by M. A. Hinkle
I pressed one hand against my face, hiding my expression. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until I was done with high school.
“Jesus, Dad.” My voice was shaking—I was shaking. “I want you to talk to me like I’m your son, not one of your fucking colleagues. Morgan can do the whole genteel air of academic remove, but I can’t, okay? I’m loud and messy, and I can’t keep my mouth shut, and I wish I could be myself for two seconds without you staring at me like I’m a fucking mistake.”
I scrubbed my hand against my eyes. “I said shit about Morgan because your opinion matters to him. One wrong step and he’ll call the whole thing off and go back to making himself miserable. I mean—” I made myself stop. I was talking to Trevor, not Felix.
But—I’d say this for him. If he wanted you to answer a question, you were going to answer the question. He taught me all the tricks I used on Felix. “You mean…”
I slumped over my knees. “I mean I figured out I was gay when I was twelve. I like that about myself. It’s important to me. But I’ve never told you because I was scared of what you’d do. Or because you wouldn’t care.”
My father’s lips parted. I could almost see him rearranging beads on the abacus in his head.
“See, this is what I was talking about.” My voice was still flat. “You have no idea what to think. If you do this to Morgan, he’ll lose it. And his happiness is the only good thing about the past couple months. I just…want to make sure he stays that way.”
Trevor didn’t speak.
Then he got up from behind his desk and knelt in front of me, at my level. He hadn’t put his glasses back on, so I could see his eyes—and they really were here with me. Not drafting a paper, not reviewing the text of a book written 500 years ago.
I met his eyes, frowning, and my father stared back at me evenly. “Gareth. I don’t know if you’ll believe me when I say this, but I am being as sincere as I can. I’m not—” He laced his fingers together, studying his hands. “I’m not eloquent. I’ve never been good at saying how I feel. But it’s clear to me how I’ve been complacent for too long, and I’ve wronged you by being so. I want you to know how sorry I am. You…you and your mother are so much alike, and you don’t even know it.”
I narrowed my eyes. My memories weren’t perfect, but his words didn’t feel true. When she walked into a room, everyone turned to watch, and not because she’d knocked over a table of appetizers.
Not to mention… he wanted to bring Mom up now? After literally years of me trying and failing to talk about her? Not even in a jerk way. Simple things—don’t get rid of the vase; it was her favorite. Or we should do something nice for her birthday. Or I miss her so much it is destroying me, and you don’t give a shit.
Trevor continued before I could figure out how to respond. “I know you don’t understand. Having the two of you changed her. It changed both of us. But when we were younger, she was—”
It was the first time he ever failed to finish a sentence.
He turned his face away. When he did speak, his voice was softer. “She couldn’t keep quiet, especially when someone else needed her. And she never backed down from a challenge, even when it would have been wiser. She cared so much and so deeply for everyone around her, but she had a hard time expressing it. And…”
He turned back to me. “I’ve done so badly by you, Gareth. At first, seeing past my own feelings was impossible, and then, once things settled down, I thought keeping my distance was better. You two had each other. I thought it was enough. But I should have been there for you. I can’t make up for lost time, but I will do better. I will be better. All I ask is for you be honest with me. Now, tell me truly. What’s the matter? Not in general, and not with Morgan. I would appreciate it if you kept the expletives to a minimum, but I’d understand.”
And the fuck of it was…I told him. The whole sad, stupid story.
I didn’t want to. But he could have waited for me all night. And—fuck, I hadn’t told anyone the truth. I’d been keeping it from Morgan and Felix and even from myself for so long that it all came spilling out.
I told him how distant I’d felt from Morgan these past few months, even as he got to be a better person. How shitty I felt about myself. How I’d enjoyed the play but didn’t know how to handle my enjoyment.
And, of course, I told him about Felix, because I was staring at the cruddy bookcase, but I was thinking how Felix would never talk to me again. It didn’t matter if everyone knew now. I’d put myself out there, and it had blown up in my face, just as I’d always known it would.
