After Hours (boyxboy) | ✓

Chapter Sixteen

*TW* Homophobic slurs are used in this chapter! Beware.

Fathers taking their sons fishing is the most cliche thing in the world. I didn’t even know that many guys that had been fishing with their dad. But my dad decided to take me fishing today. Why? I didn’t know. Maybe to bond? Everyone could see the distance growing between me and my dad.

It was nine in the morning and I had unfortunately woken up at eight on my day off. I tugged on my leather boots, stopping to fix my sock, which had fallen down my ankle. My khaki shorts stopped at my knees and I had a light blue shirt tucked into them. My dad had told me to bring a hat with me — it was supposed to be sunny. But every hat I tried made my hair stick out. It was impossible for me to look good in a hat. So I took sunglasses instead, and applied extra sunscreen.

When I got downstairs, my dad’s car was already in the driveway. The tires were stained with mud from the other day’s storm. He shuffled up the driveway, glancing at the windows to get a glimpse of my mom. She was about to leave for work. I strolled to the kitchen to make a sandwich. We’d probably be at the stupid docks all day. 

“Good morning,” Mom said as I opened the fridge. She sipped coffee from her Star Trek mug. I nodded and grabbed some cold cuts. Just as I started to open the bread, we heard a knock on the door. My mom rushed to answer it as I continued my sandwich.

I heard my dad’s voice after the door squeaked open.“Hi, Kerry. Is Emmett up yet?”

“Yes, he’s making a sandwich.”

I heard their footsteps approach as they chatted about the day ahead. We were going to the beach to fish. I was hoping we would go to a lake or something, but the beach was fine too. Either way, it’d be boring and annoying.

“Hey! Morning, kiddo,” Dad said. I gave him a reluctant hug and finished my sandwich off with some mustard. A good sandwich meant nothing without mustard. My parents walked around the kitchen, talking about current events and weather. Their conversation was so awkward and stiff. I feared that Brendon and I would end up like them too.

I stuffed my sandwich into a plastic bag, then into my string bag. My dad watched eagerly. I wasn’t in the mood to go fishing anymore. Not that I ever was. I guessed it could serve as a good distraction though. I shouldn’t have been thinking about marriage anyways. That was weird.

“Ready to go?” Dad asked over my shoulder.

“Sure.”

I kissed my mom goodbye, and followed my dad outside to the car. The old thing looked to be in rough shape. It always was anyways. I hopped into the passenger’s seat and my dad shuffled into the driver’s. One CD case sat on the seat between us. It was some random rock band. 

“Alrighty. Excited to go fishing with your old man?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He chuckled. “Didn’t think so.” I felt bad. But he said it first. I was going to at least pretend to have fun. But if he knew I wasn’t, I didn’t see the point.

***

After a nearly-silent car ride there, we finally arrived at the beach. It was a sunny day. Colorful umbrellas lined the shore. Women read books while men took little kids out to the water. My dad hauled two rods and a bait box out of the trunk. He handed one fishing rod to me, and took one for himself. We walked across the parking lot, not saying much.

The sand was dark and rocky at this beach. I prefered the smoother ones, but they were further away. So we crossed the asphalt field and stepped up to the greenish wooden pier. The boards creaked under my feet. Docks like these always made me nervous. According to my dad, the green color was caused by an old chemical used for preservation — or something. And that chemical is no longer used, meaning that these docks were probably pretty old.