Trigger Warning: Homophobia, abuse mention, drug mention
A/N: Enjoy!!!!
John felt like the floor had just been ripped out from under him.
He'd just faced his biggest fear, done the one thing he'd always been terrified to do, the thing that had kept him awake at night for the past two years since that horrible day with the therapist.
He'd just told his parents that he was gay.
He, John Laurens, had just come out to his parents.
He, John Laurens had just told his extremely homophobic parents that he was gay.
The room was so silent John could hear the sound of his own racing heart.
His parents were standing there, stunned, as though the reality of John's words hadn't quite registered yet.
They just stood there, staring at him like two deer in headlights.
For a moment, John was terrified.
What if they get angry?
What if it's like freshman year all over again?
What if they disown me for real this time?
What if they throw me out of the house?
What if they kill me?
I shouldn't have done this. This was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have done this I shouldn't have done this I shouldn't have done this.
His muscles tensed, his heart started to race, his body braced itself for the pain it was about to endure, for the blows and the screaming and the cuts and bruises that would be left behind.
"Jacky..." John's father whispered, as though John were a baby animal and any loud noise would scare him away.
"I-"
John's heart was pounding. He felt like he was going to be sick.
This was a terrible idea.
Why did I think that I could somehow make everything better?
After so many years, why did I think that I could change everything with some stupid t-shirts?
Why did I think that I could ever be happy?
"Jacky, I think we should sit down and have a family discussion about this." John's father said, setting his phone down on the table.
John was stunned.
"W-What?"
"I said, I think we all just need to sit down and talk about this." His father said. "We all just need to come clean and tell the truth. There are too many secrets in this family."
John sat down in a rocking chair across from his parents, who were sitting down on the couch.
His hands were shaking. Every hair on his body was standing on end.
His body was on high-alert. Every sight and sound was intensified. Every nerve in his body was tingling, like a wild animal who sensed a predator nearby. He was waiting for something horrible to happen, every second seeming to last an eternity because he knew that tragedy would strike at any second.
Hypervigilance. John thought to himself. This must be how Alex feels all the time.
John's father took a deep breath. He was wringing his hands, the way he always did when he was nervous.
This is a trap.
This has to be a trap.
He's going to scream at me. He's going to hit me. He's going to throw me out of the house.
He's acting like he isn't angry to get me to let my guard down. Once I do, then he'll punish me.
"I think we need to start from the beginning." He said. "The picture on Facebook, the Gay-Straight Alliance, the t-shirts...."
"Yes." John said, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide how badly they were shaking.
"This is the club you're in?" He asked. "This is the club that invited you to the party, the one you were always staying after school for?"
John felt like he was being interrogated. "Yes."
"And these t-shirts, the ones they're using for their fundraiser, you made them?"
"Yes, I did." John said proudly. "I drew the design myself, with my own two hands." John held up his hands for emphasis.
That was stupid. He scolded himself. He knows that hands are, dumbass.
Do you think to yourself "what is the dumbest possible thing I could possibly do in this situation?" and then you do it? Is that how you decide how to act?
I really am just digging my own grave at this point.
"Jacky, how did you get involved with the Gay-Straight Alliance?"
John sighed. This was a story he could tell. This story had nothing to do with him being gay. It was just about his art project. His father couldn't get mad about that.
"For English class, we had an assignment where we had to draw a comic." John said. "I handed my comic in to my English teacher and he was very impressed. He's friends with the teacher who runs the GSA. She told him that they were having trouble finding someone to help them design their t-shirts and that if he had any students who were good at art he should tell them about the fundraiser so they could help if they were interested. And so my English teacher told me about the fundraiser and I decided to help."
"And why did you decide to help?"
John took a deep breath.
This was the hard part.
But he knew that he had to do it.
Because if he had even the smallest chance of things getting better, this would make or break it.
"I thought that it would make everything better." John confessed. "I know that you don't approve of me being gay. I know that you don't approve of me wanting to do art as my career. I thought that this would be able to fix both of those things. It could show you how much of a positive impact my art could have on people. It could show you that me being gay doesn't have to be a bad thing. I could show you that having pride in being gay can bring people together and make people happy. It can create a beautiful community of people who love and support one another no matter what challenges they face."
"How long have you known you're gay?"
"I guess I've always known, I just didn't want to admit it to myself. I tried to pray the gay away. I took 'Am I Gay?' quizzes online and would close the tab before I got my answer because I was afraid of what the answer would be. I tried to force myself to get 'crushes' on random girls I knew because I wanted to be 'normal.' But it got to the point where I couldn't deny it anymore. The first person I ever told was my therapist, but we all know how that ended."
John's father sighed. His expression was, as usual, completely unreadable. John was pretty sure that those marble statues from Ancient Rome had been more expressive than his father.
