Crashing into You (Wattpad Edition)

Chapter Seventeen: What Will People Think?

Trigger warning: homophobic slurs

Telling my uncle about joining the art club and auditioning for the One Act Play in winter didn't go as I'd hoped.

"Colleges will want to see you involved in activities year-round, not just for 2 or 3 months of the school year. I was on the Morality Committee when I was at the academy, and I played football and baseball, on top of being involved in Bible studies and volunteer organizations," Uncle Dan said in between bites of well-done steak.

"They might make an exception for me. It's not like my situation is normal. Anyway, if I join the art club, I could start tomorrow," I said, "And next year I would be in theater all school year. I'm even thinking of trying out for the Show Choir next year."

"That's another thing," Dan's voice grew louder. "Art, theater, and choir? Being involved in the arts can be a good thing, but you really should think about the kind of message you might be sending."

"What do you mean?" I asked, though I knew perfectly well what he meant.

"What you do is a reflection of your aunt and I, as your guardians. I know you're 'sensitive'" he put up air quotes with his fingers, "but you don't want people to think that's all you are. If you're going to be successful in any business, you can't let people see you as some sort of nancy boy."

A slight gasp escaped Felicity, before she stopped him from saying anything else.

"Daniel! I'm sure nobody will think that. These are the things that Tristan is interested in, and I think it will be a great way for him to make friends," her voice strained desperately; I could tell she was grasping at straws.

Uncle Dan ignored her and kept his gaze towards me as he continued.

"You're signing up for other clubs. You can be involved in the arts, but you're going to also sign up for some academic and community outreach clubs. I can't have people thinking that I'm raising some sort of fruit."

Another small gasp escaped Felicity, but she just looked down at her plate and poked at her vegetables.

She's throwing in the towel. I'm sure as hell not.

"You're not raising me!" I shouted at him, throwing my silverware onto my plate, "My parents already did that. Why do you care so much what people think of me? They know I'm not yours. Trust me, no one thinks you raised me."

I can't believe I just did that.

Everything I'd been bottling inside for the last week came bursting out.

Uncle Dan raised an eyebrow .

"Don't you care what people might think of you? I know how the world works. If you limit yourself to singing, dancing, and acting, people are going to think you're a fag. That's just a fact. Maybe it didn't matter in public school, where I'm sure there are quite a few deviants. You're probably even friends with some. But at the Academy, it matters. You give people the wrong idea, and you're going to get hurt."

Did he just fucking say that?

I leaned forward in my seat and glared at him.

"Do you know where the word 'fag' comes from? You don't get to use that word. And for the record, I don't care what the people at that school think of me! I don't care if people assume I'm gay! I don't care if I get expelled, and I don't care what they might do to me."

"Then it's a good thing that I care enough for the both of us," Dan said. "If you're done with your outburst, you're excused."

"Thank God," I said, throwing my napkin onto the table and standing , nearly tipping my chair over.