constant noise.” My dad gravitated toward the kitchen, letting out a low whistle when he saw the
high-end appliances. I chuckled because the first time I’d visited Theron, I’d thought about how my
dad would fall to his knees for the opportunity to prepare a meal in a space like this. “If you ask him
nicely, he might let you make dinner tonight.”
It was a selfish request. One thing I missed about home was my dad’s cooking. Yes, my dad’s, not
my mom’s. I shuddered at the thought. I loved her to death, but the woman was a danger to herself and
her family when she had to do anything more than warm up whatever Dad had prepped. But they were
our guests; it was probably wrong of me to hope he’d cook. But itwasmy birthday weekend, so
maybe it wasn’t so bad if I wanted a meal that reminded me of home?
“What are you getting yourself worked up about?” Theron slid up behind me, wrapping his arms
around my waist. My tension melted away as he kissed his way up my neck. “I don’t even have to
look at you to know you’re sitting there worrying about something.”
I blinked rapidly when I heard my mom say something about how sweet we looked together. Shit.
We weren’t alone. Right. Parents.
Oh well, they might as well get used to seeing me hanging onto Theron like a spider monkey. It
wasn’t my fault physical contact was the easiest way to get me to settle.
“What is it, baby?” I bristled at the term of endearment. “Relax, Sam. The only way they’re going
to think anything’s odd is if you keep tensing whenever I call you by completely innocent nicknames.”
“You’re right.” I sighed. “I just want this weekend to go well.”
Theron cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head back so he could look at me. “Everything’s
going to be fine. We got through the initial introductions without a problem, didn’t we?”
“I know, but I feel like I’m walking through a field littered with landmines. One wrong move and
Mom’s going to go off.” Stupid? Yes. Rational? Not at fucking all. But I’d always felt that way.
Mom, I think I might be gay.Even though they’d never given me a reason to doubt their love, I’d
known from a young age I was different, and gay made the most sense. I wasn’t attracted to girls,
necessarily, but the summer I was thirteen, I’d hung out with a group and I felt the most connection to
the older sister of one of my friends, who happened to be a very masculine, out and proud, lesbian.
Mom hadn’t batted an eye.
Mom, I’m non-binary.That fall, I’d realized it wasn’t a sexuality issue, but my gender identity.
That was when Sam had been born, so to speak. Instead of losing her shit, Mom asked me if I still
