?"
I hesitate for a moment before saying anything.
"No, thanks," I finally say, trying to sound casual.
Lucy raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"Still worried about breaking your sobriety?" she asks, her tone light but probing.
I shrug, trying to brush it off.
"I'm just not in the mood," I say, but she knows me too well.
She nods knowingly and says, "Suit yourself."
She takes a sip of her drink and then turns to Clara.
"So, what do you think about the party idea?" she asks.
Clara smiles and says, "I think it's a great idea. We can invite everyone and have a really good time."
Lucy nods in agreement and says, "Exactly. And we can make sure that everyone is safe and having fun."
I watch them talking, feeling a little left out.
I know that I should be excited about the party idea, but I'm just not feeling it right now.
I need to find a way to get into the right mindset before I can really enjoy myself.
The sound of the front door opening pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see Munira walking into the room.
She looks around at us and smiles.
"Hey guys," she says, dropping her purse onto the couch.
"Hey," Lucy replies, gesturing for Munira to join us.
Munira walks over and sits down beside Clara.
"What's going on?" she asks, looking at us curiously.
"We were just talking about throwing a party tonight," Lucy explains.
Munira's eyes widen in surprise.
"A party? That sounds like fun," she says, turning to look at me.
I nod, trying to muster up some enthusiasm.
"Yeah, it should be a good time," I say. Munira smiles and says, "I'll help with the planning. Just let me know what you need me to do."
Lucy grins mischievously and says, "We'll make sure to put you in charge of something important."
Munira laughs and says, "Sounds good to me."
We all sit there for a moment, discussing the party plans and making sure that everything is in place.
As we talk, I start to feel more excited about the whole thing.
I stand with my friends in Lily's mansion's foyer as dozens of students from Westmere School pour through the front door.
Some of them are carrying bags full of alcohol and other substances, while others have already started drinking and are stumbling around.
The marble floors vibrate with the heavy bass of house music blasting through speakers set up in the living room, and the air is filled with the smell of weed and sweat.
Marco holds my hand protectively, his eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.
Lucy stands at the front door, greeting people and directing them to different rooms in the house.
Munira looks around nervously, her eyes wide with excitement.
Clara stands next to me, her arms folded across her chest as she surveys the scene before us.
As more and more people arrive, the party starts to get wilder.
Some kids are making out in corners, while others are dancing on top of tables or doing keg stands.
The noise level is getting louder by the minute, and I can feel my heart racing with anticipation. I didn't plan this party, but I feel responsible for it now that it's happening.
I know that I should be having fun, but I can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.
I look around at my friends, hoping that they'll be able to help me keep everything under control.
But they're all too busy having their own fun to pay much attention to me.
Suddenly, someone grabs my arm and pulls me into a hug.
It's Munira, and she's grinning from ear to ear.
"This is so much fun!" she exclaims, her voice loud over the music.
I smile back at her, trying to match her enthusiasm.
"Yeah, it's great," I say, but inside I'm starting to feel anxious again. As we hug, I notice a group of kids gathered around the kitchen counter.
They're passing pills back and forth and swallowing them down with shots of liquor.
I feel a surge of fear run through me as I realize what they're doing.
"Clara," I whisper urgently, tugging on her arm.
She looks at me curiously and follows my gaze to the kitchen counter.
Her expression changes from excitement to concern as she sees what's going on. "We have to stop them," she says, pulling me toward the kitchen.
I follow her reluctantly, not wanting to get involved in whatever is happening there.
As we approach, Lucy intercepts us, her face serious.
"What's wrong?" she asks, noticing our worried expressions.
Clara points to the group and says, "They're taking pills with alcohol. We need to shut this down before someone gets hurt."
Lucy nods and says, "I'll take care of it."
She walks over to the group and says something to them that I can't hear.
They all nod and start to disperse, putting away their pills and liquor.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I watch them leave.
But then I notice something else that makes my heart skip a beat.
A group of drug dealers has set up shop in the upstairs bathroom, cutting lines of cocaine on the marble counter.
My hands start shaking as I watch them work, the familiar ritual sending electricity through my body.
I feel myself being drawn toward them, my feet moving automatically up the stairs.
I know that I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't stop myself.
As I reach the top of the stairs, one of the dealers notices me and motions for me to come over.
I walk toward him, my heart pounding in my chest.
He offers me a rolled-up bill and I take it, bending down to snort a line of white powder off the counter. The rush hits me hard, making my head spin and my senses go into overdrive.
I feel like I'm floating above my body, watching myself from outside.
The dealer offers me another line and I take it, snorting it down quickly.
Then he hands me a lit blunt and I take a long drag, feeling the smoke fill my lungs.
As I exhale, I feel myself coming back down to earth, my senses slowly returning to normal.
The dealer pats me on the back and says, "Good stuff, huh?"
I nod dumbly, still trying to process what just happened.
Suddenly, someone grabs my arm and pulls me away from the counter.
It's Clara, her face twisted with confusion and horror. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice shaking with anger.
I try to explain but I can't find the words.
Marco steps forward and takes Clara's hand, pulling her away from me.
He looks at me with sadness in his eyes and says, "We need to talk."
I nod numbly and follow him downstairs to the living room.
Munira is sitting on the couch, her eyes red from crying.
She looks up at me and says, "What happened?"
I shake my head and say, "I don't know."
She stands up and hugs me tightly, saying, "It's okay. We'll get through this together." As we hug, I see Luca and Lily talking in the corner of the room.
They both look upset, and I can tell that they're talking about me.
I try to go over to them but I stumble and almost fall.
Marco grabs my arm and holds me steady, his eyes filled with worry.
I try to explain what happened but all that comes out is slurred mumbling.
Lily quickly turns down the music so we can talk, and Clara helps me sit down on the couch.
I look around at my friends, seeing the pain and confusion in their faces.
I know that I've let them down, and it hurts more than any amount of cocaine or alcohol ever could.
Marco kneels down in front of me, his warm brown eyes filled with worry.
He takes my hands in his and says, "What happened?"
"I lost control."
I lean back against the brick wall of Lily's mansion, my head still spinning from the cocaine.
Marco stands next to me, his arm around my waist to keep me steady.
Clara looks at us and says, "Let's all go outside and talk."
Lily nods and says, "I'll clear out the party."
She quickly makes her way through the crowd, telling everyone that it's time to leave.
Luca helps confused stragglers find their rides home, while Munira gathers up trash and bottles.
A few minutes later, we're all standing in the driveway, forming a circle in the middle of the cobblestone.
Clara looks at me and says, "What happened?"
I try to explain but my teeth are chattering too hard to form words.
Marco rubs my back and says, "It's okay. Just take your time."
