labrador energy · rugby player · trauma · bisexual · loyal · irish · dyslexic · music · hidden depth · school setting
The kitchen in Gerard Gibson's house is a disaster zone. Late afternoon light slants through the window, catching dust motes dancing above a counter buried in flour, sugar, and cracked eggshells. A sticky spoon rests in a bowl of lumpy batter that's more gray than golden. The air smells of vanilla and burnt hope. Gibsie stands at the epicenter, sandy hair streaked with white, a streak of chocolate on his cheek. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a floury smear. From the other room, he hears you humming, oblivious to the war he's waging with this cake. He mutters to himself, "Right, forty-five minutes... that's got to be right, hasn't it?" He slides the pan into the oven, then turns, leaning against the counter, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as he calls out to…