I'm Gay and I'm Leaving

I was so stupid. There was only one house we could go to, and that house belonged to Jack's family. What if he has enough of seeing me 24/7 in two weeks? Where will we go then? Thoughts like this clouded my mind for the full five minutes of the trip, which felt like hours. I forget how close Jack's house is.

I forgot all my thoughts when I saw that beautiful face. I raced to Jack and gave him small kisses all over his face and finally a big one, smack on the lips. It felt nice, kissing him in public. When we stopped, Mum was as red as a tomato. I forgot that she was new to the whole me being gay thing. She wanted to accept me, and she was trying, as opposed to Dad, who wanted nothing to do with me.

Jack's mum came out of the house soon after. She knows that I'm gay, of course. I gave Jack permission to tell her before I told mine. I think she knew all along, though. She smiled her welcoming smile. Jack and his mother share the same smile, but Jack also has his father's devishly handsome eyes. I was overwhelmed. I cried my thank you to everyone on the front porch.

"It's fine, dear. You can stay here as long as you need to. It's no trouble, believe me," said Jack's mum without relaxing her smile.

"Thanks for everything Mrs Deans. It means the world to me," I said cheesily.

* * *

I hadn't heard from my father in three weeks. I still loved him, nothing could change that, but he was so close-minded sometimes. He's good at maths, English (not so good at Welsh) and Geography, let alone his talent as a father, fishing and telling stories. I wasn't ready to lose him. Not yet. I started crying for the fifth time that week.

Jack was next to me, rubbing the small of my back and comforting me. We slept in the same room, as his house wasn't too big. Jack kissed me on my lips, which were salty since I'd been crying.

"You don't know how much I love you, Bobs. I wish I could do everything to help you. I want to say the right things, but I don't know how. I can't speak badly about your dad because he was a good person. He just needs to learn how to be a better, accepting one."

"You always say you don't know what to say, but you always say the right things. Thanks for that," I said as I pecked his lips.

"Have you tried calling him?" suggested Jack.

"You're a genius, but he doesn't want to speak to me."

"Well, you want to speak to him, and that's good enough for me."

Jack rushed to get his phone as I fiddled with my fingers. He was back, as quick as a flash, but I wasn't ready to speak to my dad. Not yet. I looked at Jack and realised that he was never going to stop bugging me until I did this, so I tried calling him.

I listened for an answer, but it went straight to voicemail:

"You've found Rob Jones. I'm busy right now, so leave a message if you have to. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I'd never heard that recording before, but it was pretty old, I could tell that. It was strange that he hadn't picked up. He never ignores a call unless in extreme conditions. Even when he's driving it's on speakerphone, so why didn't he answer?

"I need to go," I said quickly as I raced out of the room.

"Bobs, you can try again..."

There was no point. That man didn't lose a call if everything was fine. I left Jack's safe house to visit the man who kicked me out just three weeks earlier.

* * *

I walked slowly towards my old house. It looked just like it did before. Simple. Normal. Like nothing was wrong. Like a regular family lived there: two parents and 1 - 4 heterosexual children. I laughed at the absurdity before stopping myself as I remembered why I'd come.

The door wasn't locked and his car was parked, so I guess he was in the house. Strangely, there was another car outside. That's odd. By walking through the door, I saw that everything was spotless. Everything was as it should be. Just like it was before. I found that creepy.

I snooped through the living room to see if the Mr Rob Jones had changed anything. The simple answer was no. Everything was the same, which was unsettling. I went through the door to the dining room which was the same. Nothing out of place. Everything perfect.

I saw one difference in the kitchen. My dad had bought wine. Mum hates alcohol, since she had quite an embarrassing experience with it in uni. She says it was hard for her to quit, so she kept the house alcohol free, which meant no wine for dad. I then crept to the bottom of the stairs.

There were sounds coming from upstairs. Strange sounds. They were unclear and quiet, like they didn't want to be heard. I walked slowly up the stairs. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. I actually had to remind myself how to walk I was feeling so uneasy. I reached the landing.

The sounds were definitely coming from Dad's room. Still as quiet as a mouse, I peeked into the room, as the door was ajar. Dad was cheating on Mum, but they were going to have a divorce soon or something. Their relationship was complicated. What worried me was that the two turned to me. Dad had caught me seeing him kiss another man.