Where Do I Go (boyxboy)

Angel Aguilar Ivy

Hi, my name is Angel Aguilar Ivy. I'm from Crandleville, Texas. It's a farely large town, we have everything here. I'm 16 years old. I was born on April 2, 1997. I'm mixed with three different races; hispanic, black and caucassion.

My hispanic and black mother, Calia Aguilar, married my father Ryan Ivy about 5 years before I was born. He found out that my mom was pregnant and married her right away. He said he would always be there for her through any and everything. I was told my father was so nice back than.

After my parents had their first child, Drake, they had another one. My older sister, Nevaeh. Her name was especially created because it's heaven spelled backwards. I so envied her name, but I like mine better. After the two year age difference between them, I came, nine months after Neveah. Me, little Angel. Then, the baby of the family, little Esme. She was such a rebel. She and I were the closest to each other than the whole family, but I still didn't tell her my secret.

My father told me when I was little that there was a story behind my name. He said he dreamt of me watching over him, big white angel wings spreading from my back. "My little protector from evil," he said. "My Angel."

My father and I weren't that close, but we were close enough. We had different beliefs in certain things. Of course, he didn't know my beliefs. No one but Brock, my boyfriend did.

My father was a very religious man, and was extremely strict on the "no gays" thing. He was even in some anti-gay groups. You know, the ones that go on random streets having those fucked up protest that always ends up with cops or "straight vs gay" wars.

My father took my family and I to one of the protests. I felt so out of place. Here I am, walking around with a group of people I don't know, judging the thing I love. Reading the signs the people had made me feel even worse. "No gays." "Gods against gays." " Gays go to hell," each sign I read felt like I was being punched in the stomach by an iron fist.

That certain protest ended when a group of gay guys (and girls) started marching through the protest group. I guess on purpose because of their attire. One guy came through with a really tight pair of skinny jeans and a tye die t-shirt, with a pair of feminine shades on his heads. He even had another guy, his boyfriend I guess to hold his hand as they walked. The fairly large group of gays stood strong as they walked through the protest. Various harsh names being thrown at them all. "Turn back around boy. we don't want your diseases." "Hold your children, before they grab them," another person yelled. I felt so bad. I wanted to walk with them and punch the guys who said these harsh things to them. How could anyone be so evil? They were no different than anyone else. What, just because a guy loves another guy they're suddenly outcasted, disgusted, thrown away, hurt.

I seen how my father acted when he was around a gay person. He looked as if he wanted to kill. It's like he's a bull and anything gay oriented is the color red.

I really couldn't stand my dad. Actually none of his children did, especially Esme. She hated our father for his beliefs and she was not afraid to speak her mind either.

"Father, your beliefs are Ridiculed," she once said. " The times are changing and you're still holding yourself back, throwing your time into something that's still thriving no matter what."

My father was in shock of her words. Even more angry as he realized that his own daughter was chastising him. He ended their little debate with, "Esme, do not speak of this conversation anymore. You are grounded for a week." Esme cursed him under her breath and only added fuel to her flame. "Two weeks," he said. She didn't really care of his punishment. She actually did punishable things on purpose to piss father off. I so envied my sister. Why couldn't I be as strong as her?

That happened four days ago. So Esme was still stuck in her room. Stripped of her phone, tv, Internet and video games. Atleast that's what father and mother thought. I would give Esme my phone, let her watch my tv when our parents weren't around, she used my Internet, and played my video games. That's just how close she and I are. She does the same thing for me when I get in trouble.

I figured somebody else besides myself and Brock should know about us, just in case I need to sneak out of the house again and need a cover up. My mind did no wondering as Esme came right up.

I walked to my room where I told her to go to watch tv while mother and father were out. She jumped as if expecting father to come in and catch her.

"Relax," I said. "It's just me. Can I talk to you for a sec."

Her face held a little worry as if expecting bad news.

"Yea, sure big bro." she said uneasily.

I didn't know how to tell her. How would she react? I know she stands up for gay people to our father but what if she only did that to anger him?

"Esme, what I have to tell you is a big secret that only Brock and I know. I want to tell you but I don't know how you'll react. It's about me and Brock's friendship."

Esme's grew huge, her cutely plucked eyebrows rising up.

"Esme, I'm -"

"Gay," she sqealed cutting me off.

"Yes that'" I replied.

"Oh my gosh," she practically screamed, and wrapping her arms around me, sqeezing very tigh. "I have so many questions! When did this happen? How long has it been happening. What's you and Brock's status? Are you two in love? Jeezum Crowe Angel! I'm so proud of you?"

She was a little too excited for me. What is going on in her head? But she was my sister and she loved me dearly. I was her favorite person in the whole world. Atleast that's what she told me. I answered all of her questions to the best of my abilities. They were simple questions so I gave simple answers. Then Esme looked at me. Her face went from joy and happiness to Sad and sorrow.

"What's wrong Esme?"

With that look still on her face she looked up at me with her big hazel eyes and said, "mother and father."

"You can't tell them," I said.

"Come on Angel. This is our one chance to prove that dad's life isn't what he wants it to be. Our chance to show him how Sophomoric his bullshit is. Come on you have to tell them. You are our only chance Rabbit," she said

I hate to admit it but she was right. My father needed to know his children aren't perfect saints like he claims. He needs to know that his little angel wasn't so angelic. He needed to know.

"Okay," I told Esme. "I"ll tell mom when they come back, and I'll tell dad in another way. A special way."

Esme hugged me again and ran to her room as she heard the car doors slam. Mother and father were back. Damn i wasn't expecting them so early. I needed time to think about how I will tell my mother, then my father.