Flipped // DNF

Chapter Nine

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter includes ableist references, suicidal thoughts, and homophobia.

Clay and his family were at the table eating breakfast.

"We're going to invite George's family over for dinner," his mother announces.

"What?" His father choked.

"I don't know, mom," Clay said.

"I think that's a marvelous idea," his grandfather chirped.

"Honey, what purpose does this serve?" His father asked.

"George's mother is a very nice person," his mother replied.

"And his brothers are really cool," his sister added.

"I hate cool," his father said, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

"This is something we should've done years ago," his mother mumbled.

"Yeah, but we didn't. And now we can't. The statute of limitations has run out."

"We're having them over for dinner," his mother protested.

"If this is about what I said last night, I'm sorry, okay? But, you know, having them over for dinner isn't going to fix his brother," his dad blurted out.

"It's going to be a sit-down dinner. And I expect everyone to dress accordingly."

Everyone at the table sighed.

"Oh, God," his father mumbled. "Can't we just have a barbecue or something?"

"It is going to be a sit-down dinner." His mother was getting angry.

His father sighed. "Just shoot me now."

"Be careful what you wish for," his grandfather smirked.

So, that was it. A dress-up, sit-down, dinner with George was in my immediate future. And that made seeing George at school even more uncomfortable.

I found myself staring at him in class. And the way his hair sat there, so perfectly on his head, he looked just like the picture in the newspaper.

Niki caught me watching. If I didn't do something fast, this could spread like a wildfire.

"There was a bee in his hair," Clay said, thinking he saved himself. "See, there it goes."

"There's no bee," Niki said, confused.

"It flew out the window." Clay was embarrassed.

I convinced myself I dodged a bullet.

I had to get George out of my mind, keep the focus on important stuff, like schoolwork.

My weakness was unnerving.

Later that day, Clay was sitting at his desk in his bedroom. He pulled the newsletter out from his desk, looking at the picture of George, when his door busted open. He quickly hid the newsletter and turned around, only to see his sister.

"I need your pencil sharpener," his sister said.

"You ever heard of knocking," Clay yelled.

"Hey, what you got there? Dad's playboy?" His sister teased.

"None of your business," Clay yelled.

"Give my best to Miss October."

"Get out," he yelled louder.

"Or should I say 'your best?'" She laughed.

"You're disgusting."

His sister laughed, running out of his room and shutting the door behind her.

Another disaster avoided. My life had become a minefield.

The next day, Clay was at school, sitting at his desk. Then, Nick walked into the classroom and sat down next to Clay.

"Hey, man," Nick said while sitting down.

"Hey," Clay smiled.

Clay had brought the newsletter to school with him. It was poorly hidden in his binder.

"What's this?" Nick asked, pulling the newsletter out of his binder. "Whoa."

"It's not what you think."

Nick stared at Clay, saying nothing.

"Okay, it is what you think, but I can explain."

Nick still said nothing.

"Okay, I can't explain. Can we just talk about it later?"

"Whatever you say," Nick mumbled.

I had to talk to someone. Why not Sapnap? Maybe he could help me get back on track.

Sapnap was surprisingly sensitive in the matters of heart.

Later that day, they went to the library to talk.

"Are you freaking mental? George? You hate him," Nick yelled.

"That's what's weird. I don't think I do. I can't stop thinking about him."

"You got it bad, man."

"Well, what do I do?"

"Well, you gotta nip this in the bud. These aren't real emotions."

"They're not?" Clay was confused.

"You're not gay. You can't be. You just feel guilty because of the egg thing."

"Well, yeah, and I insulted his yard."

"Exactly. Of course, the place is a dump anyway."

"Yeah, well, his dad's got a handicap brother and all their money goes to helping him." Clay started to feel bad.

"He's a handicap? Well, shoot, that ought to tell you something."

"About what?" Clay was getting more confused.

"About George."

"What are you saying?"

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, my friend," Nick smirked.

I couldn't believe it. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him that he didn't know George like I did. But all that came out was a laugh.

"Yeah," Nick laughed.

"Right." Clay was furious, but couldn't do anything about it. It was too late. "Um, I'll talk to you later."

I was supposed to go to Nick's after school, but I couldn't be around him. He'd crossed the line. And standing right next to him, across the line, was my father. I didn't care what they thought.

I liked George.