From the Inside Out

by Talya Andor

  "Shut up about things you don't know anything about." Cassie dumped a plate of eggs onto the table.

  "Well, she was!"

  "I'd better go get ready," Soren said, ruffling Morgan's hair. His morning had taken a distinct turn for the strange.

  His parents' bedroom door was shut as he passed it for the stairs. The burn of apprehension was still sharp in his chest, stifling Soren every time he thought of how quickly his mom had left the kitchen.

  Angie caught his eye on the second floor, moving fast for the stairs. "You made it," she said, passing him, then grabbed the banister and stopped herself. "Soren? What's wrong?"

  "I'll tell you later," he muttered, and retreated into his bedroom.

  Once he reached his room, he forced himself through the motions of getting ready, packing the only text and notebook he needed for the day, even as he wished himself back to a bedroom that was slowly filling with light while the comfort of arms surrounded him, and breath stirred his nape. Dealing with his parents, his family, was a part of it, though. In being with Lucas, there was still part of Soren's life that wasn't complete unless he admitted it to the people whose opinions mattered the most.

  Soren stuffed a change of clothes into his book-bag and thought about showering.

  A knock sounded on his door.

  Soren closed his eyes. "Come in," he said, and realized as the door opened that this time Claire had waited for an invitation, and might do so from now on.

  Claire's hair was twisted up into a perfect chignon on her head and her makeup had been restored to flawlessness, though her eyes looked red and watery.

  "Mom," he said, concerned, but stayed where he was, shifting his weight.

  "I don't understand," she began, as he'd known she would. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Can I sit?"

  Wordless, Soren gestured.

  Claire crossed the room and sat down on his bed. "So you…you think you're gay? Is that it?"

  With a sigh, Soren sank down onto the bed beside her. His fingers twitched with the nervous urge to plait together, and he held back a smile when he realized his mother was already doing so. "It's not that I think I'm gay. I am gay."

  Claire shook her head. "But…how long has this been going on?"

  Soren swallowed as he thought of the times he would furtively watch the backsides of other boys in the showers, watch the way their dicks swung between their legs out of the corner of his eye, then thought of dance classes and getting tied up and breathless inside over the flex and play of buttocks beneath jazz tights and he knew he couldn't articulate any of it. "I've always been gay. But this is the first time I've had a boyfriend." This is the first time I've had the courage to do anything about it. Because of the church telling me it was wrong, and because I was scared of this conversation we're having right now.

  His mother had a strained, indecisive look on her face.

  "You still have four other straight kids," Soren said, his mouth curving, not quite a smile. "If you're worried about grandkids I'm sure Rick—"

  "You're my oldest, Soren!" Claire burst out, her hand flying up to her mouth. She shook her head and folded her hands together. "I'm not even thinking about grandchildren right now. Lord knows you're all too young. But…I just don't think… Why…how could this happen? Did I—"

  Soren shook his head, frustration welling up in place of anxiety. "It's not anything you did. Geez, Mom, listen to yourself. I'm just gay. I'm still the same person, Mom, but you didn't realize I was gay, before."

  She paused, working through that. "Maybe…maybe I wondered."

  Soren smiled at her. "And that's why you pushed me at Liz, then at Sloane. Because you didn't want it to be true."

  "Well, can you blame me?" she said, color rising in her face. Her hands smoothed down her navy skirt lap before she folded them together again. "Wondering what I did, wanting you to…to have a normal life. I want what's best for you… And it's different…it's different suspecting, and then having your baby boy come home and tell you he's dating—that it's another boy."

  Soren realized he was clenching his jaw and tried to relax. "I'm not your baby boy," he said, ready to work himself up to an argument.

  "Maybe not, but that little boy is always here." She shook her head and summoned up a smile, albeit a watery one. "So…are you bringing him to meet us?"

  "You—you mean it?"

  "Well, I don't think I can convince you not to be gay, can I?" Her smile had an edge to it now, she was trying. "I couldn't convince you to date Sloane so I don't think I can convince you not to date this boy."

  "His name is Lucas," Soren murmured. "Lucas Daye." He tried not to smile, but it spread across his face anyhow.

