As the final bell rang, concluding the last day of my sophomore year, the sound brought with it more relief than excitement, the normal emotion for a high school student at the start of summer break. I somewhat desperately hoped that the bell would take with it all my troubles from the past few months, but I knew that wouldn't be the case. Still, summer always felt a bit liberating, something about being outside the confines of the school building alleviated some of the pressures to conformity.
There wouldn't be much escape, though. Eva and Patrick still wouldn't talk to me so I mostly hung out with the football boys. I couldn't stand being around some of the hockey bros any longer than I had to after that lax game.
Some of the guys on the team were nice and all, but I largely felt out of place among them even though they were my teammates. I never got into video games like the rest of them had and talk of girls made me visibly uncomfortable. Sports was still a safe domain, but with no seasons active that was limited as well. They weren't my first choice of friend groups, but I believed the alternative to be solitude.
I'd expected another big conversation with Theo when we started working overlapping shifts at the bookshop again, but that never came. Theo mostly focused on his work and expected me to do the same, giving monosyllabic answers whenever I tried to strike up a chat. The first few weeks went by fairly fast, almost disorientingly so. The Fourth of July was fast-approaching and that had been my own self-imposed deadline to tell my parents.
The day I finally worked up the courage was a Saturday afternoon. My parents had decided to host a barbecue for the neighbors and they were all in a relatively good mood. Dad had himself a healthy amount of beer and mom was tipsy off the homemade sangria that Mrs. Long from next door brought over. I could tell from just the smell of it that the proportions were significantly skewed in favor of alcohol content.
After everyone else had left, I helped my mom clean up the backyard while dad was fiddling with the grill. It was a split-second decision, but finally, I decided to just go for it.
"Mom, you know how I've kept going to therapy even though I said I'd hate it?"
"Oh, yes, believe me, that hasn't escaped my notice. I've been meaning to say 'I told you so' for some time now," mom teased. I had to resist the urge to smile.
"Well, I've worked through a lot and," I paused for a moment, before calling dad over as well, who seemed displeased to be torn from his grill.
"What's the matter, son? Couldn't you see I was busy with the grill?" He was a simple man when it all came down to it.
"Can we all just sit down for a second? I have something I want to say to you two." The shift in my tone must have alerted them to the gravity of the situation. Mom offered a few words of encouragement and dad appeared like he was trying to decipher the situation.
"Like I was telling mom, therapy has been really helpful and I've been working through stuff and..."
"You know, Charlie, I was skeptical at first too, but your mother insisted and I'm glad it's worked out for you," dad interjected. He was never one for reading social cues.
"That's exactly it. It has been working out and what I'm about to say is a reflection of how well it's gone, how I'm actually able to say this to you," my voice began to falter as the words came out. Mom reached out for my hand, encouraging me to continue.
"I'm ga-," I said in a voice so hoarse and dry I couldn't complete the sentence, but gathered myself and then repeated, more confidently, "I'm gay."
There was a silence for a long while. They both stared blankly at me, then alternatively looked away and then towards each other. Slowly, my father got up, told my mother the party was a huge success, and then carried some of the remaining plates inside. Mom's eyes followed his movements until he disappeared inside the house and then remained on the sliding door for a few moments more, as if expecting his return. When he didn't reappear, she looked back towards me, seemingly heartbroken, still with one hand on mine.
She brought the other to my hand as well and said, "Charlie, I am so, so very proud of you. I know how difficult that must have been. Your father is too, deep down, he just needs some time."
"What's going to happen now?"
"Nothing changes, I can promise you that. We both love you just the same as we did five minutes ago. I think I'd always expected this conversation, deep down, so I've been ready for it. I don't think your father has."
"You've expected this? But, you'd always make those gay jokes."
"Oh, god, Charlie, I'm so sorry I never meant anything by then. It's just...maybe joking about it would've made it go away. Seems silly now that I say it out loud, but that's the truth. I never meant to hurt you."
She got up out of her chair and came over to me, enveloping me in a hug. I remained in a sedentary position, only slightly returning the hug, still unsure about what had just unfolded.
Two days later, I was back at the bookshop. It was just Nora, Theo and I working that day, with Nora mostly in her back office, going over paperwork of some kind or another. The store was empty, so I was fiddling with one of the display tables and Theo was at the desk.