Really? John scolded himself. You're thinking about Ancient Rome at a time like this?
I can't help it. It happens when I'm nervous.
Well if you don't shut up about the stupid Roman Senate I'm gonna give you something to be nervous about!
"Jacky, all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy." His father said. "When I was your age, the world was a very different place. It wasn't acceptable for someone to be gay. Being gay was a death sentence. Publically admitting that you were gay was like signing your own death warrant. People thought that being gay was a disease, that people who were gay were disgusitng and evil. They believed that they were dangers to society who needed to be eliminated. And I believed them. I was young and impressionable. I believed what everyone around me said because I didn't know any better. Everybody else believed it, so I thought that it had to be true. I know that being young and ignorant isn't an excuse, but it's the truth about why I felt that way.
When I found out that my son was gay, I didn't know what to think. At first, I was angry. I thought that because I had a gay son, I'd somehow failed as a parent. I thought that you were sick, and I was somehow responsible for that sickness. I dismissed it, refused to acknowledge it, became distant from you and let you become distant from me. I called you a disgrace, a failure, a disappointment, everything that I'd heard other people say about gay people. But I was wrong. You're none of those things. I was a close-minded person. I'd never bothered to question what those around me said. I believed that it was the correct thing to think simply because it was the popular thing to think. When I was growing up, thinking that gay people were disgusting was the popular thing to think, and I just went along with it. But that was also wrong. Just because it's popular doesn't mean it's right. When you're young, you believe everything everyone tells you because you just don't know any better. 'Mommy and Daddy say so so it has to be true.' But that's false. Part of growing up is learning to think for yourself and not just blindly trust whatever everyone else tells you. You form your own opinions, make your own choices about what to believe.
I've always thought that I was grown. I'm 45 years old. I have a job. I have a house. I'm married. I have a son who's in high school. I thought 'I'm a mature adult.' But it turns out, I'm not. I may be old, but I still have a lot of growing up to do. A few months ago, I was scrolling through Facebook and I came across an article about a gay kid who committed suicide. It said that he did it because he was being bullied for being gay and felt like nobody supported him. For some reason, that made me think of you. For years, I'd dismissed the idea of you being gay, believing that it was just a phase that you would grow out of. I thought that if I just kept pushing it away for long enough, it would just go away. But now, I couldn't push it away anymore.
From that day on, I did a lot of thinking. I did a lot of reading about what it's like to be a gay teen, to grow up in a world that hates you because of something you can't control. I've learned a lot since then. One thing I've learned is that being gay is not a choice. You can't choose to be gay any more than you can choose to have curly hair or freckles. That's just the way that you're born, and there's nothing you can do about it. I've also learned that no matter what someone's sexuality is, we're all the same deep down inside. Everybody, regardless of sexuality or gender or race or religion, just wants to be loved and accepted for who they are. When you strip away all the labels and the divisions we've created, we're all the same on the inside.
Jacky, I know I've fucked up. I know I've said and done horrible things. I don't expect forgiveness. If I were in your position, I wouldn't forgive me either. I just want you to know that I love you no matter what. Whether you're gay or straight or neither or anything in-between, you'll always be my son."
John was stunned.
He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
Is this a dream?
Am I dreaming right now?
Of course I'm dreaming, this can't be real.
"No, Jacky, you're not dreaming."
"How did you know I was wondering whether or not I was dreaming?"
"Because I've known you for the past sixteen years. Every time something surprising happens, you always wonder if you're dreaming. You've been doing it since you were a kid."
In spite of the millions of emotions swirling around in his head, John smiled.
"I know you probably hate me." John's father said. "I'd hate me too if I were you. But I want you to know that I'll never hate you, no matter what."
"Dad, I never hated you." John said, trying to keep himself from crying. "When you didn't accept me for being gay, I wasn't angry, I was hurt. All I've ever wanted it for someone to accept me for who I am. I've always felt like a failure, like an outcast, like the one nobody liked. The Seventh Wheel-"
"Isn't it the third wheel?"
"It's a reference to something." John said, not feeling like explaining an entire book plot right now. "Anyway, I never felt accepted by any of my peers at school. When even my own family didn't accept me, that hurt a lot. I said that I hated you, but in reality, I hated myself. I thought that you didn't accept me because I wasn't good enough, because I was a loser who got bad grades and didn't have any friends and couldn't do anything right. When your family, people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, have given up on you, it hurts more than anything else in the world. I acted like I was angry, but in reality I was hurt. Anger is a secondary emotion. Anger is never felt on its own, it's always caused by another emotion. For example, I was hurt because my family didn't accept me, so I was angry at them. I never wanted you out of my life forever, I never wanted to leave home and never come back. I just wanted to be part of a happy family, for parents who accepted who I was and loved me for it."
