But sometimes, it needs to be night in order for it to turn into day. It wasn’t night for me, yet; it was, maybe, late afternoon, and I was about to step into my own nighttime for the first time.

That’s not an analogy for life. It’s an analogy for the phases of life. Things are bright, then get brighter and brighter, so to speak. Then they slowly decline until it inevitably ends. High school, college, marriages, relationships, projects; they all go through this.

It could, yeah, but for me, personally, it worked as the phases analogy. Looking back, it’s easier to keep track of.

And for me, I was going into my nighttime for the first time. My day was ending, and the night was so overdue.

In the week after the celebration, it had been planned out so carefully, down to the last minute. Ryan would appear outside should it go well or not. The keys sat in my pocket. I sat in my room, completely terrified that everything would be blown out of proportion. A knock came from the door, and I might as well as jumped straight through the ceiling. It was Alyssa. She poked in her head from the door. She looked nervous.

“You ready?” she asked.

“No.”

“Come on.” She pulled me up from my bed and led me into the hallway.

“Dinnertime,” called my stepmom from the kitchen.

We both exchanged looks of complete and utter nervousness. We walked downstairs separately, and sat down in our seats at the table. We served ourselves, and the talking began. Alyssa and I stayed “naturally” quiet.

Our unspoken-ness was noticed right off the bat. “What’s wrong with you two?” asked Dad.

“I need to say something,” I said, a little too hastily.

“Well, what?” asked my stepmom.

“I need you to stop eating first.” Everyone did, except for Sam, who stopped with a chicken leg dangling out of his mouth. “Thanks.”

My dad looked at me concerned. “What’s wrong, Adrian?”

“Well…I’m gay.”

Dear God, if my dad’s mouth had dropped any lower, he might as well have lost his jaw.

“What?” my stepmom asked.

“I’m gay,” I repeated.

My dad shook his head. “It’s just a phase, Adrian.”

“No it isn’t,” put in Alyssa.

“Thank you, Alyssa,” I snapped.

“Wait, Alyssa, you knew?” Dad asked.

She nodded. “I was the first one he came out to.”

My dad looked at me and smiled. I felt like all the previous doubts I had about him had disappeared. “It’s just a phase, Adrian. It’ll pass. You’ll find yourself a nice girl, wait and see,” he said, smiling.

Well, the doubts have been confirmed. Why did I even bother in thinking that it would go any other way than that? But, it lifted the pit in my stomach and filled it with disgust and disappointment. My actions after that were a little dramatic, but it came from my desire to get away.

I got up from the table and went to my room. I pulled out my suitcase and began packing it. When I was done, I put on my coat, and walked down the stairs towards the front door. “Where are you going,” Dad asked.

“Well, since you guys didn’t listen to me before or now, I’m going to go stay with a friend. I’ll come by later to pick up the rest of my stuff.” Though my dad didn’t understand, I put it simply. “I’m kicking myself out of this house.”

“Now Adrian,” said Dad, getting up from his chair at the table, “aren’t you being a little melodramatic?”

“Dad, lets just say, hypothetically, what would you do if I actually was gay?”

The words hung in the air for so long. His answer only made me angry. “Well, naturally, you wouldn’t be gay if you were my child.”

Through my gritted teeth, I replied, “Then, Dad, I’m not your child.”

I walked straight out of the house towards the curb. Dad followed me.

“Adrian, stop. You’re not gay.”

I turned to him. “Yeah, I am Dad. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I am, but, Adrian, you’re just overreacting because there aren’t any girls who you like.”

“No, Dad. I like guys. Like, I don’t like girls at all.”

“Adrian, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re – ”

I slapped him across the face. Behind him, my stepmom flinched at the front door. It wasn’t necessarily part of my plan, but it just happened that way. It was more of a gut reaction, honestly. But Dad placed his hand on the slapped area of his face and stared at me in shock. “You’re not listening to me, at all.”

Alyssa walked up beside me carrying her backpack.

“And where the hell are you going?” he mumbled, his eyes darting to her then back to me.

“I’m going with Adrian.”

I began, “You really don’t have to – ”

“No, Adrian. I’m coming with you.” I glared at her somewhat suspiciously. You’re being too supportive for a twelve year old. Alyssa glared at Dad. “Thanks for everything, Mr. Murphy. It was nice while it lasted.” She frowned a little. “I’m going to go stay over at Rebecca’s house for a little. When Adrian comes back, I will too.”

