“Oh, my sweet, innocent Simon. It’s an old joke; don’t worry about it. Just know I am extremely proud of you. This is a brave and amazing first step. Now, tell me about your journey and how I can support you.”
The words come easier than I would have thought, for never having said them aloud before.
“I think I know why it has taken me so long to say these words out loud and accept myself. I thought about it on the drive over here,” I explain. “It’s my gay moms. Growing up was rough at times. I love my moms fully, but their relationship caused me a lot of teasing. Kids said the cruelest things. They taunted me that I would turn out gay too, just like my moms.”
“Oh, Simon. I’m so sorry.”
“The bullying was painful, and I never wanted to prove the other kids right. So, anytime I thought of boys in a certain way, I suppressed the feelings. I didn’t want to…I couldn’t be myself. I was too afraid. Truth be told, everything frightens me. This must sound silly to you, