Figuring You Out

Chapter Thirty- Three

"So, hydrogen has one electron in its outer shell so shares it with which group to give it a full outer shell?"

"Come again," I say, placing my head in my hands, even Red groans in frustration and tosses his biro across the table, "I'm never going to learn all of this by my exams," He places a discreet hand on my leg under the table.

"Let's wrap up here today, ok? We'll work on this tomorrow morning," he says, as my massage my temples, he squeezes my leg gently and turn to meet his eyes.

"I'm done with this," I say, passionately.

"Chemistry?" he questions lightly with a smirk on his face.

"No," I say inching closer to him, "Hiding," I take his unsuspecting face in my hands and plant my lips on his in the empty library, "I'm coming out to my family tonight, before Mum leaves for Paris"

"Where did that come from?" he asks quietly.

"I just want to be with you, properly be with you. No more secret glances or subtle hand holding. I want to kiss you and show you off," I say.

"If you're sure,"

"With you, yes,"

"When did you get soft?" he teases, with a playful nudge to my elbow. When I met you. We move outside and when we get to the gate the reality of my promise hits me, Red scans both ways for any stragglers before bringing me into a hug, "You can take your time with this, you don't have to come out because of me,"

"I want to, it's about time," I say, seriously, "I'll text you,"

"Ok," he says, "Olly, you can call me, ok? Whatever you feel,"

"Thank you," I say, my voice not blaring above a whisper, he holds me in his arms despite the height difference with a final squeeze and then releases me.

I walk home, fidgeting and swapping various playlists until a certain slipknot one made some of the racing thoughts drain out. I hesitate at the front door settling my nerves and breathing before fumbling my keys through the lock and entering. I push off my shoes and dump my school bag down by the pile of trainers then move towards the lounge where Dad is stretched across all three sections of the sofa.

"Hey," I say, even that comes out croaked.

"Hey, buddy," Dad replies, glancing up at me for a second before stretching back around to see the film that was blasting out of the telly, with a bowl of popcorn in his hand. I glance and recognise the film to be Fight Club and remember this particular scene drags towards the end of the film, I decide to wait, just another five minutes in blissful silence and comfort. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fumble at it with near shaking hands and see it's Red I love you xxx. Then I decide, no, no more waiting, not until the end of the film, not until whoever was ready, now because I'm ready.

"Can we talk?" I ask.

"If it's about how legendary this film is then yeah," he humours, he meets my eyes and I can tell he knows something is up, "What's up?"

"Let me get Mum," I say, retreating to their bedroom, my pulsing hands sliding up the bannister, but I'm so focused on making my jellying legs move up the stairs that I don't even notice Mum dashing down the stairs with her arms full of washing.

but she meets me halfway there on the stairs, "I need to talk to you about something," I swallow down the last word.

"Alright, let me just- "

"No, now," I blurt, she looks at me sceptically, "please,"

"Ok," she replies simply. I led her downstairs to the living room where Dad has turned off the film and is now flicking through the TV channels, mum squeezes in next to him and steals a handful of his popcorn. Was I about to destroy this? This perfect family? This perfect conventional, normal family?

"I'm gay," I say, not quite meeting their eye, but the lack of bickering falls on me and I can see Mum standing as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. She wraps her arms around me and I can almost sense her tears.

"Olly," she whispers, her voice breaking in the same way it did when I told Emily, I brave a glance at my father who is still sitting on the blue velvet couch, bowl of half eaten popcorn in hand, mouth open slightly.

"If the wind changes, your face will stay like that," I say, as Mum breaks out of the hug, he laughs but even I can tell it's only to humour me.

"Well, come here," he says, standing and opening his arms and slapping me on the back a few times, before holding the back of my neck and its only then I notice the tears running down his face.

"Shit, Dad," I laugh, shaking my head, "Stop crying,"

"I know, I know but your old man gets emotional sometimes alright?" he says, "I'm so proud of you, you know, that right?"

I feel my own face brighten as a few salty tears run down my face. I laugh a little and it's only when he squeezes my neck and I look up at him, "I love you," I say, he pulls me into another hug.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"Emily," I say, and I note the hurt in Mum's eyes and guilt in the way Dad can no longer meet my eye, "Sorry,"

"No, no, you have nothing to apologise for," Mum corrects, resting her and on my cheek, "You told who you felt comfortable telling,"

"I'd better call her," I mumble, more to myself than them.

"It was that day wasn't it? That you told her," Dad says, seriously, I gulp a little but I can't lie to him. Not again.

"Yeah," I admit waiting for his reaction.

"God,"

"Look, I need to speak to Liam, I should be back for dinner though," I say, unhooking my jacket from the coat rail and clicking the door shut to my parents tired exhales. Three down, one more to go; Liam.