The whole time, my father watched my face with an unwavering gaze and a neutral expression worthy of Morgan’s therapist. When I finished, I glanced away, not wanting to admit I’d said everything out loud—and to my dad, who’d never met an emotional moment he couldn’t blunder through.
He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing as he stretched. “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you. You’ve been struggling, and you didn’t think you had anywhere to turn. I didn’t expect you to turn to me. But I hope you will, now. And I hope things work out with this boy. He’s a nice young man.”
I hid my face to give myself a chance to figure out what the fuck was going on in my head. “He is nice, which is the problem. I’m not.”
“You need to give yourself more credit, Gar. It’s not easy at your age—you experience many conflicting messages.” Okay, now he was talking like a PSA, but whatever. He was trying. “Can I bring your brother back inside, or do you need a few minutes?”
“S’okay,” I said, propping my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. “He’s been out there the whole time anyway.”
“I’m well aware of your brother’s bad habit of listening at doors,” he said, turning to it. “You can come in now, Morgan.” But he kept sitting on the edge of his desk, as if he wasn’t allergic to the idea of cool.
I could have made a joke about my dad finally joining the 21st century, but I didn’t feel up to it.
AS IT TURNED out, we still got grounded. Or, at least, my dad didn’t want us throwing any more parties, and he had to think about whether or not we’d get to go to Felix’s band practice. Now the play was over, the band was our only extracurricular. He also decided to let a TA handle the rest of his lectures for the semester.
It could have been worse. It wasn’t like I was going to band practice.
MORGAN DIDN’T CONTRIBUTE much to the conversation, and neither did I, so Dad sent us away after only about ten minutes.
As we made our way back to our room, I hooked my thumbs in my pockets. Morgan had heard everything—everything. If I hurried, I could deflect him. “I think we got off okay. Especially since he hasn’t figured out he can change the Wi-Fi password.” I tried to keep my voice light, but I never would have gotten cast.
The play was the last thing I wanted to think about. I dropped my eyes, my words drying up.
Morgan stopped at the door to our room and turned to me. “I want to thank you. For the way you stood up for me in there. You…” He leaned against the wall and pushed his hands through his hair. “I’ve been afraid to tell Father because it’s scary enough without having to try to explain it to him. Even if I knew one hundred percent what was going on, and I knew one hundred percent he’d understand perfectly and not judge me, it’d still be scary. I didn’t realize it, but you were right. This is good, and I need him to be happy for me. If he can’t, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
I leaned against the wall beside him. I wanted to go to bed and stay there for about twenty years, but I had to make sure he was all right first. “You’re gonna get this sorted out. You know that, right?”
He let out a long, slow breath and closed his eyes. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him truly, completely relaxed without his violin in hand, but this was…within shouting distance. “I know it better than I did before. You were also right about spending time with Felix and his friends. I feel more…okay around them. This is the first time I c
an think about life after high school and not have a panic attack. Like I won’t feel this way forever. I’ll know who I am. It’ll come to me.”
I took a breath in and let it out myself, and it helped. “Good, because you’re about the only thing that doesn’t suck these days.”
Morgan studied me. “So when were you going to tell me you had the crush on Felix?”
“Never, and we’re not going to talk about it now.” I went into our room. “He had a thing for you, not me. It’s another bad decision, and I’m trying to break this streak, so we’re going to leave it there.”
I sat at my computer, but Morgan sat on the edge of my desk, frowning. He seemed so much steadier—Morgan had always been good at standing still, but only in panic, a rabbit freezing when it saw a hawk. Now, he was poised, as if any moment he’d put bow to string and make an audience cry ugly tears.
“I don’t understand why you think it’s a bad decision.” His tone was deliberately casual. “Felix is nice, and the two of you get along well when you’re not sabotaging yourself. You did kind of dump it on him, and he panics pretty easily.” I opened Dragon Age, but Morgan didn’t take it personally. “I know you won’t talk to him. But I love you, and he brings out the best in you.”
