by Finn
“True. It would be rude of me to leave beforehand,” I said with a forced chuckle, still trying to get rid of the anger I was feeling toward Leroy.
I was not going to let his actions ruin who I was.
“Very,” Blaire said with a small laugh, and we both got out of the car and headed toward her house.
*
“You forgot your toothbrush,” Blaire’s voice drifted through my phone as I sat in my car, looking at my house.
It seemed bigger than I remembered. Or I just felt smaller—I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of, though, was how terrified I was. It was evident in the shaking of my hands and the churning of my stomach. It was like a damn rollercoaster in there.
I had hoped my moment in the car with Blaire and the dinner with her family would have, at least, made this less daunting.
I was wrong. But I wasn’t going to turn away. Blaire was right—I was normal. Not everyone was like Leroy. My parents were not like Leroy.
This was my home. They wouldn’t turn away from me.
“Did you have to ring me and tell me that? Couldn’t you have just brought it to school tomorrow?” I asked.
“Well, yeah… but I wanted to say good luck.”
“You already did.”
“Sorry for wanting to say it again, you dick.”
I could tell that Blaire had rolled her eyes at me or titled her head back and silently cursed at the ceiling. They were her signature moves, Afterall.
“Thank you, Blaire. I really appreciate you,” I said with a smile on my face.
Honestly, without Blaire, I have no idea what I would have done.
“You’d better. Now, go and get them. Text me with the details on how it goes.”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I assured before we both said goodbye and hung up. “Alright, Pete. You can do this. Deep breaths.”
Not surprisingly, telling myself to take deep breaths did fuck all, and I continued to sit in my car taking quick, sharp breaths, feeling my heart play some dance music on my ribs. If I weren’t so nervous about what I was going to do, I probably would have jigged my leg at the beat it was making. Then again, it wouldn’t be beating so fast if I wasn’t anxious.
It was safe to say, I was slowly going insane, watching the shadows of my family dance within the lights of my house, and I decided it was now or never.
Slowly opening my door and grabbing the bag I had filled with all the stuff I’d taken to Blaire’s, along with my school bag, I slipped out of my car. Stepping into the fresh night air, I shivered slightly as it slithered over my skin.
I softly closed the door behind me, trying to make as little noise as possible. I’d rather not have my family peer out into the driveway and watch me awkwardly walk up to the front door, most probably tripping over my feet because I would definitely forget how to walk correctly with them watching me. Hell, I could barely walk properly without people watching me.
Continuing to try and catch my breath, I began walking toward my house. My home.
I should never have questioned that in the first place. I should never have thought my parents wouldn’t accept me. I had spent all my teenage years telling myself that they wouldn’t care, but at the moment that it mattered most, I couldn’t seem to believe that.
I knew better now.
It didn’t take long before I was standing before the front door, my heart rhythmically beating in my chest, causing my stomach to dance around hectically. I really wish it had taken another year to walk to the front door, but here I was, and I was more anxious now than I had ever been.
I couldn’t hear anything from inside the house. No voices, no music, no television. The only sound that graced my ears was my own shaky breaths and the overwhelming tunes of my blood rushing through me.
“Like a band-aid,” I muttered to myself as I placed my finger on the doorbell and heard it faintly echo through the house.
For a moment, only silence followed it. Though as I kept listening, the faded sound of footsteps greeted me. Slowly getting closer, and soon, I could see the shadow of someone through the paned glass before the door opened and I was flooded with light.
My heart seemed to have stopped as I looked at my mother standing in the doorway, a nightgown draped on her and an unimpressed look on her face. However, the look quickly changed as she saw my face, and one that eased all of my worries replaced it.
It was warm and filled with love, and it was clear to me almost instantly that I was welcome.
“Peter,” she managed to say after a few moments.
“Hi,” I muttered, trying my best to keep myself together. “Can I come in?”
“Of course, honey. You don’t need to ask,” my mum said, quickly moving aside, making room for me to pass.
“I just thought…” I said quietly, trailing off as I slipped past her and into the house, feeling the warmth it had to offer.
“What’s in the bigger bag?” Mum asked, closing the door behind me, and I turned back around to look at her.
“My things,” I replied slowly.
There was still a large part of me that was scared I wasn’t welcome back home and even as I looked into the loving eyes of my mother, I couldn’t stop that part of me being pushed to the front of my mind.
“Does this mean…?” my mum started to ask, but couldn’t seem to get the words out, and I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get them out either.
I only saw the flash of a smile before I was pulled into a tight hug, and I could feel slight tremors running through my mum’s body.
“I missed you so much,” my mum whispered into my ear, her voice cracking as she spoke.
“I missed you, too,” I whispered back, trying to hold back my own tears.
The ebbing feeling of something horrible happening, and the anxious feeling that came with it, slowly began to fade, as I fell further into my mums embrace.
“I’m so, so sorry, Pete,” mum started to say, but I cut her off, pulling myself away from her.
“Don’t be.”
