Twenty Two

Coming out of the closet.

My dad picked me up from school not long after. He didn’t speak to me on the way home.  I just sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window, waiting for him to say something. But he never did. When he pulled into the driveway, he finally said something.  

“Go straight to your room. Try to be quiet so your mother doesn’t know you’re home. She’s not happy with you.” 

Of course she’s not. I rolled my eyes and stomped to the front door. I didn’t bother being quiet when walking up the stairs. I slammed my bedroom door so my mom would know for sure I was home.  

A few seconds later, I heard a knock on my bedroom door. It was my mom. She didn’t bother waiting for an answer. Instead, she barged in with a frustrated look on her face. 

“Riley. Do you want to explain to me what happened today? First you get caught smoking weed and then you cuss at your teacher? For the second time? What’s gotten into you?” 

I didn’t answer her, so again, she repeated, “Riley. That was a question. What’s gotten into you?” 

I rolled my eyes. “What’s gotten into you?” I mocked. “Don’t be so ignorant.” 

My mom raised her eyebrows. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I was angry and my head was burning. I could barely think straight. 

“Excuse me?” she asked. 

“Why would you ask me that?” I stared directly at her with a furrowed brow. She didn’t respond. “No, I’m serious, Mom.”  

“Riley,” she sighed. “This behavior is not okay. If you’re using Gideon’s death as an excuse, you sho...-” 

“NO!” I screamed so loud that I scared myself. But I didn’t back down. I was sick of people using Gideon as an example. “Everyone needs to stop! Gideon’s not a statistic! Okay? And he’s not a f*****g excuse, but yea. When your boyf...-” 

Suddenly a chill rushed down my spine. I caught myself. I needed to calm down. I looked down and my hands made fists so tight that my nails dug into my palms. 

I exhaled and continued. “When your best friend commits suicide, yea. You’re going to be a little more pissed off than usual.” 

There was silence. I looked back up at my mom. She had a strange look on her face. Like the face you’d make if your toddler finally walks but then falls hard on their face a second later. 

“Okay,” she said. Her voice was quiet now. Calm. I prayed that I didn’t accidentally let my mom know of my hidden sexuality. “I’m going to get dinner ready and we can talk about this at another time.” She smiled sympathetically at me.

“Get some rest, okay?” she said before closing the door behind her. 

F**k. She knows. I’m positive she knows. I kept staring at the door after she left for about thirty seconds. Suddenly, more anger hit me like a bullet.  

“F**k!!” I screamed, and turned away from the door. Nick banged on the wall from his room next to mine, telling me to be quiet.  

F*****g Nick. I’d never hated him more. 

I punched my pillow once. Then again. It felt good. This was the next best solution if you couldn’t punch a person. I kept rapidly punching my pillow until it seemed I had beaten all of the plushiness out of it. I picked the almost flattened pillow up in my hands and screamed. I screamed like I’d never screamed before. I wanted to let go of all my anger and sadness, but I didn’t know how. I’d never felt as unhappy as I did then. 

Eventually, I grew tired and exhausted. All I could do was lie on my back listening to my mom  bang her pots and pans around down in the kitchen. I fell asleep not long after. 

 

 

~ 

 

 

When I woke up from my coma, I felt dizzy. I didn’t know where I was until my eyes adjusted a couple minutes later. Lying on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling. The noises in the kitchen were now gone and I wondered if I’d slept through dinner. Oh well. It’s not like Gideon ate any family meals with his father.  

Occasionally he’d be found at the local café or burger shop eating late at night. Not a lot of people thought much of it, but then again, he said nobody had ever met his father. I would’ve felt honored, but instead, I just felt angry. 

I heard a knock on my door again a few minutes later. Ugh. Not again. 

My dad peaked his head into my room. “Hey Ri,” he said. “How you feeling?” 

I didn’t answer. I glared at him. They should know how I was feeling. How could they forget? 

“Could you come downstairs and sit on the couch?” he asked, nodding towards the stairs. “Your mom and I would like to have a chat.” 

Great. A chat. You know it’s going to be bad when they use those words. Nevertheless, I was more content than I was when I got home thanks to my long nap, so I slithered out of bed and groggily tripped down the stairs. When I went to plop down onto the couch, my mom was waiting for me. 

“Alright, let us chat, Nick,” she said to my brother who was busy texting on the other side of the room. He looked up for a second and then back down at his phone as he stumbled out the front door. 

My dad followed me down the stairs and took a seat on the ottoman, how men tend to do. 

My eyes darted back and forth between their worried faces. It seemed as if they were waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing to say. 

Finally, my mom spoke up. “Riley?” 

“Yes?” I responded. 

She glanced at my dad and opened her mouth to say something, but the shut it like she was second guessing her words. She took my hands in hers and smiled, looking into my eyes. I was starting to get freaked out, so I started inching farther away from her. 

“Please tell me honestly,” she coaxed. 

“What?” I replied promptly. 

“Riley...,” she started. She sighed, and then three words came out of her mouth that terrified me so much, I was eager to get up and walk out the front door like Nick had just done. 

“Are you gay?” 

The biggest frog I’ve ever had popped up in my throat. I couldn’t even try to swallow it, or I would probably cry.  

“I...,” I started. “Why would you think that?” 

This time my dad played the part of the conspirator. “Hey, Riley, we won’t be mad. We just want you to be honest with us.” 

It felt like it didn’t matter what I said. They had already convinced themselves that I wasn’t straight. I looked into their eyes, and I noticed a spark. A comforting, accepting, warm-hearted spark. Not like the hatred I’d seen in Gideon’s father’s eyes. I started to get teary eyed, and I figured there was no point in trying to lead them off the trail. 

“Yes,” I muttered, my voice cracking. 

Suddenly, they gushed and wrapped their arms around me.  

“Oh! Honey, that’s perfectly okay!” my mom assured. 

At this point, silent tears were streaming down my face. “You’re not mad?” 

She shook her head. “No honey, we’re not mad. Just sad.” 

I looked up at them with a puzzled expression.

She smiled. “Not because you’re gay. Because you didn’t tell me.” 

I sniffed and wiped my nose with my sleeve. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been long since I found out.” 

My father nodded and added, “And that’s fine. But these are things you should feel comfortable talking to us about. We’re your parents. We’ll love you no matter what.” 

I looked down at my socks. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. All I wanted was for you guys to feel proud of me like you are of Nick.” 

“Oh, Riley. Don’t say that!” my mom said. “We love you no matter what, just like your dad said. You and Nick are very different, and we know that. But we’re proud of both of you.” 

I smiled. “Okay?” she continued. I nodded. 

My parents gave me one last hug. Their arms wrapped around me tightly. This was the first time I’d felt happy since Gideon stopped coming to school. The weed didn’t count. That was happiness. It was ignoring my feelings. 

“Now we know you won’t accidentally produce a child,” my dad added, trying to lighten the mood. 

I chuckled. “How bout some spaghetti?” my mom offered, lightly kicking my dad so he stopped attempting to be funny.