He turned away, which was the only reason I could talk. “Hey. Morgan.” I kept my gaze fixed on my monitor. “You were right. About me doing stupid shit to protect you. It was…it was too scary to try and get my shit together. I didn’t want to fail. But I already did, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
Morgan sighed. “You didn’t fail. And you did help me. I couldn’t have made it through our old school without you. I want…I want everybody to see this side of you. I know you’re scared—I know all about being scared. But I also know you can get past it.”
I nodded without answering. Because he was a good twin, Morgan patted my shoulder and let me bury myself in romancing Iron Bull for the millionth time.
ON MONDAY, I walked to school so I’d get there as the warning bell rang for first period. I ate my lunch out on the grass rather than the steps, in case anyone came hunting for me in my usual spot. And when eighth hour rolled around, I wandered around the hallways. Therefore, I could claim I was taking a long and circuitous route to the bathrooms. I’d still get in trouble, but detention wouldn’t be a big deal. They held it after school, so I could claim I was doing a class project, and Dad would never know the difference.
And even if he did, what did it matter?
But I was definitely not moping. Nope. Everything had turned out well. Morgan felt secure and supported. There was a little over a month left of classes, and then I could spend summer with my old friends. Get swept up in a whirlwind Grease-style romance, where I’d meet some cute jerk who’d help me forget all about Felix.
Sure. Absolutely.
I was trying to decide how to spin the entire adventure when I turned a corner and almost walked into Felix.
He didn’t reel back; he studied me the way he had when I listened to his song. Like he was on the verge of understanding something complicated. “You weren’t in the library.”
“Yes, well, I’m on the lookout for trouble.” I slouched so it wouldn’t seem like I was avoiding his eyes. Which I was. They were just so goddamn blue. “And you’re the opposite of trouble, so you should go back before both of us get caught.”
Felix shook his head, his eyes still fixed on my face. “We won’t get in trouble if you’re with me. I can say you’re coming to help me practice. Anyway, someone will only come out to check if one of us gets loud. I want to talk to you, and I can’t promise I won’t get loud, so you should come with me to the practice rooms, and we can hash this out without having to worry about it.”
I planned to respond with something suitably tough, but what I said was, “You’re being awfully ruthless for a kid who couldn’t even drop the f-bomb without immediately apologizing,” because…Saturday didn’t matter. Talking to him felt good.
Felix ruined his tough-guy expression by blushing, though he didn’t back down. “I asked Sarah for advice. No one gives her crap. But that’s not the point. Are you coming or not? Because I’m not letting you walk away until you answer my questions, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want a teacher overhearing.”
I thought about banging my fist into a locker to end it before it began.
But I owed Felix better. Morgan was right—I had dropped everything on him, even if we’d had a heart-to-heart talk right before. And…I wanted to spend more time with him. Never mind he wasn’t interested.
So I gestured for him to lead. Solo ensemble was in two weeks, so only one practice room was empty. Felix pointed for me to go in first. It wasn’t intimidating. It reminded me of those videos where baby lions learn to roar.
I leaned against the wall as he shut the door and made sure it was locked. Then he turned to me. After a moment, he lost his nerve. “Can you sit down? Please? Staring up at you the whole time is going to hurt my neck.”
I sat on one of the stools, leaning over my knees. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” He shifted his weight. “So. Uh. What happened with your dad after you kicked everybody out?”
“We’re grounded, I guess. Means Morgan can’t come to band practice, but I assume he already told you. He didn’t restrict Skype privileges, so you guys could still do it over webcam or something.”
Felix made a face. I wasn’t sure if it was my disinterested tone or the idea of band practice over the internet. “So he’s not mad at you?”
I fixed one of the safety pins on my jacket. “I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell with him, but I guess we had a family bonding moment. I came out and shit.”
“Would you quit it?” Felix said, leaning down and putting his face too close to mine.
