Someday

Year 9, Day 63

A/N: Since this chapter is all about family (and also inspired by the recent #LoveWins trend), I thought it would be great to shout out Wattpaders and Wattpad accounts hard at work to make this site and the literary industry more accepting of all its members, no matter (and hopefully because of) how diverse they are.

RachaelMole for her #Visible campaign, do check it out here: http://www.wattpad.com/story/42057378-visible. Also, Wattpad's lgbt and DiverseFiction accounts are hosting contests and giving tips on all things diverse and welcoming. If you're a massive supporter of similar causes, then you might wanna follow them. 

That's all for this week, happy reading!

***

It was movie night, which meant pizza dinner and Bobby sleeping over. He'd slept over before, had dinner with my parents before, sat beside me on the couch as we watched a marathon of Star Wars before. 

This all happened before.

But before, he wasn't my boyfriend. He wouldn't wink at me when mom's busy cooking, hold my hand under the table while we ate a slice of home-made pepperoni pizza or kiss my temple as Darth Vader revealed his true identity. 

Bobby was subtle though; he made sure my parents were looking the other way or were preoccupied being their affectionate selves with each other. Yes, they're still that 'inlove'. My other friends were grossed out when their parents did this, but not me. 

The way mom and dad looked at each other was how I knew for sure I loved Bobby. 

Why Bobby felt the need to hide what we had from them still confused me. Of all people, my parents would understand. They'd see what they had in us; I was sure of it, but I knew Bobby's insecurities already. 

You should have seen him spend thanksgiving sat beside our fence a few years ago. It was hours later, when we got home from gran's dinner, that we found him there cold, bruised and hungry. My mom had to coax him over soup to tell us why he was out there, alone, in the first place. He said his dad was 'busy'. Oblivious as I was then, I was pissed. 

Busy? 

Really? 

You exposed your son to the possibility of frostbite because you're 'busy'? 

Later that night, I figured out what 'busy' meant when my thirteen-year old eyes saw Bobby's dad and a girl, certainly not his mom, through their living room window. Since then, I never demanded answers when I'd find him crouched by our fence. I realized that Bobby had deeper scars than the bruises I saw, and what's worse was they came from people who should be nursing the wounds not deepening them. 

So I understood.

To Bobby, my parents were his too. He was terrified of disappointing them, even if he knew my mom and dad were different, that fear nagged at him. 

I knew he had the same worries when, sometime during the third movie, my mom asked, loud enough for all of us to hear over the movie, "So honey, when are we gonna celebrate?"

"Huh?" I said, turning to look at her.

"You two, dating," she added, still looking at the screen. I didn't have to see mom's face to figure out she's teasing or Bobby's face to know he couldn't tell. The sudden hitch in his breathing was a dead giveaway. I hope he heard the part about celebrating though because knowing my parents, that's more  likely to happen than the scenes from his imagination. 

Before Bobby and I could say anything, dad added, "Finally."