Appetizers: BxB, GxB, GxG *Slow*

5. Not What You See

BxB, Enjoy!

"What the hell is this?!" Dad screams at me as I walk into the kitchen. Mom is sitting at the table with a cup of tea, staring at the steaming water. I look at what Dad is holding and feel all the blood drain from my face. In his hand one of my Dance magazine's, an earlier subscription, and what's worse is that my secret is out. Dad says my name harshly and with a gulp I drag my gaze from the magazine to meet his blue eyes.

"Gabe, I asked you a fucking question!" My hands start shaking and I clench them to try and keep myself calm as I glance at my mother for help. But she's still gazing into her coffee cup, only now there is a look of disgust contorting her features. "Gabe! Look at me and answer the fucking question!"

"It's a magazine," I reply with a slight quiver in my voice. My blue eyes meet his and I take a step back at the look of rage on his face. "A dance magazine."

"The next words out of your mouth better not be tellin' me that this... garbage belongs to you." Dad is no longer yelling, but that doesn't help calm me down.

"It does," I whisper softly, watching Dad carefully. The words don't seem to reach him for a few seconds, but when they do he starts tearing the magazine apart. "No!"

I run to him, trying to reach for the magazine, my only hope, but Dad just pushes me away from him and into the wall. All the breath leaves my lungs and I collapse to the floor and watch helplessly. By the time Dad is done all that is left is pieces of paper scattered around the room like confetti. I just stare at the floor, feeling helpless and broken. But Dad isn't finished yet.

"How dare you?! We've gone through this Gabe! I told you that you couldn't dance, you aren't fucking made for it!" His words pierce my soul and all I can do is sit there, listening, while tears fall from my eyes. "You should be in football! Or hockey! Or even thinking of a career in construction! Not this girly shit! You can't! It's not normal!"

"What if I don't want to be normal?" I manage to get out, my words thick with sorrow and anger. Dad laughs humorlessly and shakes his head.

"You're hopeless. Tomorrow I'm finding a boarding school and you'll be going there. Maybe if we surround you with normal guys your age you'll finally see some sense," Dad growls before stomping out of the room. I'm still staring at the torn pieces of magazine laying on the floor, scattered. Just like my hope for ever doing what I want. It's bad to be gay. It's bad to want to do ballet. It's bad to get straight A's. It's bad to not want to fuck girls.

"You should start packing. Your father will want you out as soon as possible," Mom finally says, walking out of the room. Her cup of tea still sitting on the table, no longer steaming hot. Your father will want you out as soon as possible... want you out... out... He hates me now, and to make it even worse he's sending me to an all-boys school... Is it really wrong to not want to play football? Or play team sports at all?

*~~~*~~~*

I drag my suit case behind me as I walk up to the front entrance of the preppy looking school. Dad said it specializes in sports and it is required to participate in at least one. I'm pretty sure I get to choose what I play, well I hope I do anyways. With a heavy sigh I walk into the building and happily relish in the cool air before walking down the hall, looking for the Student Help office. The further I get into the building, the more guys I see walk past.

The school doesn't seem to have a school uniform, which is nice, and they don't seem to discriminate at all. By the time I find the office, I'm starting to feel really nervous. I'm hoping that I won't have roommate because it'd be awkward, for me at least. A young lady is sitting behind the desk in the office I step in front of her, waiting patiently for her look up from her computer screen.