“I probably never made it easy for you. And when I saw the video, I wanted to run to you and tell you how proud I am, and how much I love you. Then Brad said you wanted space and—” Mum cut herself off, looking at me with tears in her eyes.
“Can we just… I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quickly, knowing that if we started, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself together.
“Of course. I’m just glad you decided to come back,” mum said with a soft smile as she gently stroked my arm.
“Hey, Pete,” I heard my dad say from behind me, and I turned around to look down the hallway, where he was standing.
“Hey, dad,” I said, moving down the hall toward him and wrapping my arms around him. “I missed you.”
“Me, too, bud.” My dad tightened his arms around me for a few moments before we separated, and he rested his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“One step at a time,” I muttered, giving him a small smile.
“You meet any… boys?” my dad asked slowly, and I felt my face heat up as I shook my head.
“We didn’t talk about that stuff before. We don’t need to start now.”
“Okay, okay,” he said with a chuckle, dropping his hands from my shoulders. “But, just know, if you ever need to talk—”
“Yes, dad. I get it. Thank you!” I said quickly, my face continuing to heat up
I knew exactly where he was going with that sentence, and while I really appreciated him trying, I did not need the ‘birds and the bees’ talk from my father. I hated to imagine how he would work a gay theme into it.
“Alright, good,” he said, clearing his throat and nodding.
“Cool… I think I’m going to go unpack and sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Do what you need to, honey. Take all the time you need,” Mum said, and I heard her move behind me, wrapping her arms around me one more time. “I love you, Peter. I always have and always will. No matter what.”
“Thanks, mum,” I whispered as she let me go. “But we don’t need to make a big deal out of this. I’m me. Nothing’s changed. I don’t need a parade.”
I chuckled at my own words but stopped as I saw Mum and Dad exchange a look, and I started to dread what it meant.
“I guess we’ll see you in the morning then,” Dad said quickly, and I nodded uncertainly.
“Uh, yeah. Goodnight,” I said awkwardly and moved past my parents, walking down the hall toward the stairs.
“Welcome home, shit brains,” Brad greeted me as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and I looked up to see him standing halfway up them.
“Thanks, dick stain,” I replied with a smile, and he returned it, before turning around and walking up the stairs. I followed.
As I reached the top of the stairs and entered the second-floor hallway, I saw Brad standing outside my room, leaning up against the wall.
“Is this the moment you punch me?” I asked, walking over to him and standing in front of my bedroom door.
“I mean, no. But I will now,” he replied, giving me a quick jab in the shoulder.
“Ow, you fuck.” The thought to punch him back ran through my mind, but I knew it would only end badly for me, so I rolled my eyes at him instead.
“I am, but I needed to prepare you,” Brad said, pushing himself off the wall and grabbing the two bags out of my hand.
“Prepare me for what?” I asked, moving to grab the bags back, but he moved them away from me.
“Just open the door, Drama Queen.”
“Ugh,” I mumbled, opening my bedroom door and walking inside. “What the fuck?”
He really should have prepared me a little more.
What once was my dull, bland room, was now filled with a lot more colour. The general layout was the same, but the walls were no longer blank. Above my desk and computer was a, quite large, rainbow flag. Posters with ‘PRIDE’ plaster on them were stuck above my bed, along with inspirational quotes from gay celebrities.
“Mum and Dad started this on Saturday almost as soon as I told them you wanted space,” Brad explained, following me into the room and placing my bag on the floor.
“Well, now I know what that look was about,” I muttered, walking over to the rainbow flag hanging on the wall and running my hand down it. “Not a parade, but a little over the top.”
Who the fuck was I kidding? I loved every second of this.
“I also got you something, but I thought I would wait until you came back to give it to you. Just so you could put it where you want it.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Brad. Though, less physical violence would be appreciated,” I suggested, but Brad shook his head.
“Oh, no. Trust me, I’m still going to constantly hit you,” Brad admitted, walking over to my closet, and I groaned.
“Fantastic.”
“Here,” Bradly muttered after opening my closet and pulling out a rolled-up poster, slipping the rubber band off it.
“Bradly…” I trailed off, having an idea of what he was about to show me.
“Sexy firemen!” Brad exclaimed as the poster unrolled and I was greeted with three shirtless firemen, all looking as though they could punch through several brick walls.
“Oh, my God,” I murmured, feeling my face heat up and many other things happening.
“The guy behind the counter hit on me when I bought this.” Brad laughed, moving over to me and shoving the poster into my hands.
“You really, really shouldn’t have.”
“Why? I used to have half-naked chicks hanging on my wall all the time. What’s the difference?”
“You’re a creep. I’m not.”
“Mhm, sure you’re not. It’s okay if it turns you on, Pete.”
“What? No! Get out of my room, you fucking idiot!” I could feel my face heat up even more as I shoved Brad away from me, dropping the poster on my bed.
“Okay, okay. I get it. You want to be left alone with the poster. Fine. But should I wear headphones?”
“Get out!” I yelled, shoving Bradly again, and he gave me another sharp punch in the shoulder before leaving, laughing maniacally as he went.
