Billy Carter

Chapter 21: Give Me Novacaine

I couldn't sleep that night, all I could do was stare at the ceiling trying process what I'd just learned and what I should do next. Confront Mum and Harry? Ask Dad? Wait and see what happened? It made sense now that I have dyslexia - it can be hereditary, and Harry had told me his older brother has it too, so-
I have an uncle. A real uncle. I wonder if I have any cousins? Oh my God I'm Greek too. Too bad I didn't get my father's natural tan.
William Roberts. It sounded so weird. Billy Roberts. Billy Bob. Bill Roberts. Will Roberts. W B Roberts. Didn't sound as right as Carter though. I prefer Carter. William Carter-Roberts. Billy Carter-Roberts. William Leary-Carter-Roberts. That's way too much - even without my middle name.
I gave in to my desperate need to talk to someone about it and rang Ollie.
"Are you ok?" he asked sleepily when he eventually answered the phone. "It's three in the morning."
"I know, I'm sorry, but you'll never believe what's happened."
"What's happened?"
"I know who my father is."
"... You what?! How? Who is it?" Ollie asked, sounding far more alert now.
"My father is Mr. Roberts."
"What? No way!"
"He is, I overheard Mum talking to him on the phone today! They were saying how they'd been keeping our real relationship a secret and they were thinking about telling me the truth and everything!"
"Well... There's no way he can be your father. My dad would know if he was and-"
"But why would he tell you if he did?" I pointed out.
"Good point. Ok, well... Are you sure? I mean your father's supposed to be rich, and teaching is the wrong occupation for that."
"Yes, I'm certain! I mean maybe he's one of those secret millionaires! And we've got a lot in common anyroad, it's why we get along so well. And we're both good at music and stuff, and his older brother is dyslexic and it can be hereditary, so I guess now we know why I'm dyslexic."
"I guess. Are you sure you haven't misunderstood? I don't mean to rain on your parade or anything, it's just... This is big, Billy. Really big. And you don't want to jump to the wrong conclusion. Are you ok? How do you feel about it?"
"I... I don't know. I think I'm in shock or something. I mean I'm happy that Harry's my real father, because we get along and we're already friends and I do look up to him kinda like a father figure. But why would they lie to me about it? Why would they keep it a secret for so long?"
"I don't know. Maybe you should speak to your mum, or your dad even - step-dad, I mean."
"Maybe... I don't know."
"Well you don't have to do anything if you don't want to, and you can take your time to think about it and wrap your head around it all."
"Yeah. Maybe that's a good idea."
We were both quiet for a little bit while I was thinking.
"Bill?"
"Yeah?"
"It's all going to be ok in the end."
"Yeah, I know. You've got my back."
"Always. I love you."
"I love you too."
"I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, tomorrow. Get your beauty sleep."
"You too. Try not to stay up all night obsessing over this new information."
"I'll try."
"Good. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." We hung up and I sighed, feeling a chunk of weight lifted off my chest.
It's all going to be fine. Ollie said so.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

#

The next day Mum and Dad both went out grocery shopping and Ollie came over - as planned - and we holed up in my room talking about my discovery.
"Did you speak to either of your parent's about it?" Ollie asked, sitting cross-legged on my bed.
"Yeah, I spoke to Dad this morning. He promised me that Harry isn't my father, but he seemed a bit confused about what Harry and Mum had been talking about too. Anyroad, at least I don't have to worry about it being awkward at school tomorrow," I told Ollie. "I don't even know what I'd say."
"'Hi, dad!'" Ollie said with a laugh, and I laughed too. "Well, that's one thing. You didn't tell anyone else about your theory though, did you?"
"No one. Just you." He gave me a small smile.
"I'm glad you trust me so much, and that you know you can come to me about anything."
"I'm glad you're good at keeping secrets and giving helpful advice," I told him. "Fucking Hell, sometimes I forget how messed up my life is."
"Well, not messed up, just... complicated."
I sighed and leaned back on my bed, lifting my feet up to sit them on Ollie's lap while I laid my head on my pillow.
"Your feet smell."
"Sorry. But it's actually just the socks, I've worn them the last two days."
"That's disgusting," Ollie told me, scrunching up his nose and peeling the dirty socks off my feet. "Oh ew! They're moist!" He tossed them into my washing basket with a disgusted look on his face while I laughed. I wiggled my toes at him and he started to tickle my feet - until I almost kicked him in the face by accident.