I take a deep breath and say, "I don't know what happened. I just lost control."
Lily shakes her head and says, "You were doing so well. What made you relapse?"
I shrug and say, "I don't know. I just felt overwhelmed by everything."
Munira steps forward and says, "We're here for you. We'll help you get through this." Luca nods and says, "We'll do whatever it takes to help you stay sober."
I smile weakly and say, "Thank you guys. I don't know what I would do without you."
We spend the next hour collecting evidence of the party.
We stuff bottles and trash into bags and carry them out to the neighbor's bin.
Marco holds my hand as we sneak across the lawn, trying not to wake anyone up.
As we walk back inside, I feel exhausted but grateful for my friends' help.
I stumble into the bathroom connected to my bedroom, my stomach churning from the cocaine and alcohol.
I make it to the toilet just in time, vomiting up a mixture of bile and liquor.
As I lean against the cool marble wall, I feel my body start to shake.
My hands tremble as I turn on the hot shower, trying to steady myself.
The warm water washes away some of the fog in my head, but I can still feel the effects of the cocaine coursing through my veins.
I get dressed slowly, my hands shaking as I button up my shirt.
As I walk downstairs, the smell of bacon and coffee wafts up from the kitchen, making my stomach turn again.
I find Lily cooking breakfast while everyone else sits at the table in silence.
Their concerned faces watch me as I enter, their eyes filled with worry. Marco pulls out a chair beside him and motions for me to sit down.
I do so carefully, avoiding eye contact with Munira.
She looks up at me and says softly, "How are you feeling?"
I shrug and say, "A little better."
She smiles weakly and says, "Good. We're all here for you."
Lily brings over a plate of bacon and eggs and sets it in front of me.
She says, "Eat something. You need your strength."
I nod and take a bite of bacon, feeling my stomach churn again.
But I force myself to keep eating, knowing that I need to get back on track.
As we finish breakfast, Luca looks at me and says seriously, "We need to talk about what happened last night."
I nod and say, "I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Munira shakes her head and says gently, "It's not your fault. We all make mistakes sometimes."
Clara looks at me and says, "But we need to figure out how to prevent it from happening again."
I nod and say, "I know. I'll do whatever it takes."
Marco squeezes my shoulder and says, "We'll all help you. We're in this together."
I look up at him and see the concern in his eyes.
I know that he's worried about me, and it makes me feel even worse about what happened.
I take a deep breath and say, "Let's figure out how to make things right together."
Munira nods and says, "Okay. Let's start by calling your therapist. We can set up an emergency appointment for you."
Lily says, "And I can drive you to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting tonight."
Luca adds, "I know someone who runs a youth support group. I can get you in touch with them."
I nod and say, "Thank you guys. I appreciate it."
As we finish breakfast, I feel a sense of hope rising inside me.
I know that I have a long road ahead of me, but with my friends' help, I can overcome anything.
As we clear the table, Munira pulls out her phone and starts researching local Narcotics Anonymous meetings.
Marco holds my hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
I look around at my friends and family, meeting each of their eyes one by one.
Lily breaks the silence, saying, "We all believe in you, but you have to believe in yourself too."
I nod, swallowing hard, and reply, "I know, and I will. I promise I'll do better."
Clara adds softly, "Remember, it's okay to ask for help whenever you need it."
I help load suitcases into the cars parked outside Lily's mansion.
Marco gives me a quick kiss goodbye before getting into his mother's car.
Clara and Olivia share a taxi, while Lucy leaves first in her Range Rover, waving casually at us as she drives away.
Luca and Lily give me one last tight hug each.
"We'll check in later," they promise, before getting into their car and following behind Lucy's vehicle.
Finally, our family driver arrives in the black Mercedes.
Munira and I climb into the backseat, buckling our seatbelts as he starts the engine.
Through the window, I watch as the cars carrying my friends pull out of the driveway one by one.
Munira looks over at me and says, "You know, you don't have to face this alone."
I nod, feeling the weight of her words, and reply, "I know, but sometimes it just feels like too much."
She reaches for my hand and says softly, "That's why we're here—to help carry the load when it gets heavy."
We pull into the driveway of our house, and I can see my parents standing outside, waiting for us.
I step out of the car, suitcases in hand, as they rush over to hug Munira and me tightly.
Their faces show a mix of relief and worry.
Munira stands beside me, nudging me to speak.
Taking a deep breath, I explain the truth about the party—how there were drugs and alcohol, and how I relapsed.
I admit to snorting two lines of cocaine and smoking a blunt.
Their expressions change from worry to anger, and then finally to sadness.
They remind me that this isn't my first time struggling with addiction.
Eight months ago, I overdosed and was found by Luca in the school bathroom.
It was a wake-up call for all of us.
I spent seven months in rehab, finally returning just a month ago.
My father sighs deeply and says, "We thought you were past this, but we won't give up on you."
My mother wipes a tear from her eye and adds, "We just want you to be safe and healthy. We'll do whatever it takes to support you."
I nod, feeling the weight of their love and disappointment, and reply, "I know, and I'm ready to fight this with everything I've got."
I sit in the living room with my parents, my hands shaking as I explain what happened at the party.
Through tears, I tell them how the cocaine made me feel invincible and free, like I didn't need courage to face life anymore.
I describe how the withdrawal symptoms were unbearable, making me feel like I was going crazy.
My mother covers her face with her hands, while my father grips the armchair tightly.
Munira stands by the window, crying silently.
After a heavy pause, I say, "I've decided to go to Narcotics Anonymous meetings in London."
My father sits on the leather sofa, pulling out his phone to search for nearby NA meeting locations.
His fingers shake slightly as he scrolls through the results, but his voice remains calm and steady.
He reads out the options, and I listen intently.
My mother brings us cups of tea, placing them carefully on the coffee table between us.
She sits down beside my father, her eyes filled with concern.
After a moment, my father finds a meeting at St. Mark's Church tomorrow evening.
He looks at me and says gently, "I'll leave work early tomorrow to drive you there."
Munira squeezes my hand, and I nod gratefully.
The gentleness in my father's voice is a stark contrast to his usual stern tone.
I look at him and say, "Thank you, Dad. I know this isn't easy for you."
He shakes his head and replies, "You're my child. There's nothing more important than helping you heal."
My mother adds softly, "We'll get through this together, one step at a time."
I sit in my bedroom, staring at the NA helpline number on my phone screen.
My hands shake as I press each digit, remembering the cocaine high from last night's party.
When a calm female voice answers, I struggle to speak at first.
Finally, I explain about my relapse and the party incident.
The counselor listens patiently, then tells me about the daily meetings at St. Mark's Church.
She describes the welcoming environment, sharing circles, and sponsor system.
I sit on my bed, pen in hand, as she gives me the details.