I looked at him, hoping for him to make the situation any better. “It’s your choice, Dad. We can, just, talk about this or something. Or…we can, stay away for a little.” Dad looked at both of us. Saying nothing, he turned back and walked into the house. We looked at each other with blank expressions, and I kneeled down to get level with Alyssa. “So you’re confirmed to go over to Rebecca’s house? Because I’m sure I can get the Anders’ to make a spot for two.”

“No, it’s okay. We’ve always been talking about having a sleepover.”

“Are you sure y – ”

“Adrian, I’m going to be supportive of you. And I’m not going to the Anders house either, because you two lovebirds needs some space,” she told me, smiling.

I frowned slightly. There’s the reason why she’s being supportive. “So it isn’t because I just kicked myself out?”

She sneered and shook her head. “It’s part of that. But I also want you two to end up together. He’s nice.”

I sighed, deciding that I didn’t want to talk about it that much anymore. “Okay. Do you want me to drive you to Rebecca’s house?”

“You don’t have the keys. And you can’t drive.”

I pulled out the spare set from my pocket, and dangled it in front of her face. “I have a learners permit. And are you sure you don’t want me to take you up on that offer?”

Alyssa smiled and said, “You know I can’t resist a car ride over walking.”

I smiled, and we hopped into the car. We started it up, which brought Dad, Sam, and my stepmom out the front door. Dad was angry, and, followed by my stepmom, came towards the driveway.

“Adrian,” Dad began, “get out of my car now.”

I reversed into the street and drove away with my stepmom watching from the curb.

We sat at the park and waited. We were early. Though Alyssa was comforting, I was just relieved that Ryan appeared on time.

“It was that badly, huh?” he asked, catching sight of my long face.

“Yeah,” she answered.

I heard Ryan gasp, and then get into the car. “Adrian, you both can stay with me. It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks, Ryan.” I cleared my throat, and turned the key, starting the engine. “But, uh, Alyssa has already decided that she wants to go to her friend’s house.”

I dropped off Alyssa in Rebecca’s driveway. Ryan got out as well and moved to the front seat, pleased to see me but sorry for me simultaneously. “So, where is your house?” I asked quietly.

“All the way down to Milland Road that way,” he said, pointing north. “Take a right, all the way down, take the second to last left.”

As I plotted it out in my head, I looked at him, confused. “That would put your house all the way on the beach.”

Ryan slid further into his seat, almost like he was ashamed of his family, which he slightly was. I turned to the steering wheel, and drove to the Anders’ residence.

The Anders’ residence started with a driveway lined by the houses and gardening on either side. The house was in its own little world; the street couldn’t be seen, and the residences on either side of the driveway couldn’t be seen unless you wanted to.

It was a little Colonial-styled facade house of red brick. The front of the house was modest, at best, but it was tall. It looked a little like my house.

“I was expecting something a little different,” I said.

“What did you expect?” he asked, as he took my bag out of the back seat.

“I don’t know. Something smaller?”

Ryan smirked at me and headed for the front door. I tugged on Ryan’s sleeve, stopping him. “What if they don’t believe me? That I was thrown out of my house for being gay?” I looked up into his eyes and said, “They’re still don’t understand that you’re gay. What if they don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a short pause. I let go of him and thought for a second. “That’s your ‘thinking face’,” Ryan enthusiastically pointed out.

I looked back up to him. “Okay, if things begin going south, just, follow my lead, okay?”

Ryan nodded, and we walked in through the front door.

The ceiling was high, higher than anything I had seen in a residential house. His home was a lot bigger, and grander, than I expected. The front hall was bigger than my house’s and the dining room put together.

The rest of the Anders’ family had sat down for dinner when Ryan and I walked in. At the sight of Ryan carrying a suitcase and some strange guy walking through the front door, Mrs. Anders stood to see if we needed any help.

“Ryan…welcome back,” said his brother in a semi-sarcastic tone.

I immediately didn’t like him.

“Who’s this?” asked Mrs. Anders.

“This is Adrian. He was thrown out of his house for being gay.” A frown encompassed his dad’s face. “I agreed to let him stay here a while.”

I looked at him and thought, Yes, Ryan, because that’s exactly how I wanted to be introduced to your family – as a gay reject.

His dad stood up from the table. “I don’t think that is a good idea, Ryan.” He crossed over to the both of us and said, “Isn’t it a bad idea? He could influence you.”

