Hero sat on the couch, silently watching tv with his younger brother. They were waiting for dinner to be finished. Normally they weren't allowed to watch tv so late in the evening, but their parents let them tonight for whatever reason.
They were watching cartoons, which for any normal thirteen year old boy would be boring and considered childish. But Hero enjoyed it. Something about it made him happy.
"This is boring." Kel mutters.
Hero glances at Kel, he opens his mouth and forces his voice. "Is it?" He asks, trying to keep his voice normal.
"Mhm, sí. Siguen repitiendo las mismas cosas. It's boring." (They keep repeating the same things.) Kel huffs and sprawls out his limbs across the couch.
Hero looks back at the screen, "Sí, supongo que sí." (Yeah, I guess they do.) He musters up a small smile, "I enjoy it. Es interesante." (It's interesting.)
Kel scoffs, "Es para bebés. Un espectáculo aburrido para bebés aburridos." (It's for babies. A boring show for boring babies.)
Hero's smile falls. Was Kel implying he was a baby? He's not a baby. Physically, maybe. "Simplemente lo disfruto. That's all I'm saying." (I just enjoy it.) He mutters.
Kel glances at his older brother. "You're weird." He says plainly.
Hero frowns, "sorry…" He mumbles.
Kel doesn't reply, he just focuses back on the screen.
Hero bit his lip gently, unable to focus back up on the screen. He felt like crying, like curling up in a ball and sobbing his eyes out. He blinked the tears from his eyes, choking back a sound of distress.
"Boys, come get dinner!" Their mom shouts.
Hero jolts slightly, startled from the sudden shout. Kel stares at him for a moment, a confused look on his face. They both stare at each other.
"¿Qué?" Hero squeaks.
"Mamá dijo que la cena ya está lista. Get up." (Mom said dinner is done.) Kel says.
Hero nods slowly, watching his brother rush to the dining room. Slowly, he stands up and follows him. He sits down in his chair at the table, silently staring down at the grain of the wood.
A plate is set in front of him and he hesitantly looks up at it.
"Leftovers? Again?" Kel complains.
"No whining, mister. It's what you're getting." Mamá scolds. She looks over at Hero, "and you're eating it this time. Got it?"
Hero nods.
"Words, young man."
"Si mamá." He says quietly.
Mamá sits down and everyone begins eating. Except for Hero. He just stared at the plate, hesitant to move.
"Henry. Eat."
"Lo siento mamá." Hero whimpers, shakily lifting his hand and picking up his fork. He takes slow bites of his food.
Kel was looking at him from the side of his eye. He could tell.
Hero steels himself and takes a deep breath. He can't regress in front of his family. They can't know. He didn't know how they would react. They could do anything. They might think he's weird or disgusting. Mamá might throw him out. Papá might yell at him. Kel would laugh and make fun of him.
Hero jolts harshly as a hand is placed on his shoulder. He jerks his head to look at his father with wide, watery eyes. Papá tried to speak to him, but he's silenced by his son. "Lo siento. Comeré." (I'm sorry. I'll eat.)
