Chapter 2: Chapter One

GUYS! WATCH THE SLIDESHOW! I SPENT TIME ON IT! APPRECIATE IT! NO SERIOUSLY WATCH IT THOUGH BECAUSE I WANT YOU GUYS TO SEE HIS SEXY PARENTS AND HIS SEXY HOUSE. :P

BTW, I love Paula Patton. She’s so beautiful and she’s always smiling and she’s a great actress.

Nothing felt right anymore. Feeling like that makes me want to go away, far way, to someplace where I don’t know anyone. There won’t be anyone looking at me questioningly, wondering if I’m really happy or faking it. There won’t be anyone constantly asking me if I’m okay or trying to set me up on dates. I don’t want to date and if I want to fuck there’s someone I can call for that who is more than willing to bend over for me. I usually call him when I get deep inside my head and I wanted to let go and forget everything. It’s a great agreement since he doesn’t expect anything else but sex from me and that’s all we expect of each other.

My father had texted me saying he wanted to speak to me so I headed to their bedroom, raising my hand to knock on the door that was slightly ajar. I stopped though, when I heard my mom’s worried voice. “He’s not happy, Cristiano. He hasn’t been happy since he graduated high school and he’s been worst these past few months. I know my son and I know that he isn’t happy. What do we do, Cris?” I’m fine!

“He wants to go and there’s nothing we can do about it.  I trust him to make his own decisions, no one knows what he wants more than he does and what’s best for him”

“But—”

“Even if we’re his parents he knows more than we do,” Dad cut her off quickly. My parents have always been affectionate with each other, and in this moment I pictured his arms around her as he comforted her. I pushed the image away, not wanting my head to go where it does. I can’t handle that right now and my mom was already worried about me.

Instead of knocking, I retreated, making my way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for my family; this was the last breakfast I’ll have with them until I come home on break. I got flour, salt, baking powder, eggs, sugar, milk, and oil to make waffles; I took out bacon…lots of it, more eggs, and sausages. I made the batter and poured some on the waffle maker. My mom walked him just as I placed everything on the counter top.

“Morning, mom,” I greeted as I walked over and kissed her on her cheek. She looked surprised but soon she smiled beautifully at me. And that’s the mom I’m used to, always smiling.

“Good morning.” I smiled at her.

“Morning dad,” I greeted my father.

“Morning.” He came over, kissed my cheek then my forehead. Yes, Hispanic men, so affectionate.

“Would you like some help?” My mom asked. I loved my mom’s voice and I loved her laugh even more.

“Yes, please.”

“Where’s Michaela?” Dad asked with a frown as he pulled some fruits out of the refrigerator.

“Cris, it’s minutes after eight in the morning where do you think she is?” Mom answered dad. And that’s how we spent breakfast. The more I talked and made jokes I could see the tension slowly disappearing from my parents’ bodies. I’m not going to lie. I’m not all rainbows and unicorn happy; I’m just fine. Being “just fine” is perfectly fine with me.

Maybe it would help if I told them what happened. The only persons who know are Nigel and Michaela. Though, Michaela doesn’t know the whole story. Nigel is one of the annoying little shits who keep trying to set me up on dates. The other annoying little shit would be Michaela, who has tried and was unsuccessful in setting me up with her friends’ older brothers or her friends’ older brother’s friend. She even tried setting me up with a teacher. I went on a date with him, just for Michaela’s sake and I have to admit that after seeing him it was really tempting. He was one hot teacher but we both knew we weren’t what he or I was looking for and we chat every now and then. He’s a cool dude.

This is going to be hard but I think it will ease their mind and they’ll stop thinking the worst, like I was kidnapped and molested by aliens. Also, I think it will be good for me too.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like to share something with you. The reason why you guys think there is something wrong with me.” They shared looks with each other before slowly putting down whatever they had in their hands and turned the stove off. “It started the last week of high school…” And that’s how I told them everything, including what happened when we ran from the house. How I finally had the boy I’ve always wanted in my arms, literally and then he just disappeared without a reason. All he had to give me was a Facebook status to say “sorry”.

I told them how I spent numerous amounts of nights in my bed just staring at nothing and begging myself to sleep. How I had to force myself to eat and get up and do something so that they wouldn’t notice. How at first I told myself that it didn’t matter because if he could do that to me he wasn’t worth fretting over. That proved harder than I thought it would have been because I couldn’t stop wondering why?

And those three words would be the basis of my problem, the reason why I am stuck in this spiraling word of questions. I’ll never be able to escape unless I get answers. I know I shouldn’t be feeling like this after a year and I scold myself for it everyday. Then the worst started happening about two months ago when I couldn’t stop myself and I went into Nigel’s Facebook account to look at him and see how he’s doing. He’s doing pretty well, both him and his boyfriend. That’s the “few months” my mom was referring about. That’s basically when I withdrew from everyone and everything, when I wanted to get away. When I finished my mom had long streaks of tears running down her cheeks with her hands over her mouth. My dad just looked frozen. Obviously they weren’t expecting me to say all of that or share my feelings with them. It caught me off guard when my mom rushed from the counter and wrapper her tiny arms around my neck, crying in my shoulder. I made a face at my dad, telling him to help me and it’s really not that serious. He shrugged and let the woman practically chocking me to my death.

