The Things Our Parents Taught Us (ONC 2020)

2 / angelo

I'm not sure why I never told anyone I'm gay.

My logic has been that people know when they meet me.

They can tell, somewhere deep in their bones, they can tell something is different about me. So that's what it is — an unspoken truth.

I'm not ashamed. I'm not embarrassed. People just know. Nadia and Jax have to know, and if they don't, they're idiotic and not my siblings.

Uncle Al, mom, and dad don't need to know. In my mind they think I'm some pussy-pounding hunk who goes to the strip club every weekend. Only one part of that sentence is true.

Whenever I try to talk to Nadia and Jax, especially Jax, my throat closes up and I feel waves of emotion. Feeling emotion is something we don't do, so I swallow it and talk about something else. Anything to make it go away.

But, I'm gay, so there's that.

•••

The guidance office at school is dark and dusty. My blood is boiling from sitting here with the social worker. Her chin is pointy and her eyes look stupid.

"Angelo, you're aware you are not graduating?" She asks me like she's worried, like she actually cares. Like I don't know already.

"Yeah. So what?" My arms cross. I don't have time for this.

"You have missed 120 of 150 days of school this year so far. That means you are expelled and will need to take the 12th grade over again in the fall. But before you do that —"

My eyes involuntarily roll. "Then why am I here?"

The social worker gives me another stern look and glances at her clipboard, flipping through a couple of pages.

"We want to help you. 30% of your classmates are in the same boat as you. That is astronomically high as compared to previous years. This summer we're —"

My eyes roll again.

"I'm expelled, huh? So I might as well leave. I don't need this summer thing either. I've got a job and that's enough."

Her posture perks at the word "job," but I'm up and out of the door before she can say anything else. I'm barely down the hallway when I hear her voice echoing.

"Those Vechky's are hard as hell to track down and this is what happens when we do? No surprise they've been reassigned five times."

Over my shoulder I see her stupid pointy chin moving up and down while the guidance secretary nods silently.

"Fuck that," I whisper at her tucked in blouse and black pencil skirt.

Once I'm out of the school's front door, I start walking home. It's always a bummer when one of us gets called to sit down with the social worker. I guess it beats the alternative.

It's spring in the city and lots of people are walking on the sidewalks, taking up space, letting their dogs piss on benches and buildings. My cigarette burns in my mouth and I hope it smokes some people away.

"Angelooooooo!" Garret Hoffman smirks and reaches his hand out. We shake and hug, blocking the line of traffic on the sidewalk, but neither of us care.

"How's business?" He sticks his hands in the front pockets of his baggy jeans. I've been telling him to ditch those for months, they're too big and really ugly, but he doesn't listen.

My cigarette wobbles between my lips as I talk. "Not bad. Nadia did well last night."

Garret's lips purse and he nods. "I've seen your parents early this morning. They've got a new batch of something in the house, should be good money."

I inhale deeply. The word "parents" triggers every reflex in my body to inhale.
Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

Once I've got enough, I squeeze the cigarette between my fingers so hard I'm surprised it doesn't snap. "Mmm. Great. I guess that's what I'm walking into, huh?"

Garret just laughs and nods somewhat apologetically. "Good luck bro."

It takes a few seconds for me to realize he's gone and I'm standing here alone. The sun beats on my back and I feel like running away, like the sun is my energy and my battery is full so let's go.

But I don't. I keep walking back to the house where my parents are, where my siblings are, where I belong. This dumb city is where I belong. I'm the product of white trash and drug lust. A unique concoction of homosexual, high school drop out, and drug dealer.

I throw my cigarette in the gutter and watch a homeless man across the street chase after it.

The train whizzes past and makes everything around me silent for a moment. Something I've never told anyone is that I need that noise at night to fall asleep. Not just the train, but the city.

Our door is open when I get home. Mrs. Edna is drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette on her side of the duplex's porch but she doesn't look up from her magazine.

Mom's voice gets louder the closer I get to the screen door, finally pulling it open and stepping inside against my better judgement.

"Oh, there he is! Our handsome son, Angelo!"
Mom runs over and cups my cheeks with her filthy hands. Hands that make meth, hands that touch her husband's gross dick. I flinch and pull back, watching her face drop.

Nadia and Jax just stand in the background with a blank stare and I wonder what she's done to them while I was gone.

"Dad's in the basement. Let me go tell him you're here. All of our children!" She smiles before trotting off. It makes me nauseous.

"You wanna run?" Jax casually mentions to Nadia and me. We nod in perfect unison, scrambling towards the door like three animals and an open fence.

And so we run.