  Claire was eyeing him, head tilted to the side. "You…" She shook herself again, as if startling from a daze. "I want to meet him."

  "Mom?" Soren said, now more than a bit dismayed. "Um…" He thought back to when Lucas had assured him he'd be there for him, that he would come to meet his parents, but couldn't help but think it was awfully soon. Then again, whenever Angie or Cassie had gone out, his parents had met their prospective dates first thing. Lucas had already gotten a 'pass' so far.

  "For dinner," Claire clarified. She sniffed, and rubbed at her nose with the back of one hand. She scrubbed briskly at her thighs and stood. "We can do it tonight…I'll get Angie and Cassie to take Morgan and Rick out for dinner and maybe a matinee show."

  "On a week night?" The conversation had spun quickly out of his control.

  "Well, you're already dating this boy, aren't you?" Claire said, giving him a look that transformed him into a child with his transgressions laid out before her. "That's unfair, Soren. You sprang this on me without any warning…" She scrubbed at her nose again, the way she did when her allergies gave her trouble.

  "I'm sorry if my being gay bothers you," Soren said, rising to his feet.

  "Oh…" Claire turned back to him, and stopped short of giving him a perfumed hug. "That's not…I mean…" Her smile crumbled around the edges. "I'm sorry, honey. You're going to have to give me some time."

  Soren was silent. He didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't trust himself to say anything.

  "I'll see you tonight. I'll make all the arrangements…I want you home no matter what tonight, Soren."

  "All right." That was fair. The door clicked shut gently behind her.

  Now, as long as he could get Lucas to go along with it, everything would work out. He hoped.

  He took a quick shower. Showering before work always seemed a pointless venture. Soren knew he was going to want to climb right back in after work, but he deposited himself in the front seat of their Subaru Outback clean-scrubbed and ready to go in for his shift. His sisters and brother were already piled in the back.

  "There Mom goes," Ricky observed as they all pulled away from the house. "Sorri, what did you say to her? She looks pretty upset—ow!" He shut up upon receiving an elbow from both sisters on either side of him.

  "Shut up, Ricky," Cassie said in a pleasant tone.

  "And don't ever call me Sorri again, Ricky." Soren added.

  Soren could feel Angie glancing at him sidelong, but ignored it. There had been a decent span of time in between his shower and all of them climbing into the car for departure, and he wondered how much Claire had revealed to Angie. Overall, though, coming out had been the easiest way to avoid the fallout for staying out the past two nights. Everything had changed.

  They drove through suburban neighborhoods and dropped Cassie and Morgan off at high school, then Ricky at his junior high.

  "So," Angie said, drumming the steering wheel with her fingers as they paused at a street light near St Johns. "You gonna need the car tonight, Soren?"

  Soren jerked his thoughts from a retrospective of Lucas's naked body and hauled himself back to the present. "Uh, no." He contemplated dinner and Lucas and his parents all in the same night, and wanted to shake his head. They were pulling up to a stop outside the store. As Soren was
half out the door, Angie hit him with the question.

  "So…Soren, that boy from yesterday…" Angie called, leaning toward the open door.

  "Huh? Lucas? What about him?"

  "Is he your boyfriend?"

  Soren blinked at her, then snorted. Girls…he would have to ask Morgan next if she knew too. "Yes."

  Angie's smile lit up her face, transforming it from solemn to lovely. "It's about time!" She began to laugh, and Soren slammed the door on her.

  "Great," he muttered to himself, heading for the store, nearly tripping on the curb. "So everyone knows I'm gay. This wasn't so hard, after all."

  *~*~*

  The clouds had broken. The frost from earlier had long since melted, and the sun beat down in renewed good weather. In the St. Johns Starbucks, custom was slow at a quarter till ten, past the morning rush and well before the noon one. Soren finished wiping up the mess from his latest Frappuccino debacle, which involved the end of Blender Two's tour of duty. He threw the soaked towel at Lucas, who was laughing.

