Prodigal

~4~

“So tell me again,” Sarah started as we walked into my room and closed the door so we could have privacy. “Your dad thinks you’re gay?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” I said back.

“Okay.” Sarah said, sitting down on my bed. “Why do you think that?”

“I’m confused.” I confessed. “I don’t find anything about a girl…interesting. I find guys a little interesting, but they’re not super exciting either. Yes, I think guys are, quote on quote, hot, but I thought girls were, too.”

“It’s 2032,” Sarah said, “I thought the days of being afraid to come out ended twenty years ago.”

“I’m not afraid, necessarily.” I said. “I just don’t think I should say anything until I can sort through what I actually am.”

“And you’re a little afraid.”

“Yes.” I finally admitted. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of my dad a little but mostly the extended family and friends that are always here. Ashton, Calum and Michael practically live here half the time How do I know they’ll be cool? What about Jack, or your mom and dad? What about Grandma and Grandpa? Do you see why I don’t want to come out if I’m not sure?”

“Yeah, I see.” Sarah said. We hugged, and then rejoined the party.

That night, I came to a realization. It was after the party, it was late at night and I was really tired. I was sitting in the living room with Dad. I was on my phone and he was watching TV.

Dad, being suspicions about if I was gay or not, because he kept hinting at me to tell him. For example, on the TV there was a couple, a man and a woman, that were almost completely naked.

“She’s kinda hot.” Dad said, making a painfully obvious allusion. I didn’t say anything. “Do you think she’s hot?”

He was asking me. He was straight up asking me. I guess this was my chance. I would stop lying.

“No.” I said quietly, almost ashamed.

Dad didn’t say anything for a minute. “Do you think he’s hot?” He asked.

I thought about the question seriously for a minute. “Not really.” I said.

Dad didn’t say anything for a minute. He was confused by the answer. “Who do you think is hot?” He asked.

I thought about that question for a minute, and then came to a realization. “No one, really.” I said. “No one that I can think of.”

“Okay…” Dad said, not knowing how to respond to that. “Do you think…you’re still too young?”

The conversation was officially starting to make me uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Dad. Do I have to have this sorted out now?”

“No.” He responded. And with that, I went to bed.

Notes

I know, I know, this is the occurring theme in all my stories. I hope y'all don't mind!