Page 63 of Breaking Free
Dad’s never been able to say no to Mom and the little things she wants built, but he also enjoys the time down there. He says it’s a destresser from his job, so I guess it works out well for both of them.
“You want something to drink, baby?” Mom asks.
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
“You still coming down for Thanksgiving?”
“Of course,” I reply with a smile. “Think I’m missing out on your food? No, ma’am. I’ll be here.”
She grins, shaking her head at me. My smile drops when it hits me. Maybe I’ll be here. Depends on how they take this news.
“How’s school?”
“It’s pretty good. Not failing yet.”
With a laugh, she says, “Well, that’s good. And football?”
“It’s good. I guess. I don’t know. I had some rough practices and Coach is making me work for my spot, but you know.” I shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
She walks to the doorway that leads to the basement. “Marshall, Trevor’s here,” she yells down.
I move some pillows out of the way and sit on the gray couch, watching her take a seat on the one opposite me. She watches me with a curious gaze, like she knows something’s up. I look away, acting like I’m taking in the room.
“You redecorated.”
“A little. You know me and your dad work a lot, so any projects we try to do usually take quite a while. We just finished painting last week, and got some new furniture pieces.”
Silence settles over us again as my eyes move between all the photos on the walls and shelves.
“Trevor,” she says softly, waiting for me to look at her. I turn my head slowly, my eyes lifting to meet hers. She cocks her head, her brows dipping in the middle. “What—”
“Hey! Look who’s here,” Dad says, emerging from the basement.
I stand up and give him a hug. “Hey, Dad.”
“How are you?” he asks, moving to sit next to Mom.
“I’m good. Mom said you’re working on a new project,” I say, quickly shifting the focus on him.
“Oh yeah, a new table. I’m about halfway done.”
I nod, wondering how to segue intoI’m gay.
I don’t miss when Mom places a hand on Dad’s knee, both of them watching me. I sit up and rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Um, I wanted to come by and see you guys, you know? And maybe just, I don’t know. Talk.”
“Okay, well, you know we—” Dad starts.
“Marshall, wait,” Mom says, cutting him off.
I study both their faces for several seconds, and emotion burns at the backs of my eyes as I wonder if this will be the last time I see them happy. Will they kick me out of my house since they own it? Will I lose my parents and a place to live at once? I want to say I know that’s not the case, but you can never be too sure.
I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “Um. I—I like. I’m...gay.” I let it settle for just a second before I force myself to stare into their eyes. “I’m gay.”
They don’t say anything right away, but Mom’s lips press into a line as her eyes water. “Oh, honey.”
The nerves are tied up into a knot in my stomach, and my heart pounds heavily in my chest. I feel like I’m gonna throw up and have a heart attack at once.
Mom rushes over first, sitting next to me and taking my clammy hand in hers. She looks in my eyes and brushes a fallen lock of hair off my forehead. “I’m glad you told us.”