The Art of Faking Straight

Chapter Five

         Dad decided to hang up Kayla's art work on the fridge, as he does every piece of art either of the girls draw. So every time I go to the refrigerator it'll be there, staring directly at me, almost as if it's intentionally mocking me. Which in a way it is, because I will never be the Liam in that picture. I will never have children of my own. I will never have a wife.

         Everything is finalized.

         I am gay.

         I am not straight.

         Because straight guys don't think like I do, do they?

         They at least don't think like that like I do.

         But I can't crush Kayla's dreams, so I didn't say anything, I just ate my burnt slice of frozen pizza then went to my room to find something to do. Which is why I'm now here, laying on my bed face down all dramatically. I wish I had a best friend I could complain to, but that would mean I'd trust somebody with my "secret" and I don't. Not because I'm paranoid, I just know this is the type of thing I can't just tell anybody and everybody. This is the type of thing that even your most loyal friends might suddenly turn on you for. I've seen it happen, but then again, that was in a film, but still...it's possible.

         I have to be careful, until I decide that I'm ready. Otherwise this might be the worse Senior year to every happen to someone.

         Deciding I might as well do something for the next three hours, I turn on the television.

         I spend most of my nights like this, flickering through channels aimlessly, knowing very well that none of the shows will keep my interest. There's just nothing fitting for me. Reality shows aren't my thing, and I cannot be bothered with Discovery Channel. I mean watching animals screw isn't my version of a good past time, who cares for it? There's nothing interesting on, so I shut the television off and fall back onto my bed again.

         I sit there for awhile, until I hear the phone ring downstairs. It crosses my mind to go down and answer it, just in case it's Mom calling to check in, but I never actually get up to do it. I just stay laying across my bed, wondering whether or not tomorrow will be any different.

         What will happen if Jack and Connor cross paths tomorrow? Will there be a fight? Will I be forced to pick a side? If I do, I know I must pick Jack's. He's my best friend, and even if Connor and Cade have a right to be mad at him, I don't care. Sure it's messed up for him to date under the legal age, but he didn't know right? Shouldn't they cut him some slack? What if Connor still told on Jack and-

         A knock at the door stops me mid-thought, and I finally have the energy to stand up and leave my bed.

         "Your friend's on the phone," Kyle says as he stands there. I nod in acknowledgment, then watch as he heads off to his room.

         When did he even get home?

         I walk out of my room, yell thanks back to him, and hurry down the stairs. Dad's in the recliner, watching some stupid movie starring Nicholas Cage, and everyone else is out of sight.

         "Where's everyone at?" I ask as I make my way to pick up the phone off the counter.

         Instead of saying anything, he just grunts, which I take means not to bother him because he's really into the show.

         "Alright then," I say to the air, letting the annoyance show in my voice. Then I pick up the phone without glancing at the caller I.D. and deliver a groggily hello.