Sample Disc

“You wanna’ go out tonight?” Ryan asks after I’ve been home from school for a few hours. It’s nearing 5:30, and I feel like I‘m still at school.

“I’ve got homework.” I sigh, doodling something in the margins of my notebook.

“You can do it later. We haven’t done anything in like, a week.”

“I don’t want to fail.” I say, voice bored, sounding entirely uninterested in doing my homework.

“You wont fail if you don’t do your homework just this once.” He says, dropping his head to my shoulder as the phone starts to ring.

“Quit being a bad influence on me and answer the fucking phone.” I smile, giving him a gentle shove.

“Fine,” He smiles into my neck, “But I expect you to be ready to drink, or fuck, or do something just as inappropriate when I get back.”

“Fuck you, you big baby.” I grin at my paper as he gets off of the couch to answer the phone.

Lately, it’s been all about school and not failing, and the general aspiration of graduating, rather than, y’know, being all about Ryan.

“Bren,” He says, extending his arm to hand me the phone.

“What now, dick face?” I sigh, scribbling down the answer to one of the questions.

“It’s uh, your mom.” He says awkwardly. I look up at him, brow furrowed, as I take the phone.

“Hello?” I say, stomach flipping. I’ve only spoken with my parents a few times since I got kicked out. Which was over six months ago. And the pattern has been when I talk to them, it ends in screaming.

“Brendon? It’s mom.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“How is everything?” she asks, and I have to bite my tongue so I don’t say something that will result in another argument.

“Fine.” I settle for, rather than saying something sarcastic.

“That’s-- that’s good. Well, uh, the reason I’m calling is, your father and I, we’d like o talk to you.”

“You are talking to me.” I huff, twirling my pencil between my fingers.

“I mean in person. We want to invite you over for dinner tonight.” She sounds like she’s nervous that I’ll decline. Which I plan to do.

“Ryan and I were going to go out tonight.” I’ll let Ryan win if it means pissing my parents off.

“He can come too, if he wants to. We would just really like to talk to you in person, Brendon.”

“I dunno. I mean, we haven’t spoken in months, and suddenly you’re inviting us over for dinner? Kind of sounds like you’re trying to make up for something.” Nothing is ever subtle with me.

“Please, Brendon. We’d really like to speak with you, and at the very least, come to see your brothers and sisters.”

I take a moment to consider what could happen. I could piss my parents off more, and show off my boyfriend to my perfectly straight, perfectly homophobic father, could show my siblings what a badass I am.

“Fine.” I say, apprehensive.

I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Wonderful. Why don’t you two get here just as soon as possible, alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Okay, Brendon, we love--”

I hang up the phone and throw it at the opposite end of the couch.

“We’re going to my parents house for dinner.” I huff, like I’d somehow been tricked into saying yes.

“What?” He asks, eyes wide.

“Shut up. Just-- don’t ask any fucking questions. Get something on. I don’t want them thinking that we’re destitute or something.”

“Brendon-- Brendon. Do you hear yourself? You’re telling me to get dressed up for dinner with your parents. Your parents, Brendon. You hate your parents.”

“Ryan. I just told you. Don’t ask questions. Just get something fucking decent on. You look like you’re homeless.”

“You love this shirt!”

“I also love when you listen. Get some fucking clothes on.”

--

It takes Ryan thirty minutes to finally give in and change his clothes. Ten to find something appropriate to wear. And five for us to drive to my parent’s house.

I ring the doorbell, frowning as Ryan mumbles something about how ridiculous I’m being.

The door creaks open, and one of my brothers peeks his head out. He frowns, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?” he asks, pulling the door all the way open.

“Mom invited us over for dinner.” I frown, watching as he looks Ryan over.

“Both of you?” he asks, looking like he’s tasted something bitter.

“Yes, both of us. Open the door.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing open the screen door to let us in. “Mom, it’s the prodigal son.” He huffs, jogging up the stairs as my mother walks out of the kitchen, into the family room to greet us.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she smiles, wrapping her arms around me. I hug back, but only because I’ve got manners.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“Ryan,” she smiles, turning to face him, “It’s nice to see you again.” He nods, shaking her hand, but he doesn’t say anything. “Well,” she says awkwardly, “dinner will be done in about half an hour. Why don’t you take that time to introduce Ryan to your brothers and sisters?” she smiles, like the past couple of months never happened.

