I was greeted by whispers, giggles, and shocked faces as I walked down the hallway. Some students just looked at me with dead-eyed stares. I did my best to ignore them.
Groups of students huddling together stole glances at me while murmuring behind cupped hands. I caught snippets of their conversations. What the fuck is wrong with him? Is he trying to be a girl?
Liv squeezed my arm and smiled reassuringly at me. I only looked down at my feet and swallowed hard in response. I dropped my stuff at my locker and took off my jacket, revealing my shirt like it was a suit of armor.
I pretended I didn't notice anyone or anything, acted like it didn't hurt my feelings. I wore a different persona that day. In a way, I was channeling Miles, a boy who was unapologetic about who he was and didn't care if others knew it.
Fake it 'til you make it, as they say.
I think, in a way, the way I dressed and the fake confidence that radiated off of me helped the situation at school a bit. Sure, people were still mean, but more students just steered clear of me. I had become a social pariah.
Ergo, by association, so did Liv. That, I think, was the worst thing about the situation. People called her my beard, a dyke, and any other unoriginal insults their small minds could think up.
At lunch, she and I sat at our own table in the cafeteriaâour little island of isolation.
"Con," Liv said as we ate, "I think you're the coolest person I've ever met in my entire life."
"You haven't met very many people, then," I replied, taking a bite of my sandwich.
"No, I'm serious!" She put a hand on my arm. "You're so brave. You're so...I can't think of another word for 'cool.' I mean, you had the audacity to be something other than the status quo, you know? That's cool."
I rolled my eyes at her sincerity. "I haven't done anything. All I did was show up at school with a little bit of makeup. It's not exactly revolutionary."
Liv gently kicked my leg under the table. "Stop being so self-deprecating. I think you are revolutionary."
"If you keep gassing me up like this, it's gonna go right to my head."
"Oh, I'm counting on it." She winked at me.
I looked around the cafeteria and felt a pang in my chest when I once again remembered Josh had been suspended. Then, I saw my "friends" and felt even worse. How they could just move on and be happy to ignore my existence hurt my feelings more than I cared to admit.
However, I did notice Jake wasn't sitting with his friends, and Rylee was back sitting with her own friend group.
"Where's Jake?" I asked Liv.
She glanced around the cafeteria and then shrugged. "I don't know. I heard he and Rylee broke up. He's been texting me, telling me he wants to talk to me, but I ignore him."
I frowned. "I'm sorry, Liv. I didn't mean for this to affect you. I mean, you could still hangout withâ"
"Nope," she interrupted me. "I have no interest in being friends with bigots. And you have nothing to apologize to me for." She paused, then added, "I actually have something to tell you. About the night at the party."
"What?" I asked, suddenly filled with dread.
Liv had a guilty look on her face and she bit her lip. "Um, well...before the whole...thing went down, when we played spin the bottle, I may have kissed Jake again."
My mouth dropped open. "What? Liv! He was dating Rylee."
"I know, I know," she said quickly. "But it was her idea to play. They did get into a fight about it, though, but I thought they made up 'cause they were all over each other again yesterday. But anyway, I was afraid to tell you. I obviously hate him now because he's a homophobic asshole."
"Do you...did you have feelings for him?"
Liv shrugged. "I mean, I really didn't think I did until he started going out with Rylee. Such a cliché, right?" She laughed. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to tell you so there weren't any secrets or whatever between us."
I smiled at her. "It's okay if you're still into him."
She shook her head. "Nope. He's dead to me."
Before I could respond, two guys walked past our table. One was David, and the other I recognized as a football player, but couldn't recall his name. I noticed David's nose was swollen and a bruise had spread across the bridge of his nose and underneath his eyes. Not gonna lie, seeing it made me a little happy.
David paused in front of our table and stared down at me. "You know, Connor," he said, "I've been wondering something, and I just have to ask. What's it like being Josh's bitch?"
The football player let out an obnoxious laugh.
Normally, I was pretty good at coming up with clever comebacks. However, the way they sneered at me and the look in their eyes, the same looks everyone else had been throwing my way, made my brain go blank. Instead, heat rose to my face. I just wanted to disappear forever.