John's father stood up from the couch and walked over to where John was sitting in the rocking chair. He knelt down in front of him and gently caressed his cheek.
"Jacky, you are anything but a failure." He said. Up close, John noticed with a start that there were tears in his eyes. He didn't think he'd ever seen his father cry before. "I'm so proud of you. You're so talented and intelligent and you can do anything you set your mind to. Any father would be lucky to have a son like you."
John felt himself start to cry too.
All the years of resentment and pain and secrets seemed to melt away.
John felt like a little kid again, crying to his dad after a bad day at school.
His father wasn't perfect. He'd messed up many times. But John wasn't angry. He wasn't perfect either. He'd made more mistakes than he could count. And he would probably keep making mistakes, because that's what life's about.
John didn't care that his father had messed up in the past. Everybody messed up from time to time. That's what it meant to be human.
What he did care about was the fact that his father had acknowledged and apologised for his mistakes and was working to correct them. He couldn't go back and change his past, but he could change his future. And that's exactly what his dad had decided to do.
That took strength, John realized, to admit that he'd been wrong. That was something most people struggled to do, something even John himself struggled with. Nobody liked to admit that they were wrong, but his dad had been willing to do it. He'd been willing to do it because he cared about John enough to want to make things right.
"I'm sorry if I scared you before, when I confronted you about the picture." He said. "In all honesty, I'm not very good at this 'emotional conversation' thing. I just... wanted to be sure of everything, okay? I just want to be a happy family again, Jacky."
"So do I, Dad, so do I."
The sun was shining.
The air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly grilled hamburgers.
John was sitting next to Alex at the outdoor table on their back deck.
John's parents and the Washingtons were standing around the grill, talking amongst themselves about their jobs and where their sons were planning to go for college and other adult things that adults loved to talk to other adults about.
"I still can't believe they wanted to meet me." Alex said, pulling John's attention away from the adults.
"Of course they did! I told them how wonderful you are!"
Last week, John had confessed to his father that he had a boyfriend. His father had been very happy, so happy that he'd suggested that they invite him and his family over for a barbecue.
"What did you tell them about me?"
John smirked and moved his chair closer to Alex's.
"I told them that you're a genius." He booped Alex's nose. "And that you're going to be a big fancy lawyer someday." He booped Alex's nose again. "And that you speak French like all the other fancy people."
Alex laughed. "Why did you boop my nose?"
"Because your nose is very boop-able." John said.
"Your nose is more boop-able." Alex booped John's nose.
"No, yours is!"
"No yours!"
"No yours!"
"Boys, dinner is ready!" John's father's voice called out, interrupting their very important and very heated argument about whose nose was more boop-able.
John's father walked over to the table and set down a plate of freshly grilled hamburgers and a plate of buns, which had been heated up on the grill. John's father had always insisted on heating up the buns when he made hamburgers.
"What's the point of making a hot hamburger if you're just going to be eating it on cold bread? It makes no sense!" He would always say.
John took a burger on a bun and put it on his plate. He smiled to himself as he took a bite.
John had missed barbecues. His family had had one at the start of every summer for as long as he could remember. When the weather started to get warmer, his dad would bring out the barbecue grill and that was how little John would know that summer was coming.
He hadn't been part of a family barbecue in years. When he was in middle school and had begun drifting away from his parents, he'd stopped coming out for the barbecue, preferring to eat alone in his room. By the time he'd gotten to high school, they'd stopped even asking him to come down and eat with them because they knew that he was going to say "no."
This was the first time since 7th grade that John had attended a family barbecue.
Just another positive change.
Just another way things are getting better.
So, John, Alex, how did you two meet?" Mrs. Washington asked once all the adults had sat down with their food.
Alex and John glanced at each other. They'd both made a promise to each other beforehand that if they asked how they'd met, they wouldn't mention the weed.
Certain things were meant to stay secrets.
"It's a funny story, we actually ran into each other. Literally." Alex said. "Well, actually, I ran into John. I thought he would be angry but he just started laughing and saying that he wished he could take a picture of my facial expression because it was funny."
"That's our John for you." John's mother said.
"After that we realized that neither of us had anything better to do so we just hung out." John said. "Turns out that two random people who literally ran into each other have a lot in common."
"That certainly sounds like the perfect start to a love story to me." Mr. Washington said. "Straight out of a romance novel."
"And people say being clumsy gets you nowhere in life." Alex said. "Being clumsy got me a boyfriend, so joke's on them!"
"Not to burst your bubble but most cheesy romance movies have the main character be clumsy. They're so put-together and attractive and otherwise perfect but they're just so clumsy because clumsiness is the only character flaw that can still be 'cute' and 'quirky.'" Mr. Washington said.
