Bloodsport

chapter 24

I'm gay.

I'm gay.

"I'm -"

"Was everything okay?" It was the waiter. "Can I take your plates?"

"Oh, it was so lovely!" chirped Harry's mum. The food had been good, but Harry couldn't remember what they'd just eaten anymore. He wanted to leave. For once, his parents wanted to talk about him, and yet he didn't have anything of satisfaction to offer up.

"Could I have a beer, please?" he asked the waiter.

"Of course, sir."

The rest of the night was the same. His father ordered the lobster, while his mother opted for the tuna steak. Harry squeezed her arm and assured her the lobster was fine if she wanted it, but she made it clear that she wasn't going to have it. He knew it was because of what he'd said that morning, but it made him feel guilty, as though he had ruined their special New Year's Eve dinner. Harry ordered ratatouille.

By the time it was half-past ten, they had finished dessert and another bottle of champagne. His mother's cheeks were flushed, and his father looked pleased. The rest of the dinner had sailed past without further strain, but Harry was ready to go. Looking at his parents trying so hard to make the evening perfect was another kind of draining. He wanted to get to the party, and find Zayn. Or Louis. His parents had a bar reservation, and his mother had already ordered a taxi that would bring Harry to the party.

"All right, sweetheart. It looks like it's outside now." She grabbed a card from her wallet and placed it in his hand. "Here. To pay. And perhaps you can get some breakfast with your friends tomorrow, too. You know, for the hangover."

He almost laughed. "You've been drinking too much."

Harry's father laughed, too. "She's amazing when she drinks."

Harry shook his head, but couldn't help letting out a breathy chuckle as he got up from the table. "Don't let her drink more, Dad."

He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mum."

"Night, honey."

"Have fun," said his father. "And your mum was joking about the hangover. Don't drink too much. Curfew at two. And I want a picture of proof with Dusty."

"Are you two even going to be home by then?"

"We might get a hotel."

"Ew, Dad!"

"What?"

Harry grimaced. "Disgusting. Bye now."

"Bye!" His parents waved, and Harry made a beeline for the exit. He got his coat back and left the restaurant swiftly. The car was indeed waiting outside, and he released a breath of relief the moment they were headed back to his part of town. Finally. He felt odd watching his parents manoeuvre around one another. Sometimes they were awful. Sometimes they were happy. In the last few months, they had changed back and forth so often that he didn't know what was real anymore. It made him feel lonely, like he was outside of it all, constantly trying to understand.

He arrived at the party two minutes past eleven. It was only an hour until midnight, and the house seemed full, like most people had already arrived. Harry carefully began to tread his way through the hallway. He had never been to this house before, but he knew the girl who lived there. She was a cheerleader called Kelly, whom he had spoken to once or twice during game nights. She sometimes brought paint to line their faces with before matches, and she generally seemed like good fun. To offer her house up to most of the senior year on New Year's Eve was pretty brave in Harry's opinion.