Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Will had asked if I wanted to ride together, but I’d said no. I regretted that decision now, because it would have been nice to have him by my side. I shook my head. God, why was I like this? Why did I need support to see my family? I couldn’t imagine what Dad would say if he saw me now.
I wished I didn’t care.
When I pulled up to the house, I breathed out a sigh of relief to see Will waiting for me by his car. Jameson wasn’t with him, probably because our family was a mess.
“Thanks,” I said as I approached, but without looking him in the eye. “For waiting.”
“No problem, big brother.” Will squeezed my bicep.
Nolan and Brad were already there as well, but I knew Brad’s wife was working, and I was pretty sure Nolan’s girlfriend was too. Brad would have Gracie with him, their baby. Mom helped watch her when both Brad and Chloe worked.
“You got this,” Will said, just before opening the door. Not for the first time, I was reminded how lucky I was to have him, and felt more guilt about how I’d treated him in the past.
Gracie was fussing when we went inside. Mom had her, holding her and shushing her.
“Hey, you’re here!” She smiled when she spotted Will and me.
“Hey, Mom.” Will kissed her cheek, then the baby.
“Hey.” I did the same.
“You got time for Will but not us, I see,” Brad said. Jesus, already.
“What are you even talking about?” I replied. “We met up at the door.”
“Is there something wrong with hanging out with me?” Will asked, and Brad’s eyes darted away; he was clearly feeling guilty.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“We just haven’t seen Jonathan or talked to him since he moved,” Nolan said.
“Oh…when was the last time you saw or heard from me?” Will countered, and I hated that they were going back and forth like this because of me.
“Stop. Christ, how old are we? We argue like a bunch of kids. I’m fucking over it.” The knots in my gut tightened even more. This wasn’t what family was supposed to be like…though hell, maybe it was.
“Language around little ears,” Mom added. “And your brother is right. We’re a family. It’s time we stop picking on each other and act like it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we all replied.
“Can I hold Grace?” Will asked, and Mom handed her over.
Things didn’t get much better after that.
We were at the table, Mom changing Grace, when Nolan mentioned, “I saw August the other day.”
August had been one of my good friends before I’d come out. He’d been the one who walked away soon after he found out. He tried for a while, but I’d heard him talking when we were all out one night, saying he didn’t feel the same about me, didn’t agree with my “lifestyle choice”—as if it were one. I left, and we never spoke again. “We don’t really talk anymore.” I took a bite, hoping that would be the end of it.
Brad said, “I don’t understand you. It’s like you’ve totally changed. You don’t hang out with us anymore. You’re bailing on your friends too. When you said you’re gay, you made a point in saying you’re the same person, but you’re not, man. I miss my brother.”
“Jesus Christ, Brad. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Will cursed.
“It’s fine.” I shook my head. I didn’t tell him August didn’t want anything to do with me because I was gay. I just said, “Guess I have changed.” I wasn’t willing to be apologetic and hide who I was anymore.
“Who’s ready for cake?” Mom asked when she entered the room. We all mumbled a quiet response. I didn’t know how to do this, didn’t know how to celebrate a man who taught me to hate who I was.
Tell them, played through my head. Though we’d spoken some when I came out, I didn’t tell them the extent of how bad things were with Dad and me. Didn’t tell them about the treehouse, or my art, or how he looked for signs in me that I was acting feminine.
“Sounds good to me,” I finally replied. “I need to get out of here soon anyway.”
Mom handed Grace to Brad and got the cake out of the fridge. We sang happy birthday to the man whose respect I’d worked so hard for my whole life…the man who would hate who I was.
“Your father loved you…so much.”
Bile threatened to climb up my throat, but I bit it down. “I loved him too,” I answered honestly.
I made my excuses and left right after cake. Will did the same, asking if I was okay when we got to the street.
“Yeah, fine. Just feels weird, is all,” I replied, got in my car, and left.
When I got home, Danny smiled at me from the couch. He patted the cushion beside him. “Where were you?”