Spinning the stool around to get away from him would be childish, but I still considered it. “Quit what? I’m answering your questions.”
Felix scowled. Then he pulled the second stool in the room over so he could sit beside me, close enough so I couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Sarah’s dad is a lawyer, so I know the difference between following the letter of the law and the spirit. And I also know you can talk about feelings. So why won’t you? I was trying to ease you into actually. You know. Talking. But it’s clear you aren’t down with it. I just don’t understand why.”
“What’s there to understand?” I glared at the far wall instead of him because I didn’t want to scare him away, no matter how much my jerk brain insisted otherwise. “I’m trying to salvage some pride here.”
“How is your pride at stake? Oh no, you have to talk about your feelings.”
“Feelings aren’t punk.” I resisted the urge to hunch up my shoulders like a crabby turtle.
“Feelings are totally punk, and don’t you dare try and pretend otherwise. I’m the one in a band, so I’m the one who knows.” I glanced at him, surprised by his vehemence. Felix blushed. “I didn’t mean to be snippy. But you’ve been avoiding me all day, and now you’re doing this. I want you to be real with me for once, okay? I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I…I talked to my dad and I talked to Cathal and I talked to my friends, but it didn’t help. Not the way you did.”
The worst part was the plaintive note to his voice. “There’s nothing to be real about. I’m giving you an excuse to not have to let me down easy or whatever.”
“You think I want to turn you down?” He sounded as baffled as if I’d spoken in Welsh.
I fought the urge to sigh long and hard enough for my spirit to leave my body. “Yeah, Felix, I do. It was pretty obvious what you thought the other night. But it’s no big deal. I’ll keep being me, you’ll keep being you, it’ll all be fine and cool.”
“And so we’ll pretend none of this ever happened?” Felix said, his voice only just not an outraged Minnie Mouse squeak. “I—” He bit his lower lip so hard it turned white, and one hand restlessly tapped the opposite elbow. He got to his feet, but he wouldn’t look a
t me. “I thought it meant something to you.”
How did he always know exactly what to say to cut through the bullshit? “Of course it did.”
“So prove it.” Felix’s voice was shaking. “Or I’m walking out, and you can go ahead and live your life however the heck you want. I only came to talk to you because I thought maybe you’d stop hiding, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Felix.” His eyes flicked to mine, though he didn’t relax. “Come here?” I made sure it was a question, so he could say no.
“Why?” It hurt, even though I deserved it.
But maybe I was making up for it. “Because you said you didn’t want to strain your neck, so I’m not standing up. Therefore, you have to come over here.”
Felix frowned, but he walked over, studying me the way I was beginning to understand he always did: like I was a Magic Eye puzzle, and he was trying to get the hidden image to snap into focus. “I could hear you fine over there. The acoustics in these rooms are great.”
“Yes, but not the point.” Before he could ask me what the point was, I held out my hands. Felix’s expression didn’t change, but he put his hands into mine. “Why do you always follow my lead, anyway? You know I don’t know where I’m going.”
“As if I know. And I’m not following you, I’m going in the same direction.” I watched him steadily, waiting for the rest. He frowned down at our joined hands. “I told you, I feel safe with you. I keep coming back to that, even if I don’t get why.”
I ran my thumb over his palm. “I feel safe with you too. I wanted to tell you the other day, but I didn’t get a chance. I’m just…not very good at showing it. But I really do—” I stopped myself. “Okay, fine, proving it. No bullshit, no filter. And this is not what you want to hear, but you asked, so…”
I swallowed. “I feel—relaxed with you, but I don’t know how to relax. I’ve spent so goddamn long waiting for the world to punch me in the face. Then I started spending time with you, and it felt good, even though I thought you were only trying to get to Morgan. I still don’t have a chance, but I am so tired of pretending I don’t care. That looking at you doesn’t make my heart split open. I guess it doesn’t make a difference, but—you’re a really great person, Felix. Please don’t change.”