A secret boyfriend never could be kept, but you could always try.

Your bedsheets dishevelled as you and Scott had your hands intertwined, lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Music played distinctly on a speaker that was low, homework being scattered at the end of the bed that was far from being finished.

A slam, and footsteps. You knew those footsteps.

Your Fathers.

You quickly disconnected from Scott’s soft and warm touch as you scrambled to open the closet door, telling him to get in. Once he did, you sat back on your bed quietly and grabbed a sheet of the homework, pretending to write stuff down as your bedroom door opened.