“I’ve done some awful things.” Callum sobbed.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t, because you weren’t there!”
Ezra stayed silent, staring at him with solemn eyes.
“It started out with small things—refusing to tidy up after myself, not doing my homework so I’d get a detention, skipping school—anythingthat meant Mum would have to talk to me, even if it was just to shout at me. But when that didn’t work, I started drinking and staying out to the early hours of the morning with friends, but she still didn’t care. All that mattered was that I was a shit son because I wouldn’t reply to his letters or talk to him on the phone.” Tears rolled down Callum’s cheeks, so he wiped them away roughly with the heels of his hands.
“I was so angry,” he admitted. “I didn’t understand why Mum and Molly could hate me for not wanting to talk to dad. Hekilledsomeone for fuck’s sake.”
“I didn’t understand how they could stand by him either,” Ezra said. “But I was too blinded by how unsafe that mademefeel to stick around and watch out for you. I’m sorry.”
“You probably thought I was just like them.”
“That’s not true.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Why am I so different from them? Why don’t I hate like them?”
“I don’t know. I asked myself the same question over and over growing up. How could I be gay when everyone around me told me it was wrong?”
“It’s not wrong,” Callum mumbled. “They’rewrong. But their hate doesn’t excuse the way I behaved, or the shitty things I’ve done.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve been punished for doing those things.” Ezra sat beside him. “You’ve done your time, and you clearly feel a great deal of remorse, something your shit of a dad hasnevershown.”
Callum coughed out a laugh, that much was true.
“And now you’re trying to turn things around. Youareturning things around.”
Callum nodded. Things had felt better over the last few days, since Michael had given him a chance at the club. The attention Dylan gave him was helping too, now that it wasn’t solely about getting him into bed.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” Ezra said.
“How long have you known you were gay?”
Ezra wiped his hands over his face and then cupped them around his chin, pressing the pads of his fingers together. “IsuspectedI was from when I was about ten or eleven, but I didn’t embrace it until I left home. Even then, I knew I had to keep it secret from my parents and your mum.”
Callum nodded in understanding. He only had a dim memory of his grandparents, but they’d been stupidly intolerant of anyone who wasn’t whiteandstraight. He’d never wanted to visit them, but had been dragged to see them by his parents, weekend after weekend.
“Can I…tell you something?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“I…I think I might be bisexual.”
“You do?”
“I mean…I’m not sure, but…I…” He shook his head, knowing he couldn’t explain himself. “I don’t know, Ezra. I’m confused and I’m scared, and I know that if I am, I’llneverbe able to tell Mum or Molly, and if Dad found out—” He shuddered violently.
“Fuck,” Ezra said.
Callum looked at him sharply.
“Not you,” Ezra assured him. “I’m pissed at myself for being such a crappy role model.”
“You’re not.” Callum hadn’t meant to make his uncle feel bad.
