My Queer Superpower

Chapter Seventeen

I went home wearing my cherry red glasses with a slight spring in my step. It was funny how the prospect of carving my eye out could make me so optimistic about dreadfully unfashionable eye wear.

This time, I had a lens for the left eye as well, so it didn't have to work so hard to balance out my vision. It used to be seen as a lost cause since surgery was inevitable, but this arrangement eased the pulsing sensation.

All was well for now.

I changed into a red and black, buffalo check flannel and some black skinny jeans, then I took a nap since the school day wasn't over. Faith and Saylor were obviously unavailable, so I had nothing else to occupy my time.

I woke up to Drake complaining about getting too many compliments. Headlines was blaring over my cellphone speaker. It took a moment for me to realize whose custom ringtone it was. I hadn't heard it in years. I fell off my bed scrambling to grab my phone off the nightstand when I made the connection.

Jerri glowed brightly on the screen, begging me to answer the call. I thought about my promise to Faith and slid my phone underneath my bed. I heard it thump against the wall it was butted up against. It was going to be a pain in the ass whenever I decided to retrieve it.

Mom was downstairs and I knew what I had to do. I wasn't sure if it was worth it though. Jerome had called me, which had to mean something, but I doubted it meant what I wanted it to. I always imagined coming out to Mom when I had a boyfriend to bring home to her. It wouldn't have felt real otherwise.

I anticipated questions like 'how do you know this isn't a phase?' or 'who's to say you'll ever fall in love with a guy that likes you the same way?' Those questions always went with terrible advice like 'we all have to settle sometimes' or 'relationships don't have to be about sex, take your father and I for example, we stopped having sex years before anything went wrong'. I sincerely hoped she didn't actually believe the latter had nothing to do with their marriage failing.

I groaned heavily. I was so not ready for this. I walked death row to the bottom of the steps with a go-bag at the ready. Mom was on the couch laughing hysterically at some absolutely terrible Telenovela.

Those shows weren't usually the mood, but it was her day off and she'd been pretty open minded about cable's offerings lately. I hope that same open mindedness carried over to our impending discussion.

I sat down quietly on the other side of the couch. I didn't want to disturb her. I wasn't ready to speak yet. The couch reclined on both ends, but not in the middle, so while she watched the show I inched closer to her.

I hoped she'd realize something was off when I didn't use the recliner. I thought it was better that way. I told myself it'd be easier if she probed to figure out what was bothering me.

Two commercials later, Mom still hadn't said anything. Two more and I was right beside her. I didn't want to resort to sighing because that would've been too obvious. Instead, I laid down and rested my head on her lap. I hadn't done that in years, but I was a momma's boy through and through, so it didn't strike her as odd.

Mom tousled my hair a bit as her show rolled credits, then gently bounced her legs. That was my cue to get up. I did, but not before taking off my glasses. To escape, she'd have to suffer through the full strength of the son with the world's saddest eyes. I was quite adept at making them look glassy.

This time, I didn't have try very hard.

Mom sighed heavily. "I won't hear a word about Bobby. I'm a grown ass woman. I'm allowed to make whatever choice I want to make when I want to make it." I'm not sure what type of face I made, but I probably couldn't have done it again on command.