"Shit, sorry."
"It's ok, kinda my fault. Want to put a movie on and not watch it?"
"Sure. What do you want to not watch?"
"Anything."
I put Star Wars Episode IV on and we started to snog before we both got distracted by our favourite scenes. After we finished the movie we put the prequels on and fooled around through them instead.
"I was thinking-"
"Stop thinking and speaking and just keep kissing me, alright?" Ollie teased.
"Fine then, I won't tell you about how I was thinking I might come out to Dad," I retorted. Ollie stopped kissing me and pulled away suddenly to look at me properly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, looking at me with surprise.
"It doesn't matter, you just want to snog."
"No, seriously. You're going to come out to your dad? You're gonna tell him about us?"
"Well... I'm still not one-hundred percent sure," I told him, remembering Dad's anger over running out of beer yesterday. "But I figure if he kicks me out then at least I have some money saved up to rent a hotel room or something."
"Good point. You know you could probably move in with me, or Tony. Neither of our parents' would mind taking you in."
"I know. Maybe I should just tell him. Rip the band-aid off and all that."
"I think you should."
"I know you think I should."
"I'll bake you a coming out cake. Pink, purple and blue, just like the bisexual flag."
"We have a flag?"
"Yeah. Google it later."
"Ok. Make it a chocolate cake though."
"Done."
"Great."
"You need to come out first."
"Oh, yeah. I don't know, I'm still nervous. But I am warming up to it. I'm more likely to tell him now than I was a couple months ago. Maybe next Easter."
"Whatever you decide I love you and I'll support you." Ollie said, kissing my forehead.
"Thanks Ol. Alright, we can resume the kissing now."
"I like the sound of that-"
"William!" I heard Dad yell angrily from downstairs. Damn near gave me a heart attack. Ollie frowned and I scurried out from under him.
"Yeah?" I called loudly back. I could hear him marching up the stairs now, as me and Ollie both hurried to straighten our shirts and make sure our trousers and belts were done up properly before he barged into my room.
"What the fuck do you call this?" Dad asked, storming up to me and shoving a half-empty bottle of whiskey in my face. His eyes were red and his face was flushed from alcohol.
"Uh, whisky?" I asked timidly.
"Don't get smart with me, boy!" Dad snapped. "Stop stealing my fucking alcohol! It was at least three-quarters full not two days ago!"
"I didn't steal any, I swear!"
"Steve, leave Billy alone!" Mum shouted from downstairs. "It was me for fuck's sake! Get your arse down here now!"
Dad shot me one final annoyed glare before he turned and left, slamming my bedroom door shut behind him.
"For fuck's sake, are you eight?" Mum asked him from downstairs.
I turned to Ollie, who was sitting on my bed still, trying to blend into his surroundings. He'd managed to, as far as Dad was concerned. "Sorry about that," I muttered grumpily, embarrassed at Dad's outburst.
"No, don't be," Ollie said. "That was... intense."
"Nah, that was nothing," I shrugged casually and sat down with him.
"That was nothing?" Ollie asked with a concerned frown. Uh oh. "My dad only yelled at me like that once, and that was because I'd accidentally downloaded a virus that ruined his work computer when I was twelve. He didn't swear at me though."
"Yeah well, Dad just gets a temper when he's drinking. I mean it's nothing to worry about, though. Just sometimes unpleasant. Mum reins him back in."
"I've just never seen that side of him before. Now I understand why you're so hesitant to tell him about us."
"Well, I just need to find the right time. It'll be fine." I gave him a reassuring smile. In the pleasant silence between us was a not-so-pleasant argument between my parents. They were yelling at each other again. They'd been doing a lot of it lately - pretty much since Dad picked up the bottle again.
"Well how's I supposed to know it wasn't him!" Dad yelled. "He's stolen my drinks before!"
"You could ask me first!" Mum shouted back. "He's a good kid, he hasn't done anything wrong in a long time! Stop breathing down his neck and blaming him for everything before you even have any proof!"
"Stop defending that kid like he's never done anything wrong! He steals, he cheats, he lies, he sneaks out, he goes behind our backs and spends all his time with that bender-"
"Oh for fuck's sake Steven, shut up! You're drunk!" Mum snapped.
"I'm not drunk, because that bastard's been stealing my fucking drinks!"
