Red Lines

As I stepped out of my last exam I felt lightheaded and euphoric, I felt almost liberated by the realisation that it was over. I walked slowly, just because I could. This was the best I had felt in years, even if I still had work in only a few hours and tomorrow I would have to go and visit my family at least for now I was free of everything. I didn’t need to worry about what my results would be, I was a straight A student, that’s what I worked myself so hard for. I knew this feeling of elation wouldn’t last long so I was going to cling onto it for as long as I could bare. I enjoyed the warmth radiating from the bright sun, I even felt my lips upturn in an unfamiliar smile when I saw my old friends.

I took the long route back to my flat, even stopping to treat myself to an ice cream cone. I turned my music up loud and lay back on my bed, relaxing into the covers and the sun that filtered through the window. I let my eyes close but I didn’t fall asleep, just let the enjoyment of doing nothing take over. Summer was finally here and for a few hours I was going to enjoy it like everyone else.

My boss had noticed the dramatic change in my mood when I turned up to work that day, making note of it and telling me that she hadn’t ever seen me this happy. She asked if I had started seeing someone, I almost laughed at that.
“I’ve finally finished.” I told her simply and even though I wasn’t looking at her I knew she had rolled her eyes as she said a “what else?”. My boss, Andrea, had become like a second mother to me, she respected me beyond belief for how hard I worked, even if she rolled her eyes and told me off when I was in a snappy mood because of it. I wasn’t sure how old she was, she tells me she’s been twenty one for the past thirty years but she is a beautiful Mexican women, full of wisdom and wise cracks and wrinkles from years of smiles and laughter. She tried to set me up with her daughter once and it was only then that I had the heart to tell her I was gay, just because I knew it would have been worse if I had rejected the idea of dating her daughter. I got a clip around the ear for that one and a lecture that I should tell her things like this, after all I spent more time with her than I did my own mother. She was right though and I knew she thought of me as her son as much as I did her my mother, at least she cared for me more than my own mother. I had a sneaking suspicion that she had known I was gay and that had just been her way of forcing the words out of me since it wasn’t exactly a piece of information I was just willing to give up. Of course once the knowledge of my sexuality was out she seemed to find it the funniest thing in the world each time the girls from the book club came to talk to me, she liked to call them my ‘personal cheerleaders’ which each time only succeeding in putting me in a worse mood.

That day not even my ‘personal cheerleaders’ or Andrea and her cheeky remarks could dampen my mood though, at least I thought so. I smiled at costumers and I wished everyone a wonderful day, I even made the mistake of asking the group of teens what book they were reading when they came up to pay for their orders before taking over the corner of couches. Two of them stood their telling me all about the book as I made their drinks and, persistent as ever, one of them asked me if I would like to join.
“This is never going to happen.” I told her over the coffee machine, ignoring her invitation. She knew perfectly well that I wasn’t talking about the book club, she wasn’t that stupid.
“But why? I’m not that much younger than you really.”
“That’s not the issue.” She pouted as I handed over her drink and I let out a sigh. “I’m gay, okay?” I finally muttered, as I left to serve another costumer, not giving her time to react. Of course that didn’t mean I didn’t hear the loud ‘oh my God’ she let out. My eyes momentarily flickered to her to see she was smiling widely in my direction.
“Why didn’t you tell me to begin with? I feel so silly, I should’ve guessed.” She said as I made another coffee, already regretting having shared my secret with her.
“It’s not exactly something I go around telling everyone. I just didn’t want you fawning over something that will never happen. Please don’t make a big scene about this, I would rather the whole café not know my secret.”
“It shouldn’t a secret though, you should be proud.”
“Well i’m not, so just leave it.” I told her, my mood suddenly plummeting back to it’s normal state. I shouldn’t have told her. I get this feeling every time someone finds out, at first it feels good to have someone else know but within minutes I wish I could just take it back so nobody had to know and I could just live in a damn closet for the rest of my life. At least then my mother wouldn’t hate me and I could be a real brother to my eleven year old sister.