Courage

Chapter Twenty-Eight

[Maya]

"I just need to talk to her, that's all," I said to my mom while helping her clean up the kitchen. My dad had went to bed early, I didn't care for the reason, though, I was worried about Fran.

"Just let her be, Maya," my mom urged.

"No. If you were in my place, and Dad was Francesca, what would you do?" I challenged.

"I'd go after him," she answered with certainty.

"That's what I thought."

"Because what we have is real love. Whatever you and Francesca have is just a phase. It's not real love. You don't have real feelings toward her."

The dish that was once in my hand was now in pieces, scattered on the floor.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me how I feel?" I demanded.

"I know you, Maya. And I know that you belong with a man, and Francesca belongs with a man as well."

"No, I belong with Francesca and she belongs with me," I countered. "I've never felt the way I feel towards her toward anyone else. That's one of the things that makes her special to me."

"You'll find love, Maya. Don't worry."

"I don't want to be with someone who isn't Francesca!"

"All I'm hearing is, you care about her, but it's not the other way around."

"She does care about me!" I vociferated. "She's the only person in this world who I feel will do anything for me, who'll defend me, and even do things for me that may get her in trouble." My tone came down and my vision was blurred from the tears in my eyes.

"I like the fact that I have someone I can depend on, a ride or die or an advocate, at least," I continued. "I don't want a boyfriend or husband, I want her."

The last thing I remember from that was my mom cradling me in her arms, telling me "I'm so sorry, baby."

I woke up in my old room the next day, Gigi had sent me a text message.

Today 8:05

Gigi
Sorry about Brandon.

Also, I support you and whoever you love, no matter what.

You
Thanks!

I've always liked Gigi, sometimes I wonder why she's with my asshole brother.

Today at breakfast, my parents did something unexpected; they apologized to me.

"Maya, I am so sorry," my dad apologized. "We haven't been doing our job as parents to teach you that you can like whoever you want to like. Gay or straight, we still love you."

"I'm especially sorry, baby," my mother expressed. "If we hadn't been so ignorant, you wouldn't be going through this."

My parents apologizing to me. This was very strange.

"We will try to be more understanding of you," my dad continued. "And please, if we say or do anything that bothers you, tell us."

One minute my parents were homophobic, the next they're not. Maybe because their bisexual daughter who was scared to tell them she's bisexual has changed their perspective on homosexuality.

I stood up. "Well I appreciate this. Um, but I'm going to go talk to Francesca, though."

"Are you sure?" my mom verified. "She left pretty abruptly."

"I'm sure," I sighed.

When I left I immediately went back to the apartment. I found Francesca on the couch, reading.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"Hi," she returned, her expression was unreadable.

"Can we talk?" I asked. She nodded and made space on the couch. "I am so sorry I lied to you, you have every right to be mad at me. So please, if it makes you feel better, call every bad name you can think of."

While she deliberated, I was mentally preparing myself for the vitriol she was about to spew.

"I'm not going to do that," she finally said.

"Why not?"

"Because, although I'm upset that you lied to me, I can understand that you were nervous to tell your parents. I'd rather that be the reason than you being ashamed of me." Her words offended me and hurt me.

"Oh, Fran! How could you ever think that? Never in a million years would I ever be ashamed of you or our relationship."

"Really?" A smile crept onto her lips.

"Yes, really! I can't believe you even have to ask that! My god, do you understand how much I love you?" I was too hysterical to even think about what was coming out of my mouth.

"You love me?" she asked quietly.

Would she say it back? Probably, probably not. Would that make me love her any less? Hell no!

"Yes! Yes! Yes, Franny, I do love you!" I sat on her lap.

She kissed me fervently and then . . .

"I love you, too."