"He hasn't! I told you, I had a couple of drinks from your fucking whiskey! And you know what? Now no one's going to have any!"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Dad roared, and suddenly I heard glass breaking - lots of it. Ollie and I jumped up and sprinted downstairs to see what was going on - I was fearing the worst - but when we got to the kitchen we saw that Mum was the one smashing glass. In fact, she'd grabbed Dad's entire liquor collection and thrown it to the tiled floor, breaking all the bottles. Dad was staring at her with a horrified expression, mouth agape, and while he was in shock she snatched the whiskey bottle out of his hand, ripped the cap off, and tipped it upside-down in the sink. Glass and liqour covered the kitchen floor and stunk up the room. Dad looked around like he was lost and Mum shook the last few drops of whiskey into the sink.
"Get your shit together or I'll get my shit together and leave you!" Mum growled at him. "You're turning into a drunken bitter old man and I won't hang around to see you hurt me or my son!"
"I'm not my father!" Dad yelled at her, balling his hands into fists.
"Then stop acting like him!" Mum snapped.
"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about so just shut up!" Dad was so angry and getting so loud I started to think he might snap and hit her. He didn't though, he stormed out the front door instead, slipping a little on all the liquor. I hurried after him while Mum kicked a bottle in frustration.
"Dad! Wait!" I grabbed his arm as he started to climb into his car.
"What the fuck do you want?" he growled at me.
"Don't drive, you'll get yourself killed!" I told him.
"Like you or that bitch give a fuck." He glared at the house.
"Of course we do, Dad! Come on, me and Ollie are gonna watch Star Wars."
"Fuck off!" he snapped. "I'm going to the pub. Go help your mother clean up the kitchen."
"Dad-"
"Stop calling me that!" he shouted in my face, making me flinch. "I'm not your fucking father!" He shoved me back so I fell over and slammed the car door. He started the engine and tore out of the driveway dangerously quick. Mum stormed outside and threw the empty bottle of whiskey at Dad's car, just missing it as Dad took off up the street.
"Asshole!" Mum screamed after him, absolutely fuming - I was surprised she wasn't foaming at the mouth - then she stormed back inside. I combed my hand through my hair, getting anxious over Dad's safety, his drinking, his anger and my parent's increasingly fragile marriage. I heard a cough and looked over to see Mr. Turner standing by his front door smoking a cigarette.
"Are you alright, Bill?" He asked me.
"I'm fine. He's just... he's got a lot on his plate."
"That's all?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm here for you. If you ever need anyone. If you need to feel... safe."
My heart dropped and I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thank you, but I'm fine. We're fine."
"Good. Have a good night."
"You too." I turned around and went back inside too, focusing on my breathing to keep my anxiety in check. The medication and therapy was finally paying off - I still got anxious, but I could control it (most of the time). Dad's words had really stung me though, and what Mr. Turner had said was making me feel a bit... uneasy.
Inside, Mum and Ollie were cleaning up the glass.
"Thank you Ollie, I'm so sorry you had to see and hear all of that sweetheart," Mum was telling him, sniffling and wiping a tear from her eye.
"It's alright, every couple have their bad days," Ollie said casually, trying not to make a big deal about it. Mum looked up at me as I came over to help them clean.
"Did he say where he was going?" she asked bitterly.
"Yeah. He said he was going to the pub," I told her. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Of course he is," she muttered.
"I tried to stop him-"
"It's ok Billy, it's not your fault. You boys don't need to help; I made the mess and I'll clean it up."
"It's ok, we don't mind," Ollie told her with a friendly smile. Mum grimaced back at him.
"You're a good kid Ollie - you too Bill - but really I just want some time to myself. Go upstairs and relax," she told us.
"Ok then. Call if you need anything," I told her with an encouraging smile. Mum gave me a kiss on the cheek and me and Ollie went back upstairs to my bedroom.
"Are you alright?" Ollie asked me once we were in my room and he'd closed the door behind us.
"Well, I guess I'm a little shaken up or whatever - I'm just worried about Mum, mostly, and Dad of course. He really shouldn't be driving," I sighed.
"No, but I'm sure he'll be fine," Ollie said, giving me a hug, then a kiss. Then another kiss.
"You wanna pick up where we left off then?" I asked with a small laugh. He blushed slightly and looked at me sheepishly.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive. We can watch the prequels-"
"Fuck no."