Zoophobia - A "Safe" Haven: Book 3: January - March

Chapter Forty Three: Breakthrough

THORAX
Dad was staying late at the school. He told me he wanted to grade some papers, and he didn't know how long it was going to take. I didn't mind. Less of a distraction. I had a lot of homework, and I was looking forward to a quiet house. I fixed myself a bowl of chips, just a snack to eat. As I began walking by the couch, I saw someone sitting there, just watching.

"Hi..." he said in a New Yorkan voice.

"Hola..." I said without a care. I stopped walking; my eyes went wide. "What...?"

Angel Dust stood up. Tears welling in his eyes, he hugged me tightly. "I missed you so much."

I set the bowl on the couch and slowly brought my arms around Angel Dust. "I missed you, too," I said, crying again.

We didn't say anything to each other, we just hugged and sniffed, crying in each other's arms.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"You f*cking scared me! You weren't answering any of my messages. I got worried, and I just told myself that I had to see you."

"Angie, I...I'm sorry. I should've talked to you; something came up. I would've called you, but...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend? You haven't offended anyone!"

"But with everything that happened...I-"

"-you did nothing."

"No, Angie, I did something very bad."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll understand."

"Something happened with the drugs, and I...just the whole thing with Professor Thatcher—I mean Lawrence—I mean-"

"-forget about it. If Thatcher has something to say about you, then I'll deal with it because, remember? I'm the super hot guy."

I began laughing, and Angie brushed my hair out of my face.

"I love you, okay?"

"I l-love you, too," I responded before we kissed.

The makeout was interrupted when I heard the sound of the garage opening. I hadn't realized Dad would get home early, and I exchanged a scared look with Angie.

"You've got to hide. Now, now!"

"Can't you tell him about us?"

"He can't know!"

"Does he know how you feel about men?"

I paused, freezing in place as I began to feel nauseous. "I don't wanna be a disappoint," I said. After hearing Dad's footsteps, I shoved Anthony into a closet and turned around instantly to find Dad walking inside.

"Your home," I said, putting on a calm demeanor.

"I am."

"Early."

"Oh, well...Zechariah suggested I take the rest of the day off. And I—was worried about you, Alex."

"But I'm fine now, Dad."

"C-c-can we talk? Upstairs please."

I followed him nervously. I knew he was going to start talking about what happened. Knowing my dad, the "incident" was bound to be brought up. One way or another. As we entered my room, Dad closed the door shut—all the way. This couldn't be good at all. I sat on the edge of my bed and could feel sweat running down my arms and neck, sliding slowly almost like a tear from a silent cry.

Dad sniffed before he, too, began to sob. And the sight of my dad crying sent me into a teary mess, too. We embraced, hugging each other tightly, without saying a word to the other. We didn't need words or phrases to communicate. We all had a unanimous conclusion that now would be the one time to be honest with one another. Now would be the one time to finally be honest about Mom.

"I know it hasn't been easy," Dad said, wiping at his face with his paw.

"I miss her," I said, breath shuddering. "I miss her all the time. I just couldn't handle it, so I got the antidepressants. I was so scared."

"I was scared, too. I thought I would lose you, Alex."

"I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I just wanted all the pain to go away." I realized that sentence in and of itself was a paradox. Talking definitely wouldn't shake off everyone's thoughts that I tried to commit suicide that day, but I didn't know what I was doing. I sniffed, and Dad grabbed a box of tissues from my desk. I took a second to blow my nose before speaking again. It allowed me to think about what I was going to say before the words left my mouth, and I'd never be able to take them back. "Dad, I'm gay."

"What?"

"I'm gay. I like guys, and I don't care how I dress. I've always felt different, but...not in a bad way. I like who I am. You might not, but I love this version of me."

"Oh, Alex...you should've told me sooner."

"Mom knew...I just didn't think you would understand. Because nobody ever—no one f*cking understands anything."

"I would've tried to."

"I'm tired. I'm tired of people trying and failing. I'm tired of being seen as a disappointment."

"You were never a disappointment to me. Never. Your mother and I loved you with all our hearts—we will always love you."

After I transformed into a fox, Dad set his hand on top of mine and attempted to smile. It had been a long time since either of us had ever been personal. It felt good, like all kinds of walls that had been set up following the funeral were melting away. I smiled, and we ended our conversation with a hug. I felt like I had just taken a five hundred weight off my chest, but there was still a weight even heavier than I didn't feel quite ready yet to remove.

ANGEL DUST
After Thorax and his dad left the room, I grew a little impatient. I figured there was no point in waiting for however long it took and decided to give them some privacy—father-to-son. I walked to the door and left the house only to find what appeared to be Thatcher's car sitting outside. By the time I made eye contact with him, it was too late. He quickly climbed out of his vehicle and walked up to me with a look of pure hatred on his face.

"What the f*ck are you doing here?!" He demanded angrily.

"Could say the same of you, Thatcher! The f*ck you doing at Thorax's house?!"

The deflected question seemed to have him stumbling for a few seconds. He paused as if taking a moment to formulate a reasonable answer before responding. "Can't I check up on my students? I tutor him sometimes, you know. And anyways, what will Henroin say when I tell him you've been here?"

"You godd*mn snitch!"

"I suggest you watch yourself, young man. Your father won't be too happy to learn this information, but I will be very pleased to tell him the news: his son is gay."

"If you touch Thorax in any way, I'll kill you."

"Do it then," Thatcher said, taking a few steps towards me. "If you're so h*llbent on this proposition, do it. Right here. Whip out that revolver of yours, and let's end this sh*t. Oh, but I doubt Henroin will want to hear about that either: you having shot his boss over some silly*ss high school senior. Sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, don't you think?"

"You know what also sounds ridiculous out loud, Thatcher? Me telling Henroin that you're so obsessed with said high school senior that you're willing to kill his son. And truly, that won't fly by, will it? My pa may be a b*tch at times, but there ain't f*cking way he'd allow one of his kids to get shot. So which way will it be, Thatcher? Because one way or another, I don't think Mr. Hernandez is gonna like to see his coworker and a random spider demon in his driveway talking about his son."

Thatcher looked back at his car and scoffed. He slapped me across the face before opening the door and driving away in a huff. I felt victorious in that moment, but I knew that wouldn't be able to last forever. Thatcher would come back.