Whispers of Home

Finding love in a town he couldn’t wait to get away from is the last thing he expects, and the one thing that just may change h
is life forever.

All Jaron McAllister wanted to do was get out of the small town where he grew up. After being bullied all his life for being gay, that’s exactly what he does. He loses all contact with everyone in the town of Pickleville, including his emotionally distant mother and the only true friend he ever had.

When his best friend and mother of the child they share, get murdered he knows he must ask for help in the one place he thought he would never go back to. Coming back home isn’t easy and finding himself attracted to the town man-slut spells disaster. Travis Heath isn’t at all what his reputation suggests though.

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Whispers of Home

Copyright © 2014 April Kelley

ISBN: 978-1-4874-0240-2

Cover art by Carmen Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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Whispers of Home

Pickleville 1

By

April Kelley

I can’t remember where we were going. Picking up animal feed or something equally as ordinary. I do remember we were in the car and I was driving. Something inside me burst open and I blurted out, “I’m bisexual.”

You didn’t even look at me. You just said, “How do you know?”

“I just know,” I said and shrugged my shoulders together as if that would make me smaller.

You looked at me then. Maybe you saw how tense I was. Whatever it was you saw in me, you said, “You know I’ll always love you, right? That’s not going to change. You’re still my middle baby.”

Yep, Mom. I still am.

Thanks for being you.

Jaron shook with dread at just the thought of going to the school’s bathroom. He never knew when Brad and his friends would follow him in. The last time they did he had a bruise on his shoulder for a week from where they rammed him into the corner of the bathroom stall. He just couldn’t hold it until the end of the day this time though. Two more hours seemed liked a life time. He raised his hand reluctantly.

“Yes, Jaron,” Mrs. Larson said. She sat at her desk at the back of the classroom. They were supposed to be silently reading a book for the first fifteen minutes of class. Most students were actually doing what they were supposed to, with the exception of Jackson and Miranda who sat next to each other whispering. Mrs. Larson had good books for her students to pick from so most of the class actually liked the reading portion of their time period with her, Jaron included.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”
Jackson mocked from the front of the room like a second grader instead of the senior he was. Everyone in the classroom laughed except for Jaron, who tensed up. He glared at Jackson who gave him the finger.

“Jackson, read your book,” Mrs. Larson scolded. She smiled at Jaron. “Go ahead, Jaron.”

“Thank you,” he said and made his way to the door. As he passed by Jackson and Miranda, which he had no choice as they were in the aisle ahead of him, he heard, “Fucking faggot.” Jaron was pretty sure it came from Miranda.

Stupid bitch was so far up Jackson’s ass she probably thought she was blind. Miranda used to be his friend, but somewhere around seventh grade that changed. Jaron wasn’t sure why, other than Jaron was forced out of the closet by Brad Stevenson in seventh grade. Jaron wished he could say it was all Brad’s fault, that Brad had beaten it out of him. But Jaron had been peeking a look at Brad in the locker room. Brad had a big dick and Jaron had thought that maybe if he didn’t deny he was looking, Brad would let Jaron touch him.

Boy, had that not gone the way Jaron had wanted it too.

Now Miranda was the biggest bitch on the planet. Although Jaron knew that was partially due to her liking Jackson. She was trying to show off for him. Honestly, the girl turned into the slut of the school the past couple years. The rumor was she had been with Travis Heath at some point last year. And if you slept with Travis Heath then you were automatically thought of as the slut of the century. The rumor was probably true, not that Jaron cared either way.

Jaron really couldn’t hold it against the girl though. He would gladly take the slut title if it meant he got to bone Travis Heath. He would even wear a princess sash with the word
slut
written on it in sparkling gold. Travis was the hottest boy in school. Although he knew it and strutted around the school which was sort of a turn off.

Jaron damn sure wasn’t going to show off for any boy like bitchy Miranda always did. He learned his lesson in seventh grade. Besides, flirting with the intent to bone Travis’ best friend, Jackson, was the sluttiest thing Miranda had ever done to date. Jaron wondered what she would do after she ran out of jocks. Spread her legs for the stoners, perhaps.

It wasn’t like Jaron had a boyfriend to show off for anyway. Brian, Jaron’s best friend, wanted to be his boyfriend. Jaron loved Brian. He really did, but Brian wanted to keep their relationship a secret and Jaron wasn’t willing to do that. In some ways, he was the reason Jaron was leaving after graduation. He just couldn’t breathe around Brian sometimes. He wanted so much from Jaron that he felt like he was under water and couldn’t break the surface.

Brian wasn’t the only reason he was leaving though. At least Brian loved him. His best friend was probably the only person who did in this town. Even his own mother never really gave him the time of day. She was too busy working to pay him any attention.

It wasn’t just the kids at school either. He was constantly getting shit everywhere he went in this town. Didn’t they know that if he could change one thing about himself, it would be his homosexuality? He didn’t like being the only openly gay person in the town. He felt like he drew the lottery ticket to his own lynching.

Being so different from everyone else sucked. All they saw were the differences and none of the things that made him just like them.

