+ Positively Negative - | Freddie & Joey

10. Freddie + Jay

Chapter Ten

Jay

Freddie +

Mia got us a fairy cake, pain au chocolat, a plate of biscuits and a ham sandwich each (and, as much as I love her, we were not twelve…you know?). I had a coffee too (to sober up) and Joey got a hot chocolate.

I carried the tray slowly to the back garden (Mia leaves the doors open to let in fresh air and all that) then settled on the grass facing the house, placing the tray in front of me. Joey was standing by the glass sliding doors with his cup of hot chocolate staring at me. He had the same expression on his face that he’d had when I’d walked into my room after consoling Lou a bit and convincing her that what dad had said didn’t affect me (a huge lie) and that I’d bring Joey round again when she wasn’t so upset (maybe).  The guy looked scared stiff. Sure, he was wary of me before, but it was getting ridiculous. Was it because I’d acted stupidly after all the alcohol and everything?

I couldn’t understand him. One minute he was nice to me, the next he was scared, as if had the plague or something. It was confusing me to be around him. I mean, he was definitely better than he idiots he hung around with, but when on his own. I just… I couldn’t figure him out.

‘If you want you can go home. I won’t force you to stay. I’ll tell Mia that you ate everything but suddenly had to rush off to some family thing,’ I said finally. I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't really have a choice; I probably wouldn’t get any company from Lou for the rest of the evening; she’d gone to bed with a headache from crying about dad.

‘It’s eight at night. What family thing would I have now?’ he smirked. I stared at the various biscuits in front of me, picked out a Bourbon and put it in my mouth.

7.23pm; Mum and dad had called me away from Sherry and Lou.

7.26; I found out my father had Prostate Cancer…

+

‘Y-you’re joking,’ I uttered. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be happening to me. It couldn’t be happening to my dad-

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ Dad asked dryly. He looked pale, weak… Or his body did anyway. His eyes radiated hate, disgust, disdain. They had whenever they were upon me for, what, about two and a half years now? Since the incident…

‘Neil, don’t,’ mum whispered. She still hadn’t looked at me since I’d walked into the room. Just cried.

I looked at my father harder; I could tell he still didn’t like me, didn’t want me, thought me a disgrace, but surely he… He was dying… Didn’t he want to fix things? Our relationship?

Couldn’t he forget that I liked boys rather than girls for a single second?!

‘I am not dying, leaving this world, with my only son a homosexual.’ That was what he said. And I couldn’t explain the feeling of the dagger that pressed through my heart just then. The beautiful Stainless Steel blade that twisted itself right and left as it delved deeper inside me. The rustic, candy apple red blood that spilt from my heart and dripped from the knife.

Can’t we just fix it..? Let’s just fix it dad… Please…

‘I’m giving you a choice. You will have three weeks –possibly less—to prove to me that you can forget your disgusting preference, after that if you still can’t… You’ll be taken to a conversion camp or see a therapist again.’

I could feel a calm, cold hand grab hold of my heart and attempt to settle it as a rage of fire threatened to take over me. ‘Fuck you, dad,’ I said softly, tears springing to my eyes.