I scribble down the address and time.
The counselor assures me that I'll find support there, and that it's okay to share as much or as little as I want.
She wishes me luck and says goodbye.
I hang up and stare at the information I've written down.
My phone buzzes with texts from Marco, Clara, and Luca, all worried about me.
But I ignore them for now.
I look at the paper again, focusing on tomorrow's 7 PM meeting.
My stomach twists at the thought of sharing my story with strangers.
But I remember the counselor's warm voice and the promise of a safe space.
There's a knock on my door, and my father peeks in.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asks gently.
I nod yes, still staring at the paper in my hand.
He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him.
"You know, your mother and I are proud of you for taking this step," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.
I look up, surprised, and reply, "Really? I thought you'd be disappointed."
He shakes his head and says, "We love you, and we want you to be happy. We'll support you through this."
I smile weakly, feeling a mix of emotions.
My father walks over and sits beside me on the bed.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "You're strong, and you can do this. We'll be here for you every step of the way."
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat.
"Thank you, Dad," I say, my voice trembling.
He pulls me into a hug, and I let myself lean into it.
After a moment, he pulls back and smiles at me.
"I'm proud of you," he repeats, then stands up and leaves the room.
I sit there for a moment, processing everything.
Then I pick up my phone again and stare at Marco's contact photo.
His bright smile makes my stomach flutter with nerves. I press call, and after three rings, he answers.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with worry.
"Hi," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
I stand up from the bed and start pacing around my bedroom.
I explain about the NA meeting at St. Mark's Church tomorrow evening.
My voice catches in my throat as I ask if he'll come with me.
There's a long silence on the other end of the line before he responds.
"Yes," he says immediately.
"I'll meet you there at 7 PM."
I grip the sobriety chip tightly in my fist as tears well up in my eyes.
"Thank you," I say quietly, my voice shaking.
"Of course," Marco replies, his voice gentle.
I hear him take a deep breath before he adds, "I want to be there for you, no matter what."
A wave of relief washes over me as I whisper, "That means the world to me, Marco."
We walk down the steps to the St. Mark's Church basement, my hand tightly clasped in Marco's.
Luca, Lily, and Clara follow closely behind us.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast an eerie glow over the room.
A circle of metal chairs sits in the center of the space, where a group of people ranging in age from early twenties to late sixties sit in various states of conversation.
Some hold styrofoam coffee cups or cradle donuts on paper plates.
An older man with a kind face and a cardigan over his button-down shirt greets us as we enter.
He smiles warmly and gestures toward the refreshment table lined with donuts, pastries, and three large coffee urns.
"Help yourselves," he says, his voice gruff but friendly.
"Find a seat wherever you'd like."
My friends make their way to some empty chairs in one corner of the circle, while I grip Marco's hand tighter, feeling a surge of nerves.
We take seats next to Lily, who gives me a reassuring smile.
As everyone settles in, the group leader stands up from his chair and clears his throat.
"Welcome to tonight's meeting," he says, his voice booming through the room.
"For those new here, I'm Dave. And this is Narcotics Anonymous." The group murmurs a collective hello in response, their voices blending together into a cacophony of greetings.
Dave continues speaking, his words steady and confident as he explains the purpose of the meeting and how things will run tonight.
As he talks, I watch as others in the circle begin sharing their stories - tales of addiction and loss, of struggles and triumphs.
I feel my heart pounding faster with every passing minute until finally, it's my turn.
Dave looks around the room before his gaze lands on me.
"And what about you?" he asks gently.
"Would you like to introduce yourself?"
I stand up, my hand still tightly clasped in Marco's.
"Hi," I say, my voice trembling slightly.
"My name is Mohamed Abdi, and I'm a drug addict."
The group greets me with a chorus of warm hellos, their smiles encouraging me to continue speaking.
I take a deep breath before launching into my story.
"I've been using drugs since I was 15," I begin, my words spilling out in a rush.
"It started with weed and gradually escalated to harder substances like cocaine and heroin. Eight months ago, I overdosed on MDMA and heroin. Luckily, Luca found me in the school bathroom and called an ambulance. After that, I spent seven months in rehab and thought I was done with drugs for good."
I pause for a moment, taking another deep breath before continuing.
"But recently, I relapsed. I went to a party where there were drugs available, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I snorted two lines of cocaine and smoked a blunt. The next day, when the high wore off, I felt terrible - physically and emotionally. It was like hitting rock bottom all over again." As I speak, I see some of the others in the circle nodding along with my words.
They know what it's like to struggle with addiction firsthand.
My friends Marco, Lily, Luca, and Clara listen intently too, even though they've already heard this story before.
When I finish talking, the group applauds politely before Dave speaks up again.
"Thank you for sharing your story with us tonight," he says to me.
"It takes courage to be so open about our struggles."
I nod in acknowledgment before taking my seat once more.
Marco leans over and whispers, "I'm proud of you, Mohamed. That took guts."
Luca chimes in quietly, "Yeah, man. We're all here for you, no matter what."
Clara adds softly, "And remember, every step forward is a victory."
I sit there, feeling drained but also relieved that I've shared my story with this group of strangers.
Marco's hand remains wrapped around mine, offering a steady source of comfort.
As the meeting continues, others share their own stories and experiences with addiction.
Some speak about losing loved ones to drugs, while others talk about the struggles they face in their daily lives.
One older man stands up and shares about how he lost his wife and children due to his addiction.
His voice cracks as he speaks, and I can see the pain in his eyes.
Marco squeezes my hand tightly, as if trying to protect me from the weight of this man's words.
I look over at him, and he gives me a small smile before leaning in close to whisper in my ear, "You're not alone, Mohamed. We're all here for you."
His breath tickles my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
I nod, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words.
Luca leans forward and whispers, "And remember, we're not just here for tonight. This is just the beginning."
Clara adds softly, "We'll face whatever comes next together, okay?"
We walk out of St. Mark's Church, the four of us - Marco, Luca, Clara, and me.
The cool evening air greets us as we make our way down the steps.
I feel drained emotionally from sharing my story at the NA meeting, but having my friends here with me makes all the difference.
Marco keeps his arm around my shoulders while Clara links her arm through mine on the other side.
Luca walks beside us, his eyes scanning the street ahead.
As we approach the London Mall entrance, security guards stand outside checking bags before people enter.
We join the short line and wait our turn.
Once inside, the bright lights and bustling atmosphere of the mall envelop us.
It's a stark contrast to the dimly lit church basement we just left.
My friends form a protective circle around me as we navigate through the crowds of shoppers and passersby.
Marco guides us toward the escalator leading up to the food court on the second floor.
