Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IT ALMOST LOOKED like a wedding venue, what with the pavilion and the white benches in rows for both the graduates and the parents to sit, the walkway framed with flowers. Billy and Nancy got ready next to each other — none of the other boys really minded her coming into their shared bathroom to stand in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. They both just stared at their reflections. This was it. The moment they've been waiting for. They managed to get through conversion therapy. And now everything was going to be better. Billy didn't really believe that, but maybe if he told himself often enough, it'd become reality eventually.
„So, are you ready?" Nancy focused on poking an oversized pearl erring through the hole in her ear, only taking a brief glance at Billy through the mirror. She was wearing an awful hot pink latex dress, and he was wearing a blue tuxedo.
He shrugged. „Does that change anything?" He put some gel in his hair and started to comb it back. Jesus Christ, he looked ridiculous. He grimaced as a particularly stubborn curl fell into his forehead. For a moment, he considered to leave it there, but then he slicked it back, as well. This was a plastic play pretend ceremony. No room for any sort of imperfection.
„You look dumb," Nancy's voice was hollow, and it had been ever since the fight with Robin two days ago. She seemed tired, defeated, so much that Billy didn't even bother to answer to her teasing. She felt like shit already, so really, what was the point? Besides, she wasn't wrong. He did look dumb with the slicked back hair and the entirely buttoned shirt. He couldn't get himself to shave his mustache — that baby had been the result of nurture and determination, and also he hoped it might grow into something respectable one day.
„Let's go," Billy muttered, running a hand over his face. Another day of acting, how hard could it be, really? He'd been practicing for seventeen years, he should've perfected the art of playing pretend by now.
It was a hot day, and the moment Billy stepped out in the harsh midday sun, welding beads started to form on his forehead. Why did the girls get to wear a dress that ended just below the knees and he had to wear full-length suit pants? Sometimes, Billy questioned if it was really women that were discriminated against. Right now, he felt like the victim of it all.
Just for that extra bit of show, he slipped his hand into Nancy's, interlocking his fingers with hers. He could see his father's back, but this time, he didn't come alone: He saw two heads full of red hair sitting next to him and it made him feel slightly sick. Susan and Max weren't his family. They had no business being here.
Nancy's eyes darted over to four people sitting on the bench next to Billy's family: a stocky middle-aged man with big, square glasses seated next to a ridiculously attractive woman with bleached hair, in addition to a little girl and a freckled boy, about 10, with dark hair, looking out of his mind bored. They looked dull, just your average middle class American nuclear family. Like what was going to be in stall for Billy. What a bright future ahead of him!
