Being gay is a curse when the homophobia you grew up with was so bad that you're homophobic yourself. Especially when you're into unavailable guys like your roommate, whose girlfriend is everything you're not (though appearances can be deceiving). S...
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I did not hesitate even a second to tell Kylie, "No."
Come inside? No way in hell. I was not going in there. I might be willing to talk to them later, when my brain wasn't so fried that I could barely think, though I still highly doubted it wouldn't be a complete waste of my time, but not now. I just wanted to stay in Carl's car and let him drive me to his apartment and get in his bed and let myself drift off into a world where things like homophobic families were not a thing. I needed to be somewhere where my parents and my siblings were not. I needed to be somewhere where they didn't exist—just for a moment.
"Come on, they—"
"No," I repeated.
"Nate," Carl said softly, laying a hand on my leg.
I didn't know if he was going to say that we should listen to her and go inside or if he was going to say that I didn't have to; that he'd bring me back anyway, but I didn't wait to hear the rest. I didn't want to hear it in case it was the former. "Let's just go, please."
It was quiet for a moment.
Kylie let out a sigh.
I heard a click and looked over to see Carl turning the key in the ignition.
And then the front door of my house opened again and my mother, of all people, came out and walked up to us. Neither Carl nor Kylie said a word as she walked around the car to get to my side and opened the door. I was too scared to look at her face, but I didn't have the balls not to look up. As if I would ever.
She looked... considerably... not mad? She didn't look happy either, but she didn't look like she was about to beat my ass, at least. "Nate," she sighed.
I swallowed.
"Come."
All I did was look at her.
Clearly, I hesitated too long, because just a moment later, she let go of the car door and said, "Nathan, you know I ain't gon—"
I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car.
She didn't say anything else then. She only walked back around the car, so I closed the door and followed, but then she turned to look at Carl and Kylie and asked if they were coming too. My heart shot into my throat. I was already terrified of going back myself, but Carl? I definitely didn't want him to go in. He and Kylie shared a glance, and then, to my dismay, he pulled his key out of the ignition.
God, why?
I closed my eyes for a second and whispered, "Please, don't let this go wrong."
We walked to the house—all four of us—and the moment I stepped through the door, I felt like I couldn't breathe again. The walls were too close together. The lingering smell of my mother's cooking made me feel nauseated. The sound of someone—probably my father–clearing his throat had my heart skipping a beat. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to fucking be here.