Liv, though, came to my rescue. With a fake look of wide-eyed innocence, she replied, "Can you two mouth-breathing Neanderthals please take your micropenises elsewhere before your stupidity rubs off on the rest of us?" Her voice sounded sugary sweet, but her words were cutting.
I couldn't help but snort at her response.
"Fucking losers," David spat at us before walking away with his friend.
I turned to Liv, a smile spreading across my face. "Wait, that was amazing. Thank you."
She shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich.
"I think you're the cool one here," I told her.
Liv laughed. "Yeah, insults about dick size are really clever and original."
"I can't believe you called them Neanderthals," I said, fighting back a fit of laughter. "Fuck, that's good." I paused then. "Wait, you don't think David's gonna like, corner me in the parking lot and beat me up later, do you?"
"Eh," Liv said, waving a hand like she was swatting my concerns away. "I think you could take him if he did. His dick is too small to maintain equilibrium. You'd just have to blow on him and he'd lose balance."
"Have you always been this savage?" I asked, laughing.
"Assholes just bring it out of me, I guess." She grinned.
***
Liv dropped me off at home after school. I knew my parents would be home soon enough and that I'd actually have to engage in some sort of conversation with them. I'd rehearsed over and over what I wanted to say to them, but I couldn't control how they'd react or how I would feel in the moment.
In the meantime, I changed my shirt and washed the makeup off of my face. I didn't want any of that to distract them from what I'd say.
I waited in my room until I heard my mom come home, shortly after followed by my dad. I took a deep breath and went downstairs. They both stood in the kitchen, like they'd been waiting for me.
"I think we should talk," I said.
"I think we should, too," my mom said. My dad remained silent, not even looking at me. I tried to ignore how much that hurt.
"I just want you both to hear me out and listen to what I have to say."
"We want you to listen to what we have to say first," my mom told me. I could tell she was struggling to keep her voice even.
"You...telling us that you're...gay...it just doesn't make any kind of sense. You grew up in the church and you know how we feel about that...lifestyle. Regardless of whether or not you think that you were born this way, living that kind of life will be hard. I mean, two men...being together? What about having kids when you grow up? What about what people will say? How are we supposed to tell our friends and our relatives? What will people think?"
"What about what I think?" I asked, trying not to lose control of my emotions. "What about how I feel? I mean, I'm still your son. I'm the same person I've always been. I haven't changed."
My dad still stood there, a stony look on his face. My mom sighed. "I think this is just a phase. What about Olivia? I've seen the way you two look at each other." There was a hint of desperation in her voice.
"I'm not attracted to Liv. She's my best friend. That's all she's ever been." I let out a frustrated sigh. "Mom, I've known I'm gay for years. This isn't some sudden development."
I looked at my dad, who stared literally anywhere but at me. I finally blurted out, "Why won't you look at me? Are you really that ashamed of me?"
My dad finally lifted his gaze to meet my eyes. He didn't look angry, more...sad. "Of course I'm ashamed," he said. "We both are. This is not what we raised you to be."
Maybe it was my own fault for thinking that we could have a normal, rational conversation about everything. Because then and there, I knew that no matter what I said, no matter how clearly I tried to explain it to them, that they wouldn't understand. They wouldn't even try to understand.
My parents, who'd raised me and loved me for 18 years, didn't see me the same anymore. I was basically a stranger living in their house.
"I can't do this," I said, and left them. I went upstairs, pulled out a duffel bag, and hurriedly stuffed any essentials and a few changes of clothes into it. I grabbed my car keys and went back downstairs.
"Connor, where are you going?" my mom asked.
"Anywhere that's not here," I said and walked out the front door, slamming it shut behind me.
My decision to leave hadn't hit me yet as I got into my car and drove away. It didn't hit me as I drove down the streetânot even when I arrived at my destination, parked my car, and grabbed my duffel bag.
I walked up the sidewalk, up to the front door, and knocked. A few moments later, the door swung open.
"Connor?"
"Uh, hi, Miles. Um...could I maybe come in?"