Give & Take (boyxboy)

Chapter 12

Later that day, the whole Doyle family (and Darcy) packed into their old white stationwagon. Jeremy was stuck between Ella and Darcy in the back seat while his parents sat in the front.

"I hope no one was drinking at that party last night," said Jeremy's dad, peering over his shoulder into the backseat.

"Nah, only a couple of older guys that were friends with the host," lied Ella smoothly.

Jeremy was fairly sure his parents wouldn't believe that, but he also wasn't about to tell them that he'd gotten drunk. It was almost like they had a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy on alcohol now that he and Ella were getting older. Jeremy wasn't complaining.

"Who even brought you home last night?" Jeremy heard Ella ask Darcy curiously.

"Oh, just some guys I met at the party," Darcy replied casually. "They seemed pretty cool."

"Huh?"

"What? Something wrong with that?"

Ella sounded cautious. "Hun, isn't that a bit, I dunno, unsafe?"

Darcy shrugged. "I dunno," they repeated. "Is it safer than walking home alone in the middle of the night? Probably."

Ella couldn't argue with that.

"Almost there," Jeremy's mum announced, pulling into a driveway. It was lined with pink and white rosebushes. Jeremy, still nauseous from his hangover, found their pungent aroma overwhelming. He hauled himself out of the car as soon as it stopped and hurried to the front door of his grandparents' house, even though he wasn't all that eager to see them.

The doorbell rang out a couple of times before his grandma came to the door. "Jeremy," she greeted him with a hug.

He choked on the strong scent of her perfume. "Hi Grandma." He squeezed past her into the house and embraced his grandpa briefly before powerwalking to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. He felt absolutely awful. Was he getting sick? No, it was probably just the booze from the night before. And the anxiety churning like a great worm in his gut.

"We've set up everything for lunch," said his grandma, leading everyone outside to the outdoor setting. "Here, pass us the salad, Marian."

Jeremy was aware that this was no ordinary lunch date with his grandparents. He'd heard his parents speaking the other night about Darcy, and it seemed they'd run into trouble over who would look after them. His mum and Aunt Julia's parents were a strict couple that had similar views on LGBT people as Darcy's parents: that they didn't exist, or didn't deserve to. Being around them made him nervous because they were so critical and had such high expectations for him.

After a magnificent chicken barbecue (of which Jeremy ate very little) the small talk finally ceased and the dreaded topic was broached. "So Daina," began their grandpa, "your grandmother and I have been talking to your parents, and we disapprove of your running away."

"I didn't run away," Darcy cut in, barely keeping their anger in check.

"You did, dear," said their grandma condescendingly, as though Darcy were still seven years old. "Now, we've agreed that it's best for you to move back into your parents' house." She said it like it was final.

"And you have to drop this... phase, Daina," said their grandpa, gesturing to Darcy's appearance. "I won't have it. And your poor parents shouldn't have to deal with it either. Just be a normal girl like you're supposed to."

"Now hold on a moment." Jeremy's mum spoke up. Jeremy heard the growl underlying her tone and he shrank back into his chair, feeling fear well up inside of him as the conversation grew into an argument. All he wanted to do was escape.

"What is it Marian?" asked Jeremy's grandma, her eyes sharp like a hawk's. Almost predatory.

"Our niece, or rather, my sister's child, has expressed that they would like to be called Darcy from now on. They doesn't want to be a girl, and Tom and I don't believe they should have to be."

"What are you saying, Marian?" snorted Jeremy's grandpa. "Call her a 'she' like you're supposed to."

"No, Christopher." Jeremy's dad spoke this time. "What we want is Darcy's happiness, and if they wants to be themself, then who are we to stop them?"

"Her guardians," Jeremy's grandpa offered coolly. "I hope you're not overstepping your welcome. Daina isn't your daughter."

"And it seems the only one that turned out right is Jeremy," said his grandma with a sneer, patting him on the back possessively. "At least one of our grandchildren is normal."

Jeremy's breath caught. Normal? She thought he was normal? He was anything but. Then panic seized him and he could no longer think.

Get.

Out.

Air.

Breathe.

Outside.

He broke away from his grandmother's grip and ran out through the back gate, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. He was hyperventilating. His vision was blurry and fragmented as he ran past the rows and rows and rows of rosebushes until he couldn't run anymore and he collapsed in a heap on the concrete driveway. His knees and palms were skinned but he couldn't even feel any pain because of the terror racing through his entire being. He would never be normal. He would always be outcast, different, alone. Tears were leaking from his eyes again as though they'd never stopped in the first place.

"Hey, Jer, hey, listen to me." Somehow Ella's voice broke through to him. He hadn't even heard her come after him.

"You're gonna be okay," Darcy said softly.

"Breathe."

So he did. He brought himself back from the swirling void of despair and flung himself like a beached dolphin back into reality.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay," he murmured, closing his eyes and counting his breaths.

"You're okay," Ella confirmed. "Come here, Jer." She hugged him, and Darcy took his hand gently in theirs.

He was still crying though, making the shoulder of Ella's cardigan turn dark with tears. "I'm not normal," he sobbed. "I'll never be what they want me to be."

"You don't have to be. Just be you, and we'll love you for who you are."