“Uh. Yeah.” I grimace, grabbing Ryan’s hand and walking him up the stairs.

My family isn’t too keen on meeting their gay brother’s gay boyfriend. They’re aren’t pleased that we’ve been living with each other, or how I’ve treated my parents, or that we’re in their house.

So, when dinner is ready, I am greatly relieved.

Except that now I have to speak with my father.

“So, Ryan,” my dad says, looking at his plate and plowing piles of food into his mouth as he speaks, “what do you do for a living?”

I’m a little confused as to why he’s acting like this is a meet the parents kind of date. And I think Ryan feels the same.

“I graduated last may, so I’m about to start college.” he says simply. He really, obviously, does not want to be here.

There’s a tense silence where I feel like we should leave. I’d really like to leave.

There’s more small talk, more awkward silences, and I feel extremely grateful when dinner is over.

“Brendon,” my mom says as a few of my brothers clear the table, “we’d like to speak to you alone.” she says, getting to her feet. I nod, and follow them into the family room.

I sit across from them as they look like they’re trying to gather their thoughts.

“We knows these last few months have been tense,” my mother says, looking me in the eyes, “but we’d like you to come home, Brendon.”

I frown, and let my eyes bounce between them.

“I’m sorry, what?”

--

“They want me to move back, Ryan.” I huff, laying on my back on our bed.

Or, I guess, Ryan’s bed, if I go back.

“You’re not going to, are you?” He asks from the corner, where his laptop his situated on the desk.

“No-- I mean, I don’t think I will--”

“What?” he asks, turning to face me. “Brendon. You can’t move back. They haven’t spoken to you in like, two months.”

“I know.” I sigh, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “It’s just-- they’re my parents. And we’re family. And I just. I don’t fucking know.”

“If you’re unsure, then don’t do it. Tell them to fuck off, or something.”

“Ryan. Don’t be fucking ridiculous.”

“I’m not! But you’re thinking about moving back, after they like, abandoned you!”

“What’s your fucking problem? You should be happy for me! My parents don’t fucking hate me!”

“Because you’re going to leave!” He’s yelling now, eyes wide and scared. “You’re going to leave to go back to a family that didn’t want you, and we won’t be together all the time, and you won’t fucking need me anymore!”

I frown, sitting up to get a better look at him. “What?”

“You’re going to leave, and I won’t always be with you, and I’ll be the last to know things, and I won’t be able to see you whenever I want to, and you’ll have your real family, and you’re not going to need me anymore!”

“Ryan. That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But it’s not!” And he looks honestly scared. Fucking terrified. “You won’t be living with me anymore! And like, once you’ve got somewhere to live, you won’t need to be over here all the time anymore, and eventually you’ll just stop coming over completely, and we won’t see each other at school, and I’ll just be like, an after thought!”

I watch him carefully, my mouth hanging open slightly. “Are you fucking retarded?” He doesn’t really react, just continues to watch me. “Like, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Do you honestly think I’m that kind of a person? Even if I did decide to go back with my parents, which I haven’t, do you think I’d actually spend time there? Time that I could be spending with you?”

He frowns, and his eyes are watering, and that asshole is crying over this.

“It’s not like we’re only together is for me to have a place to stay. We were dating before I got kicked out, remember? And even so, it’s not like you become instantly useless if I have somewhere else to stay. God, you’re such a dick.”

“I don’t want you to leave, Brendon.” He says, and he looks pissed off.

“I don’t want to leave, Ryan. But I need to fix things with my parents. I wouldn’t leave because I don’t want you anymore. If anything, I’d go over there for a week at the most, and then I’d be back here because I missed you so fucking much.”

He watches me with a frown on his face, and I get up to kiss him. “You’re so fucking stupid.” I mumble.

“Whatever.” he frowns stupidly as he turns to face his laptop.

And it maybe hurts my feelings a little.

A little.