As we step off onto the landing, I take in the sight of various restaurants and kiosks offering everything from burgers to sushi to gelato.
The smell of food wafts through the air, making my stomach rumble with hunger.
My friends look at me expectantly, waiting for me to decide where I want to eat.
"Where do you want to go?" asks Clara gently. I scan the options before pointing to a small Italian place tucked away in a corner.
"It's okay if you guys don't want Italian," I say hesitantly, not wanting to force anything on them.
But Marco shakes his head and replies, "No way, man. Italian sounds great."
Luca nods in agreement while Clara gives me a reassuring smile.
We make our way over to the restaurant and take seats at a small table near the window overlooking the mall below.
The waiter arrives with menus and takes our drink orders before leaving us alone for a few moments to decide what we want.
I glance over at my friends, who are all engrossed in their menus, discussing various options with each other.
Marco looks up from his menu and says, "You know, Mohamed, I've been thinking about what you said earlier."
I raise an eyebrow, curious, and ask, "What do you mean?"
He leans forward, his expression serious. "About hitting rock bottom. Maybe it's not just a low point but a chance to rebuild something stronger."
I sit there, stirring my Sprite with the straw as his words sink in.
Through the massive windows of the mall, I watch people rushing past with shopping bags and strollers.
When I turn back to Marco, his brown eyes meet mine steadily.
Clara reaches across the table to squeeze my hand while Luca leans forward, waiting for my response.
The food court buzzes around us, but in that moment, it feels like we're in our own little bubble.
I take a deep breath and say, "You really think I can rebuild from this?"
Marco nods firmly, "Absolutely. You've got us, and we're not going anywhere."
Luca adds, "And maybe this time, we can help you lay down a foundation that won't crumble."
Clara smiles softly, "We'll be right there with you, every step of the way."
I sit there, feeling the weight of their words settle in.
The noise of the mall fades into the background as emotion tightens my throat.
I try to speak, but the words get caught in the lump that's formed.
Instead, I squeeze Clara's hand harder and lean into Marco's arm still wrapped around me.
I sit at the breakfast table with my family, picking at my eggs while my parents exchange tense looks.
When my father clears his throat and announces he's leaving mother for Claire Goldberg, my fork clatters against the plate.
The timeline hits me harder - he started the affair while I was in rehab.
My hands shake as I demand details, learning he's been sneaking around for eight months.
While Munira stays oddly calm, accepting his weak explanation about falling in love, I explode with rage at his betrayal.
I push back from the table violently, my chair scraping against the floor.
My father reaches for my arm but I jerk away, knocking over my orange juice in the process.
The liquid spreads across the white tablecloth, staining it while my mother sits frozen, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Munira calls my name softly as I stumble towards the front door, my hands shaking with rage.
The morning sun hits my face as I wrench the door open, but I barely notice its warmth.
I sprint away from the house, not knowing where I'm going.
My feet pound against the pavement as tears blur my vision.
The morning joggers and dog walkers become blurry shapes as I pass them by, their concerned glances barely registering.
My lungs burn from the exertion, but I keep running.
The words echo in my head with each step - eight months of lies while I struggled through rehab.
When I finally reach the corner of Westmere Park, I collapse onto a bench, gasping for air.
Clara sits down beside me, her voice gentle but firm, "You can't keep running forever, you know."
Marco leans forward, his eyes searching mine, "What are you really afraid of facing back there?"
I wipe my tears and whisper, "That I'm not strong enough to handle the truth."
I sit on the park bench between Clara and Marco, my hands shaking as I begin to explain.
"He was having an affair," I say, my voice trembling.
"With Claire Goldberg."
Clara's eyes widen in surprise while Marco's expression remains calm.
"When did you find out?" he asks softly.
"This morning," I reply, my voice breaking.
"He told us at breakfast. He's been lying to us for eight months."
Clara puts her hand on my shoulder, offering comfort.
"How long has it been going on?" she asks gently.
"Eight months," I repeat, feeling a lump form in my throat.
"He started seeing her while I was in rehab."
Marco's eyes widen in shock.
"That's when he said he was visiting me every weekend," I continue, my voice cracking with emotion.
"But instead, he was meeting her."
Clara rubs my back soothingly while Marco holds my hand tightly.
"He said he needed to be there for me," I explain, my voice filled with pain.
"But really, he was starting a new life with her."
Marco squeezes my hand reassuringly as Clara continues to rub my back.
"It gets worse," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"He used the rehab as an excuse. He told everyone he couldn't attend events because he needed to be with me. But really, he was sneaking around behind our backs." Clara pulls me into a protective hug while Marco maintains his steady grip on my hand.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers into my ear.
"I can't believe he would do this to us."
I nod silently, feeling tears stream down my face once again.
"It's not just that," I say, my voice breaking with emotion.
"It's the lies. The constant lies. He made us believe he cared about me and my recovery. But really, he was just using it as a cover-up."
Marco pulls me into a hug as well, his strong arms enveloping me in warmth and comfort.
"We're here for you," he says softly into my ear.
"We'll get through this together."
I nod against his chest, feeling a sense of security wash over me.
"I just don't understand," I say, my voice muffled against his shirt.
"Munira already forgave him. She said she wants to move forward and keep the family together."
Clara pulls back and looks at me in surprise.
"She forgave him that easily?"
I nod, feeling a fresh wave of tears threaten to spill over.
"I found her crying in bed last night," I explain.
"She had discovered his texts to Claire. She must have read them all, because she knew everything this morning."
Marco rubs my back soothingly while Clara holds my hand tightly.
"She confronted him at breakfast," I continue.
"He admitted everything. He said he was sorry, but it's too late for apologies."
Clara pulls me into another hug while Marco maintains his steady grip on my hand.
"We're here for you," she whispers into my ear.
"We'll get through this together."
I nod silently, feeling tears stream down my face once again.
Just then, Luca and Lily come running up to us, out of breath and looking concerned.
"Clara called us," Luca explains.
"She said you needed us."
Lily pulls me into a tight hug as well, her arms joining Clara's and Marco's around me.
"We're here for you," she says softly into my ear.
"We'll get through this together." I break down in sobs as the four of them surround me with their love and support.
Through my tears, I explain the entire situation to Luca and Lily - how my father admitted to the affair, how Munira already forgave him, and how I feel lost and alone amidst it all.
They listen attentively, their arms never leaving my body as they offer words of comfort and reassurance.
After what feels like an eternity, I finally begin to calm down, my sobs subsiding into gentle sniffles.
The four of them continue to hold me tightly, forming a protective circle around me that makes me feel safe and loved.
"We're here for you," Clara whispers into my ear once again.
"We'll get through this together."
I nod silently, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for these incredible friends who have become my rock during this difficult time. "We should get coffee or something," Lily suggests gently.
