The New Kid in Class
Truth
Ryan's POV
The living room in my house has never been particularly huge, but today it seems smaller than ever. I wish the walls would just get it over with already and close in on me.
When I get to the living room, my parents are both sitting on our old leather couch, so I take a seat in the La-Z-Boy across from them. It's two against one. The situation couldn't be more awkward if Oprah ran through the room naked. I bite my lip.
"So what's up?" I ask, stupidly. My mom runs a hand through her thin brown hair impatiently. I can tell there are a lot of things she wants to say, but she's too afraid to say them.
"We were worried about you yesterday," my dad says, his voice weaker than normal. "You just sprung that... information... on us and left."
I sigh. At least they're not freaking out... yet. "I'm sorry," I say, my voice almost a whisper.
"Ryan," my mom speaks finally, "You're sure about what you said yesterday? This is the kind of lifestyle you want?"
"Mom... It's not a choice. It's just... part of who I am." The idea that being attracted to people of the same sex is a choice is a common misconception with parents. And a particularly frustrating one at that. "And yes. I'm sure."
She nods slowly, looking close to tears once again. Making your mother cry this much in 24 hours has got to be illegal. If I could wish for anything, I'd want for them to understand and accept me. But not everybody gets what they want.
As if reading my mind, my dad speaks. "You're allowed to live however you want, of course - you're an adult - but while you're still living at home, there have to be some rules..." I roll my eyes. Of course there are rules. What's teenage life without rules?
My dad starts to name things he thinks should and should not happen, but I start to tune him out after he mentions the 'door must be open at all times' rule.
After what feels like forever, he stops. The room is silent again.
"So is that it?" I ask, absentmindedly twiddling (that is one funny word) my thumbs.
He just nods silently. I stand up. The silence is too much in a matter of seconds, and I leave the room.
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"God, it was so freakin' awkward," I say into the phone.
"What'd they say?" Brendon asks.
"Just some crap about me having to leave my bedroom door open at all times when someone's over," I laugh.
"I guess you'll have to come over to my house, then." I can't help but smile at the thought.
The living room in my house has never been particularly huge, but today it seems smaller than ever. I wish the walls would just get it over with already and close in on me.
When I get to the living room, my parents are both sitting on our old leather couch, so I take a seat in the La-Z-Boy across from them. It's two against one. The situation couldn't be more awkward if Oprah ran through the room naked. I bite my lip.
"So what's up?" I ask, stupidly. My mom runs a hand through her thin brown hair impatiently. I can tell there are a lot of things she wants to say, but she's too afraid to say them.
"We were worried about you yesterday," my dad says, his voice weaker than normal. "You just sprung that... information... on us and left."
I sigh. At least they're not freaking out... yet. "I'm sorry," I say, my voice almost a whisper.
"Ryan," my mom speaks finally, "You're sure about what you said yesterday? This is the kind of lifestyle you want?"
"Mom... It's not a choice. It's just... part of who I am." The idea that being attracted to people of the same sex is a choice is a common misconception with parents. And a particularly frustrating one at that. "And yes. I'm sure."
She nods slowly, looking close to tears once again. Making your mother cry this much in 24 hours has got to be illegal. If I could wish for anything, I'd want for them to understand and accept me. But not everybody gets what they want.
As if reading my mind, my dad speaks. "You're allowed to live however you want, of course - you're an adult - but while you're still living at home, there have to be some rules..." I roll my eyes. Of course there are rules. What's teenage life without rules?
My dad starts to name things he thinks should and should not happen, but I start to tune him out after he mentions the 'door must be open at all times' rule.
After what feels like forever, he stops. The room is silent again.
"So is that it?" I ask, absentmindedly twiddling (that is one funny word) my thumbs.
He just nods silently. I stand up. The silence is too much in a matter of seconds, and I leave the room.
--------------------------------------
"God, it was so freakin' awkward," I say into the phone.
"What'd they say?" Brendon asks.
"Just some crap about me having to leave my bedroom door open at all times when someone's over," I laugh.
"I guess you'll have to come over to my house, then." I can't help but smile at the thought.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever ):But you can blame my internet. Because it stopped working for a few days ):
But it's fixed now. So yay. x]
You can also blame Twilight for distracting me. I downloaded the script and now I must read it all.. xD
P.S. Sorry if I made you picture Oprah naked.. It's probably not a pretty sight.