teaser

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Answers. That's what people seek when they go to therapy. Desperate people take drastic measures when it comes to things like this- especially when your parents are crazy religious people.

"He's gay." My dad says, looking at the old geezer in the fancy suit across the desk. My foot taps anxiously on the ugly carpeted floor. It looked like it was designed to look like sewer water.

The thought alone makes me queasy. Sewers with creepy little creatures scurrying in that nasty murky water- I clear the thought from my head as my dad grabs my shoulder.

"We just think he's confused. Can you help him?"

I know my dad loves me. He always has. He's strict but he always had my best interest in mind. I think accepting that I am in fact gay is harder for him than it was for me.

The therapist blinks slowly, his sunken eyes with his wrinkles making him look dead. He opens his mouth, letting out a nasty sticky noise.

"Do you need water?" I ask as he continues to make that god awful noise with his mouth. He seemed speechless or something.

"I think if he's gay, you should support him as you always have. If he's confused, he'll see that on his own, but he wouldn't have told you if he wasn't fairly certain that he was."

Bless that old man. Although that sentence took 5 minutes for him to spit out- in fact I think most of what came out of his mouth was spit.

My dad on the way out of the therapists office set a hand on my shoulder. His touch was lighter than usual, his expression softer as well.

"I support you, Sal." He says, smiling awkwardly. "I accept you."

My mom stood a bit behind us, her long dark hair snapping in the wind.

I hug my dad. I don't wanna admit it but I cry too. It feels like forever that I do it... then I just pull away and just pretend that I'm fine.

- - - - - -

I am usually left to sit alone at school which eases my anxiety. Talking isn't my forte, unless sweating and stuttering is part of the conversational process.

I usually close my eyes and put my ear buds in and fit a small power nap in between classes without eating- I can't stomach the food at this god forsaken school.

I yell when suddenly I am grabbed and shook, my eyes popping open as a wide eyed boy stares straight into my eyes.

My ear buds falling out in the process of trying to get away, I can hear the group of teens laughing to the point of tears.

I had fallen to the floor, pretty much demolishing my tail bone. I wanted to cry.

The big eyed teen helps me back up off the floor as I whimper with the adrenaline that still courses through each vein.

"What the hell!" I yell. The boys all start to laugh again.

"Hey, chump! Don't mind if we sit here!" A shorter boy says, a red bandana wrapped around his head. He had a mullet. He said it more of a command then anything.

"He's shaking." A boy points out, which was true. I couldn't help but notice he looked like a ferret. His round nose and wide eyes.

"I'm James, that's Joe, and he's Brian."

Brian wears a shirt that has a cat riding on a taco on it- I can't take his handshake seriously. "Call me Q."

Also, I hate cats.

I expected for the teens to leave me alone the next day. But then, they proceeded to sit at my table and play pranks on me.

I felt like I was being bullied if anything. At first it was just lunch room shenanigans, and then it was everywhere else.

Joe was the worst. His pranks were always humiliating.

Then they had to get me in detention. That was the last straw.

It had been a food fight. I hadn't even participated at all and those 3 boys said I started it.

The room was silent as I headed in for detention, the rest of the school stays after to have fun, but alas, I am here instead of watching my sister play her violin.

As I sat, the other three barging through the door a couple minutes late, I felt my body flood with anger.

I'm going to snap if they dare talk to me. It was Q who made me snap. "Hey, Sal!" Was all he had to say.

I stood up, heat rushing to my cheeks and the three fell silent. "What is wrong with you!?" I yelled, glad that the teacher was more irresponsible than them three.

"You come in here like we're buddies or something? Well you guys got me in trouble and you've given me hell all week!" I exclaim.

Q and the others look at each other. Joe is the one to speak up. "Come on, Sal. We're just having fun-"

"At my expense!" I snap. I sit down and hide my face in my hands as the other three fall silent.

"Look, you looked all lonely in the lunch room. We didn't know you were boring like everyone else in this school. Otherwise we would've left you alone." James says.

I remove my hands from my face.

Q frowns. "Detention isn't that bad, I go to detention every day." He huffs.

"Alright!" The teacher upon arrival says. She walks like the president of the United States. I cower in my seat at the look of her.

"We're scraping gum off the bleachers, boys. If this doesn't get through to you, I don't know what will."

I just about cried just then. No fucking way.

Also, I hate germs.