  "Oh, shut up, I'd like to see you try something like that!" Soren said. He might have been able to join Lucas in laughing if it hadn't been his own situation. "Both my parents…and my two eldest sisters…"

  "Angie's the one I met yesterday, right?" Lucas said. He'd caught the towel and he slung it into the sink. "The one who looks a lot like you."

  "Yeah," Soren said warily. People had said they looked alike before, even if Soren didn't quite see it.

  "I thought she looked at me with something extra special in her eyes." Lucas leered. "Now I know what that was. You're just surrounded with perceptive women, Soren."

  "All except for my mom."

  Their departing first-shift barista, Jason, pushed through the back door with a snort of disgust. He was a short, dark Japanese boy with cropped black hair and a friendly pug face. On his way out, he called to them, "Good luck with him, guys. He is in one foul mood today."

  "Since when is that news?" Lucas leaned back from the register and folding his arms.

  "He made me key myself into the bottom till," Soren muttered, tossing the last sodden towel into the sink by the blenders. "He should've done that himself when he got in this morning. I never cashier."

  "Can't say 'never' anymore, then. Everyone knows you're best on the bar, though. I wonder why he did that."

  Soren leaned against the counter by the central percolators. "Good thing he's still reading up on his Vonnegut," he said, looking around the empty store. "Gives us some time to ourselves." They had reached the slow time of week, when the store could get away with having only three people on duty until the noon hour. Usually a member of management was a fourth person on top of that, but Michelle was working a closing shift that day.

  "Damned graduate twenty-somethings." Lucas gave Soren an arch look. "Why, Soren, what did you have in mind? Did you want to get up to mischief in this nice, empty store?" He grinned and made a long arm, capturing Soren's apron-strings and tugging, forcing him to take the few steps that separated them.

  Soren held up his hand between them. "Sex on the counter tops is out of the question."

  Lucas gave him a hurt look. "Did I say that? No, you said that. Pervert." He grinned, but released him.

  Shaking his head, Soren took a step back. "You're unbelievable. I didn't get to finish telling you, but after I talked to my mom, she invited us for dinner tonight. Well, it's more of a command performance, but you get the idea."

  "Uh, tonight?" Lucas crossed his arms, leaning back against the register. He winced as he made a close encounter with the corner, then shifted away from Soren to the counter to prop his butt on that instead. "I…I don't know, I still have a lot of homework, I've got a quadruple whammy and a two-hour morning class tomorrow…"

  "What are you talking about?" Soren tilted his head, feeling uneasy at the expression on Lucas's face.

  "And I have a class tonight, a late one…it doesn't get out until five-fifteen."

  "Since when has something like that stopped you from doing what you want? I mean, we went out clubbing last night, didn't we?"

  Now Lucas looked at him, and a distinctly uncomfortable expression crossed his face. "That was different."

  "Yeah…it was different because that was something you wanted. But meeting my parents…you said you'd do that too!"

  Lucas turned away from him, ducking to look inside the pastry case. "Well, I didn't say when."

  Soren was at a loss. He stared, trying to reconcile this Lucas with the one who had been smiling and laughing a moment before. "Lucas," he began, but stopped, pressing his mouth in a hard line.

  The front door to the store jangled open, and a group of men and one woman in business suits poured through the door. "Thank God, a Starbucks," the woman exclaimed. "Where Starbucks is, is civilization, no matter the other outward appearances…"

  "Come on, now, we've got to hurry up and get back on track," said one of the men, rubbing his hands together and peering up at the menu. "We're going to be late."

  Silently, Soren moved back to the bar, turning away so that he wouldn't have to look at Lucas. This was ridiculous. He could understand if it were Lucas's parents, and Lucas wasn't ready to come out. But meeting Soren's parents shouldn't be such a big deal, should it?

  "Can I start a drink for you?" he called over the counter to the young woman in the brown suit, who was edging closer to the counter with an indecisive look.

  She pursed her lips. "I'll have a non-fat caramel macchiato, give me a grande."

  Soren reached for the cup and ended up pulling five, for the rest of the drinks. He started the espresso on the grind again. To his dismay, the first man paid for the entire order which left Lucas with idle hands.

  "Here, let me help," Lucas said, sidling in to steam another pitcher of milk.