Oh, my God. At least he isn’t as bad as my father.

Ryan rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. His hands rolled into fists. “Dad, for the billionth time, I am gay. How many times do I have to tell you – ”

I tugged on Ryan’s shirt, suddenly realizing that “going south” shouldn’t have even been a second thought; it was already bad. He turned to me and I planted a kiss on his lips.

Well, it was more like I kissed half his mouth. I was aiming for his cheek. Ryan turned his head too far.

But in the moment, it seemed like an act of defiance against my dad and his, but I regretted it immediately. In another sense, it was weird.

Ryan got really into the kiss, which made it a little worse.

When we pulled away from each other, his dad looked like he had seen a ghost. His whole family, still around the dining room table, looked shocked. I glared at Mr. Anders, and took his son’s hand. You fucked up so bad, Adrian. “Ryan, where can I drop my stuff?”

Ryan squeezed my hand, and led me up the stairs, with his family watching awe-struck.

His room was painted blue. Stained, wooden furniture sat neatly against the walls. There was one large bookshelf that sat, slightly dusty, against the wall that separated his small walk-in closet and his private bathroom. The bookshelf housed a nice selection of books, theater souvenirs, and an alarming amount of models pertaining to almost every genre possible, as well as a moderate expanse of Hayao Miyazaki and Tim Burton memorabilia.

Oh, God, Adrian, he’s such a dork.

“What was that for?” he asked. He closed the door to his room and crossed his arms, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry. The situation was so far south and…it’s just that…I don’t know. He ticked me off. And I thought I was going to just kiss your cheek. But you turned your head too far.”

He crossed the room towards me. “Was that your first kiss?” he whispered.

I embarrassedly nodded. I had actually imagined how my first kiss would be – after a couple dates with a nameless man in college who I had begun to like, he’d lean forward and produce a light, gentle thing that’d make my skin crawl – innocent but linear; in the long run, it wouldn’t have worked out. But, my first kiss was a spiteful thing that was used to prove a point, most likely embarrassing myself in the process.

“Where can I put this?” I asked, choking on my words as I swung my bag across the floor.

I stumbled backwards while I moved it. Ryan caught me and sat me down in his desk chair. “Are you okay?”

I nodded again, but felt that unhappy lump forming in my throat. In the span of less than five hours, I instigated the collapse of my life. I was rejected by my family, save for Alyssa. Even in Ryan’s room, I could sense his family judging me; I felt unwanted by everyone in his house. School was another subject entirely.

I blamed myself. Why did you have to come out to them? Why did you have to do it? You’re such an idiot. I just keeled over and began tearing up. Ryan wrapped his arms around me while I softly cried.

Finally, I sat up. Tears still streaming down my face, I pushed him away and slapped him. “Why do you have to like me? None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t like me,” I shouted. “I-I could’ve just stayed in the closet to my family until after college, and, and then never speak to them again! Why do you have to like me?!” The red mark across Ryan’s face was about the size of my palm. He quickly took a step back and kneeled, placing his hand across his face. “Why do you have to like me?” I repeated. Ryan stood up and walked out of the room.

I watched him leave and brought his hand around the wood to close it, but the latch bolt kept the door from shutting all the way, leaving a quiet ringing to pound against my eardrums while I observed the emptiness of the outside hall that lay beyond his room.

I began hyperventilating. What had I done? I’ll be kicked out and be living on the streets with Alyssa for the rest of my life and I’ll have no one forever and I’ll die because I didn’t have any money to see a doctor and I’ll die because of some infection from getting in a fight and Alyssa’ll just – what?

Ryan walked back in, a wet washcloth on his face and a tissue box in his other hand. He handed me the box and sat down on his bed. “Adrian, I don’t think you meant it. Any of it. You’re just, you’re just hurt, and want someone to take it out on.” He kneeled down again in front of me. He grabbed my hand and said, “I told you you can stay here for as long as you need to, okay?”

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing; it didn’t work. Hesitantly, I took Ryan’s washcloth off his face, only to really see what I had done, but by that point, it was minimal damage. It was a slap in the face, not me stabbing him with a fork.

But I just felt so bad for myself, bad for him, and hating myself that I would even do something like that at all. I pulled myself into a ball and whispered over and over, “I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I-it’s okay.” He exhaled slowly, and wrapped his arms around me again.

I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard in my life. Up until that point, at least. And it still wasn’t my nighttime for me, yet. It was only getting a little darker.