To Be Like Father

Shock

**•**Nick's POV**•**

"Doo doo doo dun dun dun hmmmm....." I sang a tune I had in my head as I experimented with my guitar on a park bench on the so-called Weston Community Park (it was just a small, dilapidated playground with two park benches and old, cracked cement). I was working on a song; I had the tune in my head, but the words hadn't quite yet arrived. It was mid-August now. After Father dragged me out to meet the neighbors I just went back to holing up. Dad even took me to work with him one day to see if I would make any friends in the city where I was most comfortable. It didn't work. So, my parents stopped trying... for now. The only person I had met who was close to my age was Alison and I didn't have any way to contact her unless I knocked on her door again; no phone number or Instagram or nothing. Anyway, this day at the park started an ongoing issue that I had never faced before in my life. Here's how it began.

I was fiddling with my guitar in the early evening when I knew a lot of people were eating dinner and not going to the park. I preferred to be alone (if you haven't already noticed) here.

As I was playing I heard the scrape-roll of wheels on cement. I stopped to see the passerby. It actually turned out to be two passersby. Two teenage boys, probably my age, came rolling by on skateboards. One was really tall, wore black athletic shorts, a grey cutoff shirt, and black hi-tops. He had short, bristly hair that looked to be dyed black since his eyebrows contrasted as a light blonde. The other boy was maybe five inches shorter with shaggy blonde hair that swept across his eyes. A black beanie clung to the back of his head. He wore jean shorts that frayed at the edges, a blue Warriors Golf T-shirt, and old sneakers.

We stared each other down as they passed by. I didn't mean to be rude; I mean I've been told by my parents ever since I was young not to stare at strangers, but the way they studied my every move made it nearly impossible not to study them back.

They passed me and I let out a relieved sigh. Slowly I brought my guitar back into my hands, but not for long.

The sound of the skateboards had grown faint and then suddenly grown louder again. I glanced up to see the two boys heading back the other way. Why were they turning around?

I assumed they would just roll on by, but they made screeching halts right in front of me. They didn't say a word.

I took my left hand gradually off the fret board. "Hiii......" I said slowly. "Do you need anything?"

The tall guy looked to the short guy and the short guy shrugged and pretended to be engrossed with the threads dangling from his shorts. The tall guy turned back to me and with a scowl on his broad lips spoke, "Who's the guy who lives with you? And what's your name?"

I frowned. "Have we met?" I asked.

The guy crossed his arms in an attempt to look cool and casual. "No. Answer the questions, kid."

I laughed nervously. "I live with my parents." I answered matter of factly. "My name is Nick."

The tall one cocked an eyebrow and sneered. "Well, what's your last name?" he nudged his friend who then laughed a little and muttered something incomprehensible. "Is that your uncle?" He added.

"I have two last names, Hummel-Anderson." I was confused. I stammered. "And my uncle lives in California. I only have one. Why... why do you need to know?"

"Is he visiting?" The guy asked, ignoring my question. Then as he asked this I heard him add to his friend, "This is the new music teacher's son."

I shook my head slowly. "No. He's never been to our house before. Why do you even need to know this?" I asked again, then slowly caught on to who he was referring to. "Do you mean my dads?" I asked.

His jaw dropped open and ever so slowly closed. He turned to his companion and they exchanged what looked to be expressions of shock or realization. The guy turned back to me and said, "Can you say that again?"

"Say what again?"

The guy motioned with his hand. "The last thing you said."

"I asked if you thought one of my dads was my uncle." I paraphrased.

The two boy's eyes widened for what seemed like a minute too long before the second one finally said something audible, "So they're..... g-g.... gay?" he stuttered.

I laughed. "Well..... yeah. Isn't it obvious?"

The boys looked at one another again. The taller one shook his head. "Wow." he sighed then turned back to me and squinted his eyes, "So what country did you come from?"

Okay, now I was really confused. So they were shocked about my dads.... so be it, but now they want to know what country I was born in? "America." I stated.

The short one spoke again, though his hands shook slightly. "You adopted?"

"No!" I almost shouted. "I'm biologically my father's child. My dads are friends with my biolo-"

The tall one put up a hand. "Stop. We don't need you explaining, kid. This is just freakin' awkward." He flipped his board up and leaned it against his leg. "What brings you to this part of the universe, kid?"

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench, "I...ummm... I.... my dads.... they got jobs here."

The tall one laughed to himself, "Yeah, your dad...well-" he coughed intentionally. "well one of your dads is the new singing teacher."

"Choir director and glee club sponsor." I corrected him. "And yes that's his job."

The guy pointed to my guitar, "And what's that?"

I cocked a very confused eyebrow. "A... guitar. Duh."

"I know that." the guy said with a smirk. "Why do you play? No one plays a darn thing here."

I gripped my musical soulmate in defense. "Yes I do play and no matter what you do or don't do here in this lame town-" I started getting worked up."- I don't care! Yes I play guitar. Yes I have two dads. Lay off me alright! I don't even know you!" I clenched a fist and felt sweat accumulate in the creases of my palms.

The tall one, who had done most of the talking, backed up with his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright. Alright, II'll lay off ya." He hopped back on his board and as he pushed off he called, "C'mon, Josh! We out."

The smaller one, who now had a name, threw up his hands and followed his buddy. They looked back once before flying off into the night.

I collapsed on the bench with a huge heave of my chest. A cool summer wind blew my dark curls in my face and I had to hold my guitar one handed so that I could reach up and tuck a handful of hair behind my ears.

In NYC sure there were gay-haters. Dad was bashed a year before he and Father got married in a dark alley, left with the person he had stood up for, bleeding and bruised. They showed me pictures of after the incident and they make me cringe to this day. How could someone be so cruel? We are born the way we are born and nothing can truly change that.

I personally have never witnessed gay bashing or anything of the likes. At school in New York I wasn't the only one with gay parents and there were even a few openly gay students in my grade. We were accustomed to it and we all accepted that way of life.

The way that Tall Guy and sidekick, Josh, reacted to me tonight left me feeling uncomfortable. This awkwardness is so new to me and I don't know weather to feel confused, amused, angry, or what? Maybe all those emotions.

Anyway, I called it a night after that and made my way back home. Little did I know that my conversation with those boys wouldn't be the last.