Elijah (MxM)

Chapter Four

It had been a week since I had seen my sister. I had come up with nearly every excuse in the book to avoid her over the past few days. I wasn't feeling well, I had to help my friend move, I had a date. They were all lies of course and she knew, which didn't bode well for me. She knew that:

A. 'I'm not feeling well' actually means 'I'm high'

B. I didn't have any friends.

And, C. I didn't date.

So when she begged to talk today I had suspected it to be an intervention. And upon walking into The Barb and seeing my parents, I thought my suspicions were right. My heart nearly fell through my ass and rolled across the floor upon seeing them. It was the worst kind of surprise. If this wasn't an intervention, what was it? A confrontation of some sort? I didn't dare go there.

Our parents were older than most my age, being in their late fifties the last time I knew. They had a relatively average family, two kids, a nice house in the suburbs, and a dog. I had had a normal childhood with all the things a child needs to grow up well. But somewhere along the line, my parents went wrong with me, which caused me to turn out the way I am now. That's what they believed anyway. For my father, I think it began when he caught me kissing a boy in the sixth grade. Ever since then, he hasn't looked at me the same. Back then I was just experimenting, and even now I didn't like to label myself. Sure I like men, but I was I opposed to women? I'd had plenty of fun with women in the past, I'd just never dated one. Not for real. But that was something even more foreign to my family, so my sexuality was simply left in the do not discuss pile.

But I hadn't seen them for over a year, and now they were sitting at that table looking at me with unreadable expressions. I couldn't even bring myself to approach, if I knew they were coming, I would've showered at least. Suddenly, a hand found my elbow and I looked behind me to see Catherine holding a steaming coffee pot.

"Where have you been?" She asked playfully, which threw me off. "You avoiding me?"

"What the fuck are they doing here?" I asked, avoiding her question. I gestured to our parents behind my back and Cathy could tell I was very threatened.

"Relax, Kit. They just want to see your progress, I've told them how great you've been doing and I guess they wanted to see for themselves. They miss you." Her big eyes went soft like she was trying really hard to convince me of that fact. It wasn't working.

"No," I said simply, an honest and straightforward refusal. 

She opened her mouth to respond but before she could speak I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped at the touch before turning slowly to meet the eyes of my father. He was an extremely tall man with kind green eyes, the same as mine. His hair had gone all grey and he wore it proudly like it was a token of wisdom.

"Hello, Christopher." He said with a formality that was very odd.

I looked up at him, my mouth forming a straight line. "Hey."

Catherine served me a look that said, really? Hey?

"Come and sit, your mom is excited to see you." He ushered me forward with his hand on me. I felt the urge to snap it off.

My mother wore her age better than my father, her hair dyed darker than the grey that was underneath. She looked pretty, like my sister, but had the same freckled complexion as me, mostly present in the summertime. She stood as I approached, my wet sneakers squeaking on the tile.

"Chris!" She chirped. "You look good!"

She seemed like she wanted to go in for a hug but I took my seat across from her, ignoring her silent request. The energy around me grew tense for a moment before everyone sat; Cathy putting the coffee pot down. I looked down at my lap, not in a bashful way but completely uninterested. This is bullshit.