Before The Sunrise

love

"I don't know what you're talking about," I insist. "I didn't say anything to anyone."

I'm slumped in the chair in my dad's office, my back and ribs throbbing. 

"Well, then, why did I get a call from one of my friends down at the police station saying that someone at your school had reported me for child abuse?"

Fuck. It was probably Bradford. Jesus fucking Christ.

"I-I don't know," I say. I'm rubbing my eyes, trying to wake myself up enough to focus on the conversation.

"I know," he sneers. "You told your stupid coach, didn't you? Why, you think I'm abusive? Did he teach you that? You think that now that you're off to college, you don't need me anymore, so you tell your new daddy that I abuse you? I fucking made you. You would have nothing if I weren't guiding you. And you know I could take it all away in an instant."

"Dad, I didn't say anything. Please believe me." God, I'm never going to talk to Bradford ever again.

"You're fucking lucky that Officer Goodwin swept all this under the rug for you. The last thing we need is the fucking CPS breathing down my neck."

Right. No one would have believed me anyway.

"Does that disappoint you? Do you know what would happen if you got taken away from me? You'd be sent to live in some foster home with parents who are way fucking worse than me. You think I'm abusive? Or do you want to go live with your new father?"

"Dad, I didn't do anything! I swear!"

He paces behind his desk. When I dare to look at his face, he looks deranged.

"Stop begging, you little shit. I know what you did. Don't try to lie to me. You know, it's too late to switch schools without it looking suspicious. But I've always hated your stupid Coach Bradford. You know, I could call the authorities, too. Tell them how much time you spent with your hand down the football coach's pants. Tell them he made you do it."

My stomach turns. "That's disgusting."

"No!" he screams. "You know what's fucking disgusting? The fact that I have given you everything, and you throw it all away so you can go play daddy with your fucking coach! You're lucky I don't ruin his life. You're lucky I don't ruin yours!"

"Dad, stop. I love you. I didn't say anything, he must have guessed—"

"Why? Did he see something when you were ass-up naked under him?"

"You left bruises all over my fucking face!" I scream back at him, shoving down my fear.

"Did I? Or did he do it?"

"What? Dad, you're not making any sense, I—"

"WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THAT YOU'RE A GODDAMN FAGGOT?!" he explodes, his fist rattling the desk.

Silence.

"I—Dad, I—Who told you that?" I whisper.

"Goodwin did. He said that someone notified DSS that my gay son was unsafe in my care because I was abusive and homophobic."

How did Bradford know that?

Fuck.

They can really just out me to my dad like that?

"Dad, I don't know who said that, but—"

"Don't fucking lie to me. I've known you were a fucking poof for years. But clearly nothing I said could make you see reason."