Reximus
My mom went out shopping for Black Friday, but wouldn't let me go. I complained throughout the entire time that she was getting ready. She didn't seem to care.
"Try to stay away from your father, please?" she told me before she left with her friends. "He's having Johnny and Bill over. They're just going to be watching TV and they'll probably play a card game or something."
"Okay, Mom," I sighed.
She kissed my head and ruffled my hair, much to my annoyance. She closed the door behind her and I watched her car's tail lights disappear around the corner.
I trudged to my room dejectedly and tried to fall asleep. After an hour of squeezing my eyes shut and willing my brain to sleep, I realized that my attempts were futile. The noise was too much; the blaring living room TV, the clanking of cans, and middle-aged men shouting.
Though I knew that asking my dad to turn down the TV was no use, I threw the blanket off of myself and padded barefoot to the living room.
I squinted my eyes blearily as I entered the doorway of the living room, the light much brighter than it had been in my bedroom. They didn't notice me; they were too engrossed in watching whatever sport they had taped on the DVR.
My voice was meek. "Dad?"
His shoulders tensed and his hands clenched at his sides, but he didn't turn around to face me or say anything.
Bill, one of my dad's closest friends, ignored me as well, barely twitching at the sound of my voice. He was bigger than my dad, broad shoulders and a graying goatee. He had been over enough to know that my dad hardly associated himself with me, and that I was gay. He had called me a faggot once, but other than that, he ignored me.
Johnny had been my dad's best friend since they were eight and my dad saved Johnny from drowning when he fell through the ice in the middle of January. Johnny had gotten out of Connecticut as soon as he divorced his wife two and a half years ago, and had only just gotten back a few weeks ago. He hadn't been around to hear the news that I was gay and that my dad was determined to repeatedly let me know that he wasn‘t okay with it.
Johnny turned around. "Hey, Rex! What's going on?"
I smiled softly, yet knowingly. He would find out soon enough. "It's been fine, Johnny. What's been going on with you?"
He chuckled at my small response but answered nonetheless. "It's been great! I got to go to Vegas, California, and I even spent a few months in Texas!"
I plastered a smile on my face.
"Hey," Johnny turned his head to my dad. "I think Rex needs you."
My dad gave him a stony look, and then turned his gaze to me, glaring.
"What, faggot?" he spat.
My cheeks burned. "I, uh--"
"Whoa!" Johnny exclaimed. "What the hell was that, Bobby? Did you just call him a faggot?"
My dad's lips curled into a snarl. "He's a fag, Johnny. He came out a few months ago."
"So what?" Johnny threw his hands up incredulously. "He's your son, Bobby, and you're just going to ignore him and then address him as 'faggot'?"
"It's what he is," my dad replied coldly.
"No, it's not! What would you do if I told you I was gay, huh? Would you kick me out and call me a faggot? Huh? Would you just throw away the last thirty-one years just because I liked men?" Johnny's face reddened and he bared his teeth angrily. "What if I did this!?"
Johnny grabbed my dad's face and forced his lips onto him.
I stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as they kissed, my dad struggling after getting over the initial shock. Billy remained motionless, frozen.
It only took a few seconds for my dad to push Johnny away from him. The back of Johnny's calves crashed against the coffee table.
My dad's face was bright red, his eyes flaring. "Get out," he hissed through his teeth.
Johnny was sheepish. "Bobby, I'm sorry. I was just trying to prove--"
"Get out!" he spat, hands in fists at his sides.
Johnny left quickly without another word. My dad turned to me.
"You, too!" he yelled. "Go back to your room, damn it!"
I shuffled back to my room, the TV volume suddenly the least of my worries.