"Talk more about this and figure out what we can do to help."
I nod in agreement, knowing that talking it out with them will help me process everything better.
Clara stands up, offering her hand to me, "Let's find a quiet café nearby where we can sit and talk."
Luca nods, his voice steady, "We won't let you face this alone; we'll figure it out together."
I take Clara's hand, feeling a flicker of hope, "Thank you all... I don't know what I'd do without you."
We start walking towards The Bean Spot café, my legs still shaky from the emotional rollercoaster.
Clara keeps her arm linked through mine while Marco holds my other hand, both of them steadying me as we move through the dimming light.
Ahead of us, Luca and Lily scout for an empty corner booth where we can sit and talk.
Despite feeling exhausted from the morning's revelations, I find comfort in having them by my side.
As we walk, the shadows of the evening grow longer, stretching across the sidewalk like protective arms.
I stumble slightly on an uneven patch of pavement, but Clara and Marco tighten their grip, refusing to let me fall.
Luca glances back, a reassuring smile on his face, "Hey, remember, we're your safety net now."
Lily nods in agreement, her voice soft yet firm, "And we'll catch you every time you stumble."
I manage a small smile, feeling the warmth of their support seep into my bones.
We find a quiet corner in The Bean Spot café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloping us as we settle into the booth.
Marco sits beside me, his arm brushing against mine as we peruse the menus.
Clara and Lily sit across from us, their eyes filled with concern.
Luca takes his place next to Clara, his hand resting protectively on her knee.
The waitress arrives, her bright smile a stark contrast to our somber mood.
She takes our orders and disappears into the bustling café, leaving us to our conversation.
I take a deep breath, my voice still trembling as I begin to recount the events of the morning.
Marco reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against my cheek, wiping away a stray tear that has escaped despite my efforts to hold them back.
His touch is gentle, yet it sends a shiver down my spine.
Clara and Lily exchange knowing glances while Luca pretends to study the menu intently, giving Marco and me a moment of privacy amidst the evening café noise. My heart skips a beat as Marco's brown eyes lock onto mine, filled with such tenderness that fresh tears threaten to spill over.
But these tears are different from those I shed earlier about my father's betrayal; they are tears of gratitude for this boy who has become my rock in the midst of chaos.
The waitress returns with our drinks, interrupting the charged moment between Marco and me.
We take our drinks and thank her, watching as she disappears into the crowd once again.
Marco's hand finds mine under the table, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of support.
Across from us, Luca leans over and steals a soft kiss from Lily, while Clara smiles at her phone, typing out sweet messages to Olivia.
The scene before me feels familiar - like countless other nights we've spent together, supporting each other through every up and down life has thrown at us.
We met in primary school when we were nine years old and have been inseparable ever since.
Together, we weathered the challenges of adolescence, shared our deepest fears and dreams, and supported each other through every heartbreak and triumph.
Now, here we are in sixth form, still standing together despite everything.
Marco squeezes my hand under the table, his touch warm and comforting.
I look at him, my voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you for being here."
He smiles softly, his eyes never leaving mine, "I'll always be here for you."
We finish our drinks in comfortable silence, the tension in the air slowly dissipating as we savor each other's company.
Finally, Clara speaks up, her voice filled with determination, "We need to do something to take your mind off things."
Luca nods in agreement, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "How about we go to the cinema?"
Lily's face lights up, "That sounds like a great idea!"
Clara pulls out her phone and checks the movie listings, "There's a new horror movie playing tonight. It's called 'Last Man Standing.'"
Marco raises an eyebrow, "A horror movie? Are you sure that's what we need right now?"
Clara shrugs, "Why not? It'll be fun. And who knows, maybe it'll help us forget about everything for a while."
I consider it for a moment before nodding my head in agreement.
"Okay, let's do it."
The others cheer and start making plans to meet at the cinema later that night.
As we leave the café, I feel a sense of excitement wash over me.
Maybe this is just what I need - a night out with my friends and a good scare to take my mind off things. We arrive at the cinema and buy our tickets for the late-night showing of "Last Man Standing."
As we wait in line for popcorn and snacks, Lily fills us in on the plot of the movie.
"It's about this guy who wakes up one morning to find that everyone around him has turned into zombies," she explains.
"He has to fight his way through hordes of undead to find a safe place to hide."
Marco raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like every other zombie movie out there."
Lily shrugs, "Yeah, but this one is supposed to be different. The main character is really relatable and the special effects are amazing."
Clara nods in agreement, "I've heard great things about this movie. I think it's going to be really good."
We finish buying our snacks and head into the theater to find our seats.
As we settle in and wait for the movie to start, I can feel my heart racing with anticipation.
I love horror movies and I'm excited to see how this one will play out.
The lights dim and the movie starts.
At first, it's slow going.
The main character wakes up and goes about his day as usual, but then things start to take a turn for the worse.
As he walks down the street, he notices that people are acting strangely.
They're stumbling around and moaning, and it quickly becomes clear that something is very wrong.
Suddenly, one of them lunges at him and bites him on the arm.
The main character runs away in terror, but it's too late.
He's been infected and soon he'll be one of them too.
I sit in my seat next to Marco, the armrest between us feeling like a barrier until he lifts it and pulls me closer.
His cologne fills my senses as the previews flash across the screen.
Behind us, Clara and Lily giggle about something, but I barely notice, too focused on the feel of Marco's thumb tracing circles on my hand.
The movie starts with dramatic music playing in the background, setting the tone for what's to come.
But I'm not paying much attention to the screen; I'm too distracted by the feel of Marco's shoulder brushing against mine and his warm breath near my ear. The music swells as the main character runs through the streets, dodging hordes of zombies along the way.
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I watch him fight for his life.
But even with all the action happening on screen, I can't help but be aware of Marco sitting next to me.
His presence is like a magnetic force drawing me in, making it hard for me to focus on anything else.
As the movie continues, I find myself leaning closer and closer to Marco until our shoulders are touching.
I can feel his warmth seeping into me, filling me with a sense of comfort and security.
Suddenly, I realize that I've been holding my breath for far too long.
I let out a deep sigh and lean back in my seat, trying to calm myself down.
But it's no use - I'm completely lost in the moment, unable to think about anything except for how close Marco is to me. The movie ends with a cliffhanger, leaving us all wondering what will happen next.
As we leave the theater, Lily turns to us with a huge grin on her face.
"That was amazing!" she exclaims.
"I can't wait to see what happens in the next one."
Marco nods in agreement, "Yeah, it was pretty good. But I have to say, I'm not a big fan of cliffhangers."
As we step into the cool night air, I realize that some stories are best left unfinished.
We walk with Marco and the others toward Scoops & Smiles ice cream shop.