“Mom,” I whined. “I’m fine, really”

“Obviously you’re not!” She snapped, shocking me. She pulled away and wiped at her face roughly. “You had your heartbroken and you had to go through it all by yourself!”

“Michaela and Nigel knew; they were there for me. You guys are only in this state—hell, in this country for so long and I didn’t want to bother you guys with my gay drama.” I regretted the second I said it. My mom looked like I had just told her I hated her and she was a bad parent. Fuck me!

“Travis!”

“I know, I know, I’m going,” I sighed then went after my mom. I reached the foyer and I got a glimpse of her as she went right. Climbing these stairs is a fucking workout.

Knowing she wouldn’t have answered if I knocked, I turned the nob and went right in. Unlike most rooms, their bed wasn’t as you entered; instead, there was a small sitting area with a small sofa, loveseats, and a small coffee table. Off to my left was their actual bedroom with the bed, closet and en suit. Their  “master bedroom” is like two separate rooms. My dad had it remodeled, redecorated, re-everything for my mom. According to him, he’s just an occupant in the room.

My heart tightened painfully in my chest when I saw my mom sitting with one leg folded beneath her.  I walked over to her, and from her lack of movement I knew she wasn’t aware of my presence. “Mom,” I said and she jumped, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Come here, baby,” she whispered softly. Yes, she stilled called me baby, in fact, all three of us are her babies.

She grabbed a couch pillow, put it in her lap. We used to do this all the time whenever they were home. I’d come in here, lie in her lap and tell her what’s going on with me. She’d listen and ran her hand through my hair. Sometimes she would braid cornrows and just listen while I told her everything. I always had her full attention and I never felt unloved by her, even when I haven’t seen them for months at a time, not even when she wasn’t speaking to me. And this exact position I’m in was the same position I was in when I told her I was gay. Her hand went still in my hair, I kept calling her name but she wouldn’t say anything. Even though my dad was sitting across from us I wasn’t worried about him at the time but he was the one who told me to go to my room and he would come talk to me after he spoke with her. I was on the verge of crying when my dad grabbed my cheeks, patted it gently before kissing me on my cheek then forehead and motioned with his head for me to go.

“I know I wasn’t accepting of you in the beginning and I can apologize for that so many times—”

“Mom—”

“Travis, I’m speaking.”

“’Kay”

“As I was saying, I wasn’t accepting but I never intended for to you feel as if the fact that you’re gay meant things had changed between us. We used to talk about everything and then you just shut off from me. Why?”

I gulped a mouthful of air. It was never my intention to hurt her. “It was already hard for you to accept that and I didn’t want to force anything on you or make you uncomfortable”

“I’m sorry, Travis,”

“Ma, It’s okay; stop apologizing,” I declared with playful irritation.

She laughed bringing a wave of happiness only a mother could bring to me. “So this boy. I would ask but I don’t think you want to talk about it”

I fold my lip in my mouth, wetting them with the tip of my tongue, contemplating whether or not I want to talk about him. “It’s pathetic,” I said finally.

“Why’s that?” Mom asked and I relaxed, remembering old times.

“Who stays hung up on somebody they had one afternoon with, being aware that that person have moved on?” I mumbled. As I asked, I felt like the question was more for me than for her.

“Someone who can’t control how they feel. It’s not a matter of choice and there must have been something special about him for you to have felt that connection.” I shrugged.

“I wish it would go away”

“And I wish you weren’t hurting.”  I turned on my back and looked in her eyes.

“I’m sorry for leaving,” I said softly. She smiled before grabbing my cheeks and making baby noises at me. “Mom!” I whined.

“Don’t apologize, I understand now. This’ll be good for you and you have my blessing.”

I smiled, “Thanks”

“Travis?”

“Hmm?”

“If you don’t answer my calls or call me back I will hunt you down and cut your penis off, okay sweetie?”

What the fuck? “My God, woman!”

“Let’s go, your father is probably worried.” I kept my distance as we made our way downstairs. My mom just scared the shit out of me. We went back to the kitchen to see breakfast was already made and dad was taking the last plate of waffles and he made pancakes to the dinning room.

“Hey, Mickey! You’re awake!” Before I could blink, her fist connected with my cheek, shocking all of us.

“Michaela!” Mom and Dad shouted at the same time. We’re usually pretty rough with each other but she had never punched me like this before. The fact that she had tears in her eyes just confused me more.

“Why did you hit him?” Dad asked, coming to stand between the both of us. I heard her sniffle then she took off running.

“Travis,” Mom called, getting my attention. She handed me a ice pack and turned in the direction Michaela had ran off to.

“I got her,” I told mom. “What’s with women being mad at me today?”