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chap 9: wentworth

Richie

I had to nurse my hangover and try to talk to my dad at the same time, which was hard while I juggled the phone, my water and my pills in my hands.

I had taken advantage of the time Stan had went to work to call my household and make sure things were running smoothly without me.

"And then my executive cut me off." He continued.

"Mhm. Shit! I'm listening." I picked my pill up from the floor. It fell quiet on the other end for a second.

"How're you doing, kid?" I could see his expression in my mind. Mustache, lips pursed as he worried over me.

"Good dad. Things are just... Jiffy." I lied. I was miserable. I wanted to be home with him and my mom and even though I hated to admit it, my sister too.

"Don't lie to me, Rich."

I popped the pill into my mouth and sighed, taking a gulp of water.

"It sucks, dad. Being an adult fuckin sucks. I don't know how to do taxes and i'm new at the arcade so they aren't paying me shit. Stan has to my laundry for me and I feel like i'm the only one struggling right now." I babbled. He stayed silent for a second.

"You got this, kid. You're smart and funny as hell. I bet you could be a rodeo clown if all else fails." He laughed. I laughed weakly.

"This just... really sucks, dad. I'm so confused about everything and... and..." I debated on telling him about my feelings. About my urges. The thought of telling him and risking him never talking to me again killed me a bit.

"And?"

"Dad. Do you remember when all the guys were giving you shit at the office a few summers back about how everyone in town heard a rumor I... was gay?" I asked. He hummed.

"Dad..." I swallowed. Could I even say it? Could I form the words?

"Dad. I like boys." I finally said. It was quiet.

Oh god he hates me. He's gonna disown me. He's gonna admit me.

"I know, son." He finally sighed. My eyes were watering. There was a lump in my throat.

"Do you still love me?" My voice cracked.

"Of course, Rich," He didn't even hesitate, "You're my boy. You'll always be my boy. I don't give a damn who you like. I want want you happy, kid."

"Thanks dad," I sniffled, looking at my watch, Stan should be home any minute, "I gotta go."

"Okay... I love you, son."

"Love you too." and with that I hung the phone back on the hook. I rounded the corner into the kitchen to see Stan there, wide eyed as he leaned against the counter.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

"Stan!" My voice cracked. My head was spinning. I didn't want to know if he heard what I had said. I couldn't bring myself to ask.

Stan smiled softly and walked toward me.

He squeezed my shoulder and walked past me right to the hallway. I stood stunned. Did I want to cry tears of joy? Was I sad? I needed some comfort. Any comfort.

"Stan." I said and spun to face him. He turned to face me with a soft look in his eyes. Before I could help myself I had flung myself into him. He hugged my waist tightly considering our height difference. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you." He mumbled into my shirt. That's all I needed to hear.