  "I don't want your help," Soren snapped, blocking him, starting the pitcher himself and reaching for a pair of finished shots with the other hand. "Go do…whatever, just don't do it near me."

  Lucas retreated with raised hands.

  "Grande nonfat caramel macchiato. Double grande latte." Soren lined them up. Three to go. He wasn't going to look at Lucas. He finished off the milk, twisted the steam wand off, and started another pair of espresso shots, shifting two more labeled cups onto the counter from the top of the bar. He was not going to look at Lucas. "Grande mocha. Decaf grande six-pump nonfat hazelnut latte." One to go.

  When the suits were gone, he concentrated on mopping up the espresso bar and the line of steamed milk that had leaked over the edge of a pitcher.

  "Soren—" Lucas began.

  Soren's eye flicked to the farthest edge of his peripheral vision. Even though the decaf espresso was nearly half full, he reached out and flicked the grinder on. Then, for good measure, he flipped the regular on as well. The resulting buzz of the grinders was deafening enough to drown out conversation.

  "Oh, for crying out loud—" Lucas started for him. Behind Soren, the shrill timer on one of the coffee urns went off. He saw Lucas square his shoulders from the very edge of his vision, then turn to deal with it.

  "Ahh sonuvab—nng!" The rattle and clang of metal hitting metal was followed by a meaty thump that Soren could hear even over the sound of the grinders. He flipped the grinders off and rushed around the espresso bar, panic making him faster.

  "Lucas!" The big square coffee urn had dropped into the sink, and Lucas stood beside it with a hand tucked against his chest. Soren righted the big square urn by its rubber-insulated handles. "What the hell?"

  Lucas hissed, switching cold water on in the sink with his left hand and cradling his red right hand beneath the stream. "What does it look like?" he said between clenched teeth.

  "Like you spilled hot coffee on your hand." Soren carried the urn away from Lucas over to the other sink. He glanced at the timer. They'd have to brew fresh decaf, but only once Lucas's hand was taken care of.

  "Got it in one."

  Soren had thought he was more li
kely to get careless enough to hurt himself when he was upset. "I'll go get the burn kit." He supposed Aaron would have to hear about this too, if Lucas's burn was bad enough.

  "No…wait…" Lucas grasped at him with his damp left hand, and Soren slipped right out of his wet fingers. "Dammit. Ah, hell…"

  "I'll be right back." Soren hurried into the back. He snorted softly to himself as he found the burn kit. "Idiot."

  When he returned, Lucas was still sticking his hand under the cold water, wiggling each finger in turn with a concentrated look. He looked up, his face unreadable.

  "You didn't have to burn yourself to prove you were sorry," Soren said, holding out his hand for Lucas's and picking up a clean towel. He patted the injured hand dry, inspecting the reddened skin. "Or maybe to get yourself out of dinner for sure?" He ripped open the burn gel packet and began spreading it over the skin in liberal amounts, studiously avoiding Lucas's eyes.

  Lucas hissed in pain again.

  "Sorry," Soren said, glancing at him now. "I just…you know what, forget it."

  "I am sorry," Lucas said, eyes pleading.

  "Sorry you won't come meet my parents, or sorry I'm upset about it? You know what, forget it."

  "Soren, I don't—"

  "We shouldn't talk about this at work," Soren told him. "But, you know, you said—" He cut himself off as Lucas's eyes went beyond him to the door.

  "What's going on here?" Aaron demanded, walking out into the front area. He looked at the burn kit.

  "It's under control," Lucas said, but he stepped back, still cradling his right hand.

  Aaron advanced up the service island, his quick eyes scanning over the counters, the pastry case, Lucas's stiff-backed position, and the empty shop. "Wilkenson, take your break."

  With a shrug, Soren collected the burn kit and mouthed 'later' over Aaron's shoulder.

  Lucas's faint smile wasn't encouraging enough.

  *~*~*

  Hurling a phone across the room had never been so tempting. Lucas growled and made a mock throw, but dropped his cell phone onto the couch beside him instead. He wasn't sure by this point who he was angrier at.