The bathroom was empty and he was able to do his business in peace. Luck was on his side today.

Well, luck was on his side until he walked out of the school’s front door. Jaron walked home after school every day. He didn’t mind so much, it was just lonely. However, loneliness was a reality he couldn’t run away from, not in this town at least. Today, the sidewalk outside the school had some chalk drawings. Big pink and yellow flowers painted the ground. It was super girly but also kind of cool, the chalk drawings were quite good. Jaron was looking at them, which was how he missed the foot that stuck out in his path. He instinctively tried to brace himself with his hands, which got scraped up on the pavement when he hit the ground. Blood started to pool on his palms.

“Stupid faggot. You should really watch where you’re going.” Brad smirked down at him, leaning forward on the bench he sat on. The bench was right outside the school’s main entrance. Jaron wasn’t sure why the bench was put in that spot, but it now served as his very own humiliation tool. Go him!

As boys went, Brad would have been good looking if not for his ugly attitude. He had hair so blond it was like looking at the sun and his eyes were blue. Even though his eyes were pretty they were like looking at fish eyes, which scared Jaron sometimes.

Jaron’s fear didn’t stop him from standing up for himself though. “Get your big ugly foot out of my way next time then, asshole.” Jaron couldn’t physically hurt the jock assholes that harassed him on a daily basis. Each of them had at least fifty pounds on him and several inches. Jaron was one of the shortest kids in his grade. Even as a senior, he was only five-foot-six, which meant most of the freshmen were bigger than him. He had resigned himself to the fact that he was always going to be a short, skinny guy. One thing Jaron did have, though, was a voice, and he used it, even though he got his ass kicked more than once for opening his big mouth.

When Brad stood up, Jaron took a couple steps back. He tensed, waiting for the first punch, but surprisingly enough it was Jackson who spoke up before Brad had a chance to hit him. “It was just an accident so chill out.”

“Accident? Brad did that on purpose. Stupid asshole.”

“What did you just say?” Brad said towering over Jaron. Great, a dozen people were going to watch as Jaron McAllister got his ass kicked right outside the school doors. Jaron tried not to let the tension in his body show. Sweat covered his brow as he stood up to Brad. Fear clogged his throat.

All eyes were on him now, even Travis Heath looked up from his make out session with Jennifer Swartz when all the commotion started. Jaron’s eyes locked with Travis for a moment before he looked away. Travis took a step toward the commotion as if to step in if needed.

“Let it go, Brad,” Jackson warned, pulling the other boy away from Jaron. Jaron chose that moment to get away. His fast walk turned into a run when he rounded the corner of the building. He didn’t stop running until he was closing the front door to his house.

Jaron walked out the back door of his house like he would if it were three o’clock in the afternoon instead of the middle of the night. He had as many changes of clothes as would fit in his backpack and all the money he had ever saved rolled up in one of the extra pair of socks he had packed. His mom wasn’t home to yell at him for sneaking out. Jaron didn’t think she would care that he left anyway. She hadn’t said a word to him in three days. Not that this was anything unusual. His mom was one of those people who could stay silent, and was comfortable doing so for days. Jaron wore black to blend into the dark as best as he could. After all, cops could stop him, ask him what he’s doing out so late. Pickleville just about shut down after ten at night like the apocalypse happened—who the hell named a town Pickleville, anyway? The police in this town would get suspicious and ask him questions he didn’t know how to articulate. Jaron made his way down the sidewalk in the dark, keeping an eye out.

Jaron had graduated last week. He was a week late in leaving this dumb ass town as it was, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. He stood outside Brian’s house for what seemed like hours, trying to get up the nerve to knock. This was it. He was really doing it.

The knock on Brian’s window sounded louder in the dark than it should have and he cringed at the harshness. After the knock it seemed the silence surrounded Jaron, proving how alone he was in the world, until Brian lifted the window. The wood scrapping against wood splintered the dark.

Jaron could see Brian’s face in the moonlight. Neither boy said anything for a long moment and the silence burned Jaron once again. “So this is it. You’re leaving,” Brian said through his teeth. Brian’s dark eyes narrowed making them look almost nonexistent in the faded moonlight.

“You could come with me. I have enough for us to live for a couple months.”

“You know I can’t. My dad would kill me. Besides, I already have a job this summer at his firm.” Brian’s dad owned an accounting firm in the neighboring town. His dad fully expected Brian to take over for him when the time was right. Jaron wanted to say Brian’s dad was a jerk who didn’t give Brian a say in his own life, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. Jaron wished his own mom gave a shit half as much as Brian’s dad did. He was a great father who would move heaven and earth for his son, including sending Brian to the best school possible and providing him with a job, if he wanted it. “You could stay.”

“Brian, we’ve had this conversation before.”

“You’re letting a couple high school dickheads push you out. Not everybody in this town feels the same way those assholes do.”

“No one stands up for me either. Including you. And besides, I’m doing what I want to do.”

“Please Jaron. I love you. We can get an apartment together. I’ll come out to everyone in town. Things will be different. I promise,” Brian pleaded, the longing in his eyes was nearly Jaron’s undoing.