Satisfied with my work, I called over, jokingly, "how's it look?"
"The same as it did ten minutes ago," Theo replied, the first hint of that teasing voice I'd heard in ages. Oh, how I'd missed that.
"That's exactly what I was aiming for, thank you," I countered, bending for a mock bow, expecting that to be the end of our little tete-a-tete, but I was mistaken.
"Listen, Charlie, I heard you came out to your parents. I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."
Hearing those words filled me with happiness, but then I realized the implication and my mind started racing. "What? Wait, how did you hear about that?"
"How d'ya think I heard? Your mom was talking to mine, wanting some advice from an 'experienced' mom or something," he said, hardly stifling his chuckle.
"God, she's so embarrassing. She's trying, I guess, though."
"Yeah, sorry if this is overreaching, but I also heard how your dad reacted."
"Not great, I suppose, but I wasn't kicked out onto the street so I'd call it a relative success," I said, trying to sound blase to it all.
Theo's face scrunched in concern, "did you ever think that was a possibility?"
"I mean, it wasn't an impossibility. You know how things are. Dad grew up here. That thought never crossed your mind before you came out to yours?"
"No, never," Theo admitted, still working through what I'd said, "I just always thought yours were the same as mine about that kind of thing. Our home lives seemed so similar...I'd just assumed."
"Yeah, I guess it would appear to be the case. But, you've really got some great parents." Theo looked down, almost guilty, as I spoke.
That weekend, my house was unbearable. The tension in the air was suffocating. Dad hadn't said a word to me in the week outside of a few grunts when absolutely necessary. I'd heard him and mom arguing about it a few times when they thought I was asleep or wasn't around. The words were harsh on both sides. Sunday morning mass was unbearable, being sat in between the two.
I'd been intermittently texting Theo since our little detente a few days ago and had been complaining about how awkward everything had been and how excruciating mass had been. He'd mostly just been offering words of comfort and support, letting me spill my guts out and acting as a shoulder to cry on. Then, after an especially depressing paragraph-long text, he messaged "do you want to come over?" quickly followed up by the clarification "to get out of your house for a bit?"
I accepted the offer within seconds and within fifteen minutes I was changed out of church clothes and out the door, soon on the road to Theo's. I'd put on an outfit I had estimated made me look appealing but not try-hard, not wanting him to think I was reading too much into things when he had clearly delineated this was an act of friendship. I was glad I had resisted the urge to go all out when Theo opened the door in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, which fell just above the knee. He looked like he'd just rushed out of the shower, which was enough on its own.
Within minutes of entering his house, I took note of how empty it felt. I'd been half-expecting a full interrogation from Mrs. Broussard when I got there, but she was yet to be seen. Theo must have noticed me looking around because he turned his attention from browsing Netflix for a movie to watch on his TV to explain that he had the house to himself as the rest of his family was off visiting his older sister in the city.
"You weren't invited?" I teased.
"Haha, very funny, I just didn't want to spend the majority of my day off in the backseat of a car. They visit Adrienne like every other week."
"Sure, that's it, of course."
"Fuck off, dude," Theo said as he shoved me a bit. I overreacted and flopped off the couch onto the ground, making false protestations of injury.
Unexpectedly, Theo pounced on top of me. We wrestled on the ground of his living room for a few minutes, fighting for dominance. I'd gained the upper hand, pinning him down under me, until I noticed to my horror that I was getting hard. I stilled my body for just long enough that Theo saw an opening and flipped our positions with him on top of me now.
Reality paused for a moment as he looked down on me with those silver-blue eyes that I hadn't dared to look directly into since our detente, for fear of getting lost in them, as I was now. Silence prevailed, except for our heavy panting from the exertion of just moments ago. Theo was now looking back into my eyes, then down lower towards my lips.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, Theo moved down quickly. I felt his body on mine before his lips reached mine. Blood was rushing and we moved against each other like time was limited. Shirts came off within seconds, hands wandered below wastes and under the fabric. One of my hands found its natural place below his waist
Things came crashing to a screeching halt when Theo grabbed that arm and lifted it outside of his shorts. I froze, believing this to be the part where he tells me this momentary lapse in judgment was a mistake, that we should stay friends, if that, but instead "we should move this to my room." He got up off me and made his way to the staircase before looking back at me, beckoning me to follow and I was helpless to do anything but comply.