Trigger Warning: homophobia

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"Mom, Dad?" I ask tentatively, stepping into the kitchen.

"What is it, Honey?" my mom asks, concern masking her face. My dad just sits there, unbothered by anything other than his newspaper. They are sitting at the breakfast nook as they do every morning.

"Um, well, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now," I say, starting to fidget. I can feel sweat droplets forming across my hairline. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and "I'm gay."

There, I said it. I risk a peek to see their reactions. Mom seems like she's processing then she says "I'm glad you told us, Mickey. We still love you."

"We? Who's 'we'?" It's my dad. He has his newspaper on the table, his green tea eyes darkened by his rage. His hands are balled into tight fists, his veins look ready to burst.

I start to back away, afraid of what might happen if I stay. Everything seems to slow down, almost to a standstill. My mom is the first to move. 

"Jacob, please, calm down. It's ok," she whispers comfortingly.

"How can you be ok with this, Debbie!? You are not my son anymore, I ain't raise no faggot! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, NOW!" I'm too scared to move, so mom moves for me. She walks calmly towards him and slaps him hard across the face. His reading glasses fly across the floor and land near the stove.

"If anyone is leaving, it will be you, Jacob," her voice is scarily calm. "He is my son, and this is MY house. It was given to me by my mother. Michael is staying here and if you can't accept that or who he is, you can leave."

Dad clenches his jaw so hard, I fear his teeth will crack. He walks towards his glasses, stooping over to pick them up before walking towards me to leave. 

*Beep beep, beep beep*

Great, that dream again. I wriggle my arm out of my cocoon and place it across my forehead, it's drenched with sweat. I untangle the rest of my body from my blanket cocoon and reach over to my side table to turn off my alarm. Every so often I am reminded of this memory which is one of my best and worst. I decided to come out to my parents when I was 15 after I realized I didn't like girls. Like at all. I waited until my younger siblings went away to a sleepover. I didn't know what to expect but I was so relieved when my mother accepted me however, it was short-lived. I never wanted to disappoint my father but I can't help who I am. I didn't see my dad for six months before he decided to come back home and even when he did I could still sense that he wasn't accepting of me. After about three years or so, I began to feel that uncertainty dissipate and I knew he had fully accepted me. He started looking me in the eye again and when he smiled at me, it was genuine and not tight-lipped as it had been.

Sitting up, I look over to my roommate's, Devon,  side of the room. His bed is empty since he had to go to soccer practice this morning. Devon and I have been roommates and best friends since freshman year. I don't know how we became best friends since we are complete opposites; Devon is always hanging out until late, partying, and being a social butterfly, while I never go out and really only have two friends. Regardless, we have become great friends and I would be a complete loner without him.

As I head to our in-room bathroom, I am reminded that I only have one class today. Unfortunately, it's my Literary Theory and Criticism class which is two dreadful hours long. I brush my teeth and comb out my shoulder-length, blonde curls. Afterward, I put on mascara and add a bit of white eyeliner to my lower eyelid, in order to make my crystal clear blue eyes appear brighter. Today's outfit consists of stolen hoodie #3 from Devon's closet with a pair of black leggings to match the skull on the gray hoodie. I pull on a pair of white hightop Vans and grab my phone, earbuds, and book bag.

Leaving my dorm building, I put my earbuds in and make my way towards my class. I play my favorite artist, The Castaways, and pull up my hood. This is my daily routine and how I always walk to class. It's no wonder no one talks to me, I exude the aura of a loner and people know it. Which is why when I enter the classroom, no one sits next to me, they all let me have a table to myself. I've gotten used to this kind of treatment, I might even say that I live for it. I enjoy being by myself and I don't mind the lack of social interaction.

The class ends before I know it, thank goodness. I am the first one out the door and make a beeline straight to my dorm. I get there in no time and I find a note on my desk when I enter.

Went to class, be back around 3. -Dev

I place the note into my top drawer where I keep all the notes he leaves. I can't remember when I started to save the notes, or why but I have accumulated quite a lot, the drawer is starting to get a little full. I check the time; 3:05 p.m. He should be back soon. I start to take off my shoes when the door bursts open.