Questions

There's a knock on the front door and I rush over giddily. I knew exactly who was at that door. I'd been waiting since January to see him again. And it was now February. It was to long.

I thrust open the door, and all I see is a flash of mousy brown. I put my arms around Jordan, kissing his head. My arms grip him tightly, squeezing him lightly. It felt so great when he was in my arms. Jordan muzzles his head into my shoulder.

"It’s so good to see you, Jord." I whisper when he looks up at me. I capture his lips in a soft, but quick kiss. He intertwines his fingers with mine as he pulls away. He turns around and looks at his parents, just remembering they were behind us. He blushes softly, while I rub circles on his hands.

I courteously smile as his parents. "Hi, Mrs. and Mr. W. how are you two?"

"We're fine, Christofer, but you know its Phil and Lacey. Mr. And Mrs. Witzigreuter are my parents." Phil laughs softly.

"How are you Chris? You look great." his mom compliments.

“Thanks, I’m great.” I hold open the door, allowing them to walk inside. I lead them into the living room sitting across from the couch. They sit next to each other, before Jordan collapse on top of me, leaning against my chest. I can feel him sigh and relax into me.

His parents smile at us.

“You know Christofer, when Jordan told us you were dating him, we were surprised. Never in my life did I think you were gay. Bisexual maybe, but never gay.” His mother states.

“Well think about it, Lacey, if he came out his parents would have responded badly. And from what Jordan told us, they did.”

“Yeah, they did react badly, but I’m happier now that I’m out. I have your son to thank for that.” I grin down at Jordan.

"You two are good together." Jordan's dad comments.

I smile, "Thanks."

"And thanks to you, we've started going to church again. Jordan told us about the kind of church you took him to and googled it for one close by. It's a thirty minute drive, but well worth it."

I nod, "at least they have one in Indiana."

"That's right; they aren't any in Missouri, well at least in a two hour radius."

"But Fort Wayne is nothing like Joplin." Jordan states.

"Yeah, Joplin is surely one of a kind." I reply, sarcasm seeping out.

I bite my lip, one question dripping off my tongue, just waiting to be asked. Jordan's moving around in my lap, long fingers gripping my shirt.

"Is something wrong Christofer?"

"I... Um... I don't know. Did um... Have my parents talked to you as of recently?" I ask, looking down at Jordan's shirt clench hand.

Both his parents exchange looks. I'm not sure if it's because they're confirming that one of them called, or if they're deciding to share it with me or not. Phil shakes his head at Lacey.

"No Christofer, why? They aren't harassing you are they?"

"No, I was just wondering. Even though they hate me for being gay, they're still my parents." Lie. I needed to know if they were bothering or had bothered them like they had me.

The two nod, "we understand. No matter what they or you do, you're still related."

Jordan weakly smile, leaning up at me. I lean down and press my lips to his in a caring manner.

It was great to have him back in my arms.

-

I excuse myself to the bathroom during a heated discussion about the forthcoming episode of this television series. We all had our own opinions and tried each other that what we thought was most plausible. Cameron and Grant could probably keep Jordan and his parents preoccupied while I was gone.

I sneak out the back door, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in my pocket. I don't think I could ever tell Christofer that I started smoking more, again.

I just needed to take the edge off of the constant harassment my parents were giving me before I changed my phone number. Smoking just gave me that calm, that
I needed to focus on school. My GPA had dropped down to a 3.6 until I started smoking more. Whatever helps, you know?

I was just hoping Jordan wouldn't find out. He hated that I smoked one cigarette a day. I have no idea what he'd do if he found out the habit had jumped up to anywhere from five to seven a day. I'd have to tell him sooner or later. I know he'd be disappointed to learn this, but I know he'd be disappointed and furious if he found out from seeing me do so.

I'd probably tell him later tonight. He was staying with us and his parents were residing in a hotel not ten minutes from here, for the week they were down here. His parents promised us they’d leave us alone and let us be all ‘close and kissy.’

I let out a soft sigh, snuffing out the light bud. I open the door back up, hanging up my hoodie and throwing my pack of cigarette in my top draw. I walk back out to the living room, plopping down next to Jordan on the couch and instantly pull him into my lap.

He leans back into me. He snuggles into my shirt. He frowns when his nose wrinkles. I bite my lip mouthing, ‘sorry, I’ll tell you later.’ He exhales noisily, before nodding at me.

I didn’t know the smell of smoke was so potent, especially since it was so windy and I had worn a coat. That’s how I had thought I had hid it from my parents all these years. Either my parents were anosmic, which they weren’t or they just didn’t notice. I don’t understand how they didn’t notice. I had left my pack out in the open so many times. Hell, one time my mom left me a stack of clean clothes right next to it.

Jordan’s parents leave a bit later, stating that the jet lag was getting the better of them. I nod in agreement. Though it was only eight here it was at least eleven back in Indiana. Jordan and I wave to them from the door as they drive away.

I turn to Jordan once they leave, my arms around his tiny waist. I’m about to explain the smell of smoke. “Jordan, I ah-”

He puts his pointer finger infront of my lips, hindering me from finishing. “It’s alright. I already know.”

I’m left dumbstruck as he pecks my lips and pulls me back to the couch. How was he not the least bit disappointed in me?