The neon sign glows pink against the dark street as we approach.
Our breath is visible in the cool night air.
Inside, the lights are bright and cheerful, casting a warm glow over everything.
Marco keeps his arm around my waist as we study the flavors behind the glass.
Clara and Lily are already arguing about what they're going to get.
"I don't know why you're even considering anything other than mint chocolate chip," Lily says.
"It's clearly the best flavor."
Clara rolls her eyes.
"You always say that, but I think strawberry is better."
I watch them bicker back and forth, but I'm not really paying attention to what they're saying.
Instead, I'm focused on Marco's thumb rubbing circles on my hip.
It feels so good that it's making it hard for me to think straight.
When the server asks for my order, I blurt out "mint chocolate chip" without even realizing it.
As we wait for our ice cream, Lily starts talking about the movie again.
"I can't believe how well the main character survived all those zombies," she says. Clara nods in agreement, "Yeah, he was pretty resourceful. I don't know if I would have been able to make it that far."
Marco shrugs, "I think anyone could survive if they had to. It's just a matter of being smart and prepared."
We take our ice cream and sit down at a table near the window.
As we eat, Lily starts telling us about her favorite part of the movie.
"The part where the main character finds the hidden bunker was so cool," she says.
"I wish I had a bunker like that to hide in when things get tough."
Clara laughs, "Yeah, that would be nice. But I think I'd rather have a giant ice cream sundae bar in my bunker."
Marco and I laugh loudly at Clara's comment, but then we hear a loud voice behind us.
"Can you please keep it down?" it says.
"We're trying to run a business here."
We turn around to see the owner of Scoops & Smiles glaring at us from behind the counter.
He's an older man with a scowl on his face and a dirty apron wrapped around his waist.
"Sorry," Marco says, holding up his hands in surrender.
"We didn't mean to disturb anyone."
The owner glares at us for another moment before turning back to his work.
We finish our ice cream in silence, but as soon as we step outside, Lily starts talking again.
"That guy was such a grump," she says.
"I don't know why he has to be so mean all the time." Clara shrugs, "I don't know, but I'm glad we got out of there before he could yell at us again."
As we walk away from Scoops & Smiles, Lily turns back and gives the owner the middle finger.
He sees her and yells something else, but we can't hear what he's saying because we're already too far away.
We laugh as we continue walking down the street, but then we hear footsteps behind us.
We turn around to see the owner of Scoops & Smiles chasing after us.
"What do you think you're doing?" he yells.
"You can't just come into my store and cause trouble!"
Marco holds up his hands again, "We didn't mean to cause any trouble. We were just having a good time."
The owner glares at him, "Well, you're not welcome in my store anymore. Now get out of here before I call the police!" We turn and run down the street, laughing and joking as we go.
When we finally stop to catch our breath, Lily turns to us with a mischievous grin on her face.
"That was fun," she says.
"Let's do it again sometime."
Her words hang in the air, a promise of more adventures to come.
We walk home, Marco and I, our hands intertwined as we make our way down the dark street.
We ran all the way out of Scoops & Smiles, but now we're finally starting to catch our breath.
The street lamps cast long shadows behind us, making it look like we have our own personal entourage following us home.
We approach my house and stop at the front door.
Marco turns to me, his brown eyes sparkling in the light from the porch.
He pulls me close and whispers "I love you" in my ear.
I smile and say it back, feeling his lips on mine as he kisses me deeply.
When he pulls away, he smiles one last time before turning and walking back into the darkness.
I watch him go, his figure slowly fading into the night until he's just a memory. I unlock the front door and step inside, calling out to my mom to let her know I'm home.
There's no answer, so I drop my purse on the entryway table and head towards the living room.
That's when I see her - my mom sitting on the couch next to Munira, her face a picture of worry and concern.
She sees me enter and smiles weakly, "Hey honey, come sit down."
I can tell by the look in her eyes that something is wrong.
My stomach twists into knots as I walk over to the couch and take a seat next to her.
Munira looks up at me with tears in her eyes, "I'm so sorry," she says softly.
I frown, unsure of what's going on, "Sorry for what?"
My mom takes my hand in hers and squeezes it gently, "Your father has officially moved in with Claire Goldberg."
I stare at her, my mind struggling to process the words.
Munira's voice trembles as she adds, "We didn't want you to find out this way, but he thought it was best for everyone."
My mom nods, her eyes filled with unshed tears, "He said he needs time to figure things out, but we're here for you, no matter what."
We sit at the kitchen table, my mother and Munira on either side of me.
My mother holds a pen in her hand, her fingers trembling as she signs the final divorce papers.
I watch her, my eyes fixed on the way her hand moves across the page, leaving behind a trail of black ink.
When she finishes, she looks up at us, her eyes filled with tears.
"It's done," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Munira starts crying softly, her shoulders shaking as she tries to hold back her sobs.
I stare down at my plate of untouched breakfast, my appetite gone.
My phone buzzes on the table next to me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I glance down and see a text from my father.
"Meet Claire at her London house this afternoon," it reads.
"She wants to meet you."
I show the text to my mother and Munira, their faces filled with a mix of sadness and anger.
My mother takes a deep breath and forces a tight smile onto her face.
"Well, I guess we should go meet the woman who destroyed our family." I grip Munira's trembling hand under the table, trying to offer what little comfort I can.
We walk to Claire's house, my heart pounding with each step.
When we reach the door, I take a deep breath and ring the bell.
A moment later, the door opens and a woman with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stands before us.
"Hello," she says, her voice dripping with sweetness.
"I'm Claire."
I introduce myself as Mohamed Abdi, my father's son.
She already knows about me, of course - my father has told her everything.
He's told her about my queerness, my drug addiction, my overdose eight months ago, and my time in rehab.
He's told her about how I came back a month ago and started dating Marco again.
He's told her about how I've been hanging out with Lily, Luca, Clara, and Olivia.
She invites us inside, offering us tea and biscuits.
I decline the offer, but Munira takes a cup of tea to calm her nerves.
We sit in the living room, surrounded by expensive furniture and artwork.
The room is pristine, with not a single speck of dust out of place.
My father sits across from us, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and determination.
He explains that he and my mother have been growing apart for years, that their love has turned into nothing more than a distant memory.
He tells us that he's met someone new, someone who makes him feel alive again.
Someone who loves him for who he is, not just for his wealth and status.
He admits that he's lost touch with his own desires and needs, that he's been living a life that isn't truly his own.
He says that he's found a new sense of purpose with Claire, that she's helped him to see the world in a different light.
I listen to his words, my anger simmering just below the surface.
I want to lash out at him, to scream and yell and tell him how much he's hurt us.
But I know it won't do any good.