After my door closed behind Bradly, I walked over to my bed, sitting next to the poster he had given me; my face still burning and no doubt incredibly red.
Taking another look around my room, I felt a rush of warmth run through my body again—and it wasn’t just because of Brad’s poster. I took in everything that my parents had put up in my room, and I felt the love that came with it. I looked down at the shirtless firemen in the poster next to me, and for the first time, I noticed a little message Brad had written in the bottom right corner.
‘No more sentimental crap after this, but welcome home, you little fuck.’
I smiled to myself as I re-read Bradly’s message. That’s exactly where I was. Home.
-Twenty-One-
Collision Course
The rest of the month went by rather quick, which I didn’t hate. I loved being at home again, but every time I was alone with my mum or dad, they wanted to talk about me. Which isn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was starting to get weirdly personal. So, I was thrilled that it seemed my time alone with them was limited.
Apart from the questions from my parents, my home life had improved a lot. Even more so than before I was out as gay. I was finding it easier to be myself and to talk about things I never would have spoken about before. For example, how attractive I found Tom Holland. Those things, however, were mainly discussed with Brad, but considering I never used to talk about them, it was a massive improvement.
The poster he had bought me now hung on the back of my bedroom door, which made Brad extremely happy that I had actually hung it up.
“Next time, I will get you porn,” he had said, laughing hysterically at how quickly my face flushed red.
To say the least, it was nice to be back—to be home again. Even if my brother was still an asshole.
Outside of my home, however, things were far from where I would like them to be.
My anger for Leroy, while still prominent, had died down, mainly due to the constant barrage of ‘pleases’ and ‘it isn’t like that’ from Andy. I was never given any insight on what was happening or what was wrong, but I didn’t want to lose another friend, so I pulled myself in check.
Andy had always been able to make me see things a little clearer, and while, yes, I wasn’t rushing over to Leroy with open arms, I wasn't a dick about it.
Out loud, at least. Internally, I was constantly cursing Leroy, and doing my best to avoid him at all costs, which was easy, apart from the two classes we had together. They always turned in to being the longest classes of the day.
Andy kept trying to tell me that Leroy wasn’t the cause of the fear I had felt after I had come out. That I had been feeling it before Leroy had walked away. But that didn’t excuse him. That didn’t make me any less angry.
Halfway through the month, Andy, Blaire, and I had made an agreement to not speak about the friction between myself and Leroy. It was for the best. I may have been angry at Leroy, but that shouldn’t mean Andy and Blaire had to be too.
A small voice in the back of my mind kept telling me that my feelings toward Leroy should matter. He was going through something and needed friends. I didn’t want to take that away from him.
The good thing was, the time that Andy and Blaire spent with Leroy, I got to spend with Cooper and Trent. The only other two people who had come out with me. While they had both become good friends, Cooper and I had gotten extremely close, and damn near inseparable.
Over the course of the month, Cooper had slowly become more open with me, talking about coming out to his family, and how his dad had left his mother after she chose Cooper over him.
I didn’t know why, after Cooper told me, I felt guilty. After all the worry I had gone through with wondering if my own parents would accept me, to having them welcome me with ope
n arms. Then finding out Cooper hadn’t been as lucky didn’t feel right. It wasn’t fair.
My other concern regarding Cooper was Blaire. The flirting had continued throughout the month—however, it hadn’t progressed any further. Both of them still stumbled over their words when speaking to each other and blushed furiously at one another’s compliments.
I knew that I had no right to be worrying about Cooper and Blaire’s flirting or, perhaps, eventual relationship, but I couldn’t help but worry about Cooper. I couldn’t decide whether to share my concern with him or not. Was it appropriate? Probably fucking not.
“Have you cast your vote yet?” Cooper asked, swinging his legs carelessly over the end of the table he was sitting on.
His eyes trailed over me as I sat on the seat that was attached the table as we both bathed in the early December sun that shone down on us. Trent was nowhere in sight, and I wasn’t sure where he was, though I wasn’t taking much notice of anything at the moment. Definitely not the countless books I had scattered in front of me that I was meant to be studying.
My finals were next week, and I may have been putting off studying for the simple fact that I hated it. Cooper, however, thought that I should at least try to get some studying in before the final exams I will ever have to take at high school.
I had begrudgingly agreed to try, but my brain was not having a bar of it.
“My what?” I asked, pulling myself out of my thoughts.
“Your vote. For Peer of the Year?” Cooper explained, rolling his eyes at the name the school had given it.
“Oh, no. Not yet,” I admitted, looking back down at my books, trying to find where I had got to before my thoughts had taken over.
Unfortunately, my mind was now focused on the ball that was taking place the week after the exams. A final farewell to those leaving the school to head off into the world. It was a glorified school dance. One which I didn’t intend to go to.
“They really need to come up with a better name,” I muttered, giving up on attempting to study and closing all my books before shoving them back into my bag.
“Yeah. It is fitting, though. Peers choosing which peer is the best peer.”