Homecoming (Lesbian)

CHAPTER 8

Four months after Faye and I started dating, my life was exactly in the place where I had always wanted it to be. I had an amazing girlfriend, we were in love and happy. My friends didn't know about us, except Scott. Scott pretty much noticed and one day when Faye and I were along he approached us and said "I called it!"

I also hadn't told my parents for obvious reason. I wasn't ready, and since Faye was my best friend, it didn't change much in our relationship when it came to them. We still played Call of Duty in her bedroom and had pajama parties at mine. We watched bad movies and kissed through the most boring parts. Once, while we were kissing, I let my hand fall down onto her ass and she pulled away immediately to stare at me as if she were swallowing a laugh. I apologize and she cracked up.

My life was perfect. I had never been as happy as I was when Faye and I were together. When we were us. I would give anything, anything in the world to have that again.

But on Christmas Eve something started. I was speaking to Faye on the phone while getting ready to go down to have dinner with my family.

"But I hate this shirt." I said with the phone on speaker while I put on the blue shirt my mom got me especially for today.

"I think you look beautiful." Faye replied.

"You haven't even looked at it." I buttoned up the shirt and changed angles in front of the mirror.

"You're my girlfriend, it's my job to think everything you wear makes you look beautiful."

I smiled, "Nicely done, Burton. Plus two points."

"Thank you. I try."

"By the way..." I changed my voice so it would sound deeper and go with the joke, "What are you wearing?"

I put on my jeans while I waited for Faye to answer "A black dress. I wish you could see it. It's all kinda girly but also kinda badass."

"Which means it's kinda you."

"Yeah!"

I heard my mother yell my name from downstairs, telling me dinner would be ready in ten. "Listen, baby, I've got to go, alright?"

"Yeah, me too." While I reached for the phone, I heard Faye say "I love you, Riley."

I smiled. We had said I love you so many times throughout our lives that when we started dating we started saying it without giving it much meaning. But that I love you didn't mean 'I love you, friend'. It meant you're everything to me. I turned off the speaker and put the phone on my ear "I know. I love you, too, Faye."

"We're still up for tomorrow?"

"Pizza? Of course. Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up and went downstairs. My brother and my father were already sitting on the table. My dad didn't really help with anything at home, my brother and I did but when my brother went into the kitchen, my dad would say "Kitchen is for the ladies, Connor. Let them do their job." I don't think he noticed how sexist that is. I sat next to my brother and asked him what he wanted from Santa. He said he was too old to believe in Santa. Excuse me, I believed in the big red man until I was thirteen. Yeah, yeah, don't bully me.

Connor was eight at the time and he was already giving signs of the kind of man he'd become. To the point, direct, no sugar coating stuff.

I saw my mother bring the huge platter with turkey, the beautiful honey glazed ham she had to teach me because it was too good, and the cranberry sauce I made. My dad carved the turkey and game us each a huge piece of ham. We sat and held each other's hands to give thanks. In many ways, my family looked like the classic, happy American family. The daddy, the mommy, the girl and the boy, sitting around the table on Christmas Eve eating turkey and ham while they thanked God for the amazing food and all the blessings in their lives. Of course, no family is like that. We all have some skeletons in our closets. Unfortunately, our skeletons started to poke their heads out that Christmas Eve.