"How do you know so much about cheesy romance movies?" Mrs. Washington said in a mock-accusatory tone.
"Sometimes I get home late and there's nothing on TV except for cheesy romance movies! Don't judge me!"
"Do you two have a lot of classes together at school?" John's father asked.
"We have lunch together but that's it." John said. "Which in my opinion is a good thing because I don't think he'd like me if he knew how terrible I am at math."
"What math are you taking? Algebra?" Mrs. Washington asked.
"Calculus."
"Ugh." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Calculus is the reason why Aspirin was invented. That stuff makes my brain hurt."
"Martha, any math more complicated than 2 + 2 makes your brain hurt." Mr. Washington said.
"We can't all be as smart as you!" Mrs. Washington said. "And I may be bad at math, but at least I still have eyebrows when I take my makeup off. The haters can hate all they want."
John was laughing so hard he almost choked on his hamburger.
"Are the haters like the edgelords?" Alex whispered to John.
"All haters are edgelords but not all edgelords are haters." John replied.
Alex looked like his brain hurt. "Thanks. That clears things up perfectly."
"Do you two know what you want to do after high school?" John's father asked.
"Bold of you to assume I'm gonna make it that far." John said. "Bold of you to assume that I won't just spontaneously combust during my next test."
"John..."
"I want to go to law school." Alex said. "I want to be a lawyer."
"Alex is going to make one Hell of a lawyer." Mrs. Washington said.
"I'm gonna be the best lawyer this here courtroom's ever seen!"
"I want to go to art school." John said. "I want to do animation and draw comics and stuff."
"You two can work together on cases involving art theft." Mr. Washington said. "It's becoming a bigger and bigger problem with the rise of social media. Someone sees someone's art that they posted, they copy it and post it themselves without giving inspiration credit, next thing you know everyone's all up in a frenzy."
"Art theft is complicated." John said. "Because sometimes two people just happen to have the same idea even though they never saw each other's work. I once read about someone getting in trouble for stealing someone's idea for making a rainbow skirt. I didn't realize that a rainbow skirt was a unique thing that could only be thought of by one person."
"When I was in high school my friend found a drawing someone had done on a piece of notebook paper and shoved inside of her math textbook. She took the paper out, put her name on it, and gave it to her teacher as her project. Does that count as art theft?"
"That just counts as being resourceful."
"She got an A+ without having to do any work so I guess she's the winner in this situation."
"Imagine being a winner." John said. "I could never."
"John, you are a winner." Alex said. "You have me. And not to toot my own horn, but I think I'm one Hell of a prize."
John booped Alex's nose again.
After dinner, John and Alex sat outside eating ice cream cones while the adults sat inside watching a football game.
The sun was going down, bathing the backyard in warm orange light.
The temperature had dropped low enough that the mosquitos had disappeared, which was great, because John did not want to wake up tomorrow morning covered in bug bites.
"You know what I just realized?" John asked, turning to look at Alex.
"What?"
"That I drew this."
"Drew what?"
"This." John gestured to the backyard around them. "A few months ago, I drew myself sitting in my backyard with my parents. They were grilling and I was sitting at the table. We were all happy and normal. I titled the drawing 'Wishful Thinking.' I was drawing the life I wish I had, but I never thought it would ever come true."
"Well, I guess it did." Alex said, taking John's hand.
"Making that wish seemed so stupid at the time, but now that it's actually come true, it doesn't seem stupid at all."
"Making wishes isn't stupid." Alex said. "Making wishes are what makes life worth living. We make wishes every day when we wake up, wishing that it's going to be a good day. When we go to school, we make wishes that we'll get good grades so we can get into a good college and make a good career for ourselves. Setting goals is like a fancy way of making wishes. We all wish for the best things to happen. If we never wished for anything good to happen, we'd never have anything to look forward to in life."
"That's beautiful, Alex." John said. "What do you wish for?"
"I wish to be happy. I wish to have a loving family and good friends and get a good education."
"And would you say that that wish has come true?"
"Of course it has." Alex leaned over and kissed John. "All thanks to you."
Alex sat there in his boyfriend's backyard, in the beautiful state of Virginia, watching the sun set behind a beautiful yellow Forsythia bush, an ice cream cone in his hand, his boyfriend by his side, and his loving family inside the house.
If someone had told him a year ago that this was how his life would be in a year, he would have laughed at them.
That can't be true. He'd tell them. That's too good. Nothing good ever happens to Alexander Hamilton.
If only he could see me now. Alex thought. If only that poor lonely boy in Nevis could see how wonderfully his life would turn out.
So, young Alex, this is what it feels like to be happy.
This is what it feels like to trust.