Instead, I sit there silently, my fists clenched on my knees as I try to process everything that's happening. My father explains that he met Claire the day after I went into rehab.
They were introduced by a mutual friend and hit it off immediately.
Over the past eight months, they've spent every spare moment together, exploring the city and getting to know each other.
He tells us that they've fallen deeply in love, that they can't imagine living without each other.
Munira listens to his words, her face calm and composed despite the turmoil inside her.
She asks him if he's thought about how this will affect us, if he's considered the pain and heartache he'll be causing.
My father nods, his eyes filled with regret.
"I know this isn't easy for any of us," he says.
"But I have to follow my heart."
Munira takes a deep breath and looks at him with tears in her eyes.
"I just want you to be happy," she says softly.
"If Claire makes you happy, then I'm happy too."
I stand up abruptly, unable to listen anymore.
I push away from Claire's pristine coffee table and storm toward her front door.
My father calls out my name, but I ignore him.
My hands shake with rage as I fumble with the door handle.
I remember how he came to visit me in rehab, how he told me he was there to support my recovery.
How he spent the whole time talking about Claire and how much he loved her.
How he lied to me and Munira, telling us that he was still living at home when in reality he was already moving in with her.
I finally manage to open the door and step outside into the cool air.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I look out at the manicured garden path leading up to Claire's house.
I can hear my father calling after me, but I don't turn around.
Instead, I start pacing back and forth along the path, trying to calm my racing thoughts. A moment later, Munira comes out of the house and approaches me cautiously.
"Hey," she says softly, placing a hand on my arm.
"I know this is hard for you."
I pull away from her touch, unable to bear the thought of being comforted by someone who's so willing to forgive my father's betrayal.
"He's still our father," she says gently.
"We have to try to understand where he's coming from."
I shake my head angrily, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"How can you be so calm about this?" I demand.
"He's destroying our family and you're just standing there like it doesn't matter."
Munira sighs, her eyes filled with sadness.
"I'm not saying it doesn't matter," she says quietly.
"But we have to try to see things from his perspective. He's not a bad person."
I scoff, feeling a surge of anger rise up inside me.
"He's not a good person either," I snap.
"He's a selfish bastard who only cares about himself."
Munira reaches out and tries to touch my arm again, but I pull away from her once more.
I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in the garden, knowing that nothing will ever be the same again.
I walk quickly down Claire's manicured garden path, ignoring Munira's calls behind me.
The perfectly trimmed hedges and blooming roses seem to mock me as I go, their beauty a stark contrast to the ugliness of my father's betrayal.
When I reach the iron gate at the end of the path, my hands are shaking so badly that I fumble with the latch three times before I can finally open it.
As I step out onto the busy street, I hear my father calling my name from the front steps of Claire's house.
But I don't look back.
Instead, I keep walking, my footsteps crunching on the gravel beneath my feet.
Munira catches up to me, her voice urgent.
"Please, Mohamed, just hear him out," she pleads.
I stop and turn to face her, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
I stand there at the end of Claire's garden path, the sounds of the city blurring together in my ears as memories flood through my mind.
I see my family gathered around our old oak table, laughing and sharing stories over dinner.
I see Munira and me on weekend trips to Brighton Beach, building sandcastles and playing in the waves.
I see my father teaching me to ride a bike in the park, his patient voice guiding me as I wobbled along on two wheels for the first time.
But then I remember the way he lied to us, the way he betrayed our trust and broke our hearts.
And I feel my anger rising up inside me once again.
"He's not worth it," I say, my voice shaking with emotion.
Munira reaches out and grabs my arm, her grip tight with desperation.
"He's still our father," she says, her voice pleading.
"We have to try to understand."
I pull away from her grasp, feeling tears spill down my cheeks.
"You don't know what it's like," I say, my voice breaking.
"To be trapped in that hellhole of a rehab center, with no one but myself to rely on."
Munira shakes her head, her eyes filled with sadness.
"I know it was hard," she says softly.
"But we were all going through our own struggles. You can't blame us for not being there more often." I laugh bitterly, feeling a surge of anger rise up inside me once again.
"You think you know what it was like?" I demand.
"He only came to visit me twice during those seven months. And when he did, all he could talk about was how much he loved Claire."
Munira takes a step back, her face pale with shock.
"I didn't know," she says quietly.
"I thought he was visiting you more often than that."
I shake my head, feeling tears spill down my cheeks once again.
"He told us that work was keeping him busy," I say, my voice cracking with emotion.
"But really, he was just spending all his time with Claire."
Munira reaches out and tries to hug me, but I step back from her embrace.
"I'm sorry," she says softly, her eyes filled with tears of her own.
"I had no idea."
I look past her shoulder to see my father standing in the doorway of Claire's house, his silhouette outlined by the warm glow of lights inside.
Munira turns back to me, her voice trembling.
"Maybe he was trying to find a way to tell us without hurting us," she suggests, her eyes searching mine for understanding.
I shake my head, my anger still simmering beneath the surface.
"He had eight months to figure that out," I reply bitterly.
I walk through Hyde Park, my hands shaking as I make my way to our meeting spot.
I've just texted my friends about my father's affair, and I know they'll be waiting for me there.
As I approach the large wooden bench, I see Luca, Lily, Clara, and Marco already gathered there.
They turn to look at me as I approach, their faces filled with concern.
Clara stands up and opens her arms to me, and I collapse into their group hug, finally letting out the sobs that have been building inside me.
Through my tears, I tell them everything - how my father replaced my mother with Claire while I was in rehab, how Munira forgave him so easily.
Marco holds me close while Lily squeezes my hand tightly.
"We'll get through this together," they promise.
I nod, grateful for their support, as I finally begin to feel the weight of my anger lift.
We wander aimlessly through London, stopping at a corner shop to get ice cream and walking through the mall.
We browse records at a vintage store and take silly photos in a booth.
When the sun starts to set, Marco suggests checking out a warehouse party he heard about.
I'm not sure I'm ready for a party, but when Clara promises we'll stay together, I agree to go.
Inside the dimly lit warehouse, electronic music pulses through the speakers as sweaty bodies move on the dance floor.
The air is thick with smoke and the smell of sweat.
Marco pulls me close, his hands on my hips as we dance to the beat of the bass.
Our friends are all around us, lost in their own little worlds.
The music is so loud that I can feel it vibrating through my entire body.
Clara pulls me away from the crowd, leading us to a secluded corner of the warehouse.
We follow her as she weaves through the bodies, finally reaching a small alcove tucked away from the main dance floor.
Marco keeps his arm around my waist as we make our way through the crowd.
Luca and Lily trail behind us, lost in their own little bubble.
The alcove is dimly lit, with only a few flickering lights illuminating the space.
There's a circle of worn leather couches in the center, surrounded by tall tables and chairs.
Clara sinks down onto one of the couches, pulling me down beside her.
Marco follows suit, sitting on the other side of me.
Luca and Lily join us, taking up residence on the opposite couch.
The music is still pulsating through the warehouse, but it's muffled in this corner.
We can finally hear each other talk. Clara starts telling stories about our childhood, embarrassing tales of our misadventures and mishaps.
She tells the story of how Luca and I tried to sneak into the movies dressed as one tall person, only to get caught by security guards.
She tells about how Lily and I tried to start a pet-sitting business, only to end up with a house full of cats that we couldn't take care of.
We all laugh at her stories, remembering those silly moments from our past.
Then it's Marco's turn to tell stories, regaling us with tales of his adventures abroad.
He tells about how he backpacked through Europe last summer, visiting all sorts of exotic destinations and meeting new people along the way.
He tells about how he spent a month in Thailand, learning to scuba dive and island-hop.
We listen intently as he recounts his adventures, wishing we could have been there with him. After Marco finishes talking, it's my turn to share some stories.
I tell them about how Munira and I used to sneak out of the house when we were teenagers, going to parties and staying out late into the night.
I tell them about how we used to get into mischief at school, playing pranks on our teachers and causing chaos in class.
Everyone laughs at my stories, remembering their own misadventures from high school.
As we talk and laugh together, I feel a sense of comfort wash over me.
I realize that I'm not alone in this world, that I have friends who care about me and want to be there for me no matter what.
Clara leans in, her voice barely audible over the music.
"Have you thought about confronting him? Your dad, I mean," she asks gently.
I sigh, staring at the flickering lights above us.
"I don't know if I'm ready for that," I admit.
Clara squeezes my hand encouragingly.
"Whenever you're ready, we'll be here for you," she promises.
I nod, taking a deep breath.
I know that I need to face my father eventually, but I'm not sure if I'm ready yet.
Marco watches me closely, his eyes filled with concern.
"Maybe you should text him," he suggests softly.
I hesitate for a moment, then pull out my phone from my pocket.
My hands are shaking as I type out a message to my father.
I delete it and start over again, trying to find the right words to say.
Finally, I settle on a simple text asking him to meet me tomorrow at The Bean Spot café.
I hit send before I can change my mind.
Marco pulls me into his arms, holding me close as the music pulses around us.
Luca and Lily exchange worried glances across the table, but they don't say anything. A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with an incoming message from my father.
I hesitate for a moment before opening it, my stomach twisting with anxiety.
But when I see his response, I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Sure, I'll meet you there tomorrow," his text reads.
I stare at the screen, my eyes welling up with tears.
But they're not tears of sadness or fear.
They're tears of relief and determination.
Clara and Lily lean in to read the message, their faces filled with concern.
Marco's arm tightens around me as he reads it too.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks softly.
I nod, taking a deep breath.
"Yes, I need to do this," I say firmly.
Luca looks at me curiously.
"Do you want us to come with you tomorrow?" he asks.
I shake my head, smiling weakly at him.
"No, I need to do this alone," I explain.
I'm terrified of facing my father by myself, but I know that this conversation needs to happen between just the two of us. Clara squeezes my hand encouragingly.
"We'll be here for you no matter what," she promises.
I nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
I pace back and forth across my bedroom floor, practicing my lines in front of the mirror.
My reflection stares back at me, determination etched on my face.
My hands are still shaking as I repeat the words over and over again.
"How could you do this to me? How could you cheat on me with Claire while I was in rehab?"
I mutter to myself, trying to get the words just right.
There's a soft knock on my bedroom door, and Munira pokes her head inside.
"Are you okay?" she asks quietly.
I ignore her, continuing to pace back and forth across the room.
She watches me for a moment, concern etched on her face.
Then she closes the door softly behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts. It's almost midnight now, and I'm still pacing back and forth across my bedroom floor.
I'm clutching my sobriety chip tightly in my hand, repeating the same phrases over and over again.
"How could you do this to me? How could you cheat on me with Claire while I was in rehab?"
I mutter to myself, trying to get the words just right.
I pace my bedroom floor one final time before making my decision.
The clock reads 2 AM, and I'm still wide awake.
I stuff a few clothes and my sobriety chip into my backpack, then walk over to the window.
My hands are shaking as I push it open, letting in the cold night air.
Munira is sleeping peacefully in the next room, but I can't shake off the anger and betrayal that's been building inside of me all day.
I swing one leg over the windowsill, then the other, gripping the drainpipe beside my window.
Just as I'm about to climb down, I hear a voice behind me.
"Where do you think you're going at this hour?" Munira's voice is firm, yet laced with worry.
I freeze, caught in the act, and turn to face her, my heart pounding.
I pull my leg back inside and sink onto my bed, letting out a deep breath.
Munira closes the window behind me, then sits down on the bed beside me, her shoulder touching mine in the darkness.
"Where were you going?" she asks softly.
I shrug, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"I don't know," I admit.
"Maybe Marco's house. Or Clara's."
My voice cracks as I speak.
Munira reaches out and places a hand on my arm, her touch warm and comforting.
"Why are you running away?" she asks gently.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
"I can't stay here," I say, my voice shaking.
"Not after what I found out today."
Munira looks at me curiously, her eyes filled with concern.
"What did you find out?" she asks softly.
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of my secret bearing down on me.
"I found out that Dad cheated on Mom," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"With Claire."
Munira gasps, her hand tightening around my arm.
"Oh, sweetie," she says softly.
"I'm so sorry."
I nod, feeling tears roll down my cheeks.
"I was in rehab when it happened," I say, my voice cracking.
"And he never told me. He just let me come home and pretend like everything was fine." Munira pulls me into a hug, holding me tightly as I sob into her shoulder.
After a few moments, she pulls back and looks at me with concern in her eyes.
"You can't run away from this," she says gently.
"You need to face it head-on."
I nod, taking a deep breath.
"You're right," I say softly.
"But it's hard. It feels like everything is falling apart."
Munira smiles sadly at me.
"I know it feels that way right now," she says softly.
"But you're strong. You can get through this."
I nod again, feeling a sense of determination wash over me.
"You're right," I say firmly.
"I can get through this. I just need to take things one step at a time."
Munira nods encouragingly at me, then stands up and walks over to the window.
She pulls back the curtain and looks out into the night sky for a moment before turning back to me. "You should get some sleep," she says softly.
"We'll talk more about this in the morning."
Munira pauses, glancing back at me with a reassuring smile.
"And remember, you're not alone in this," she adds softly.
I nod, grateful for her support, as I watch her leave the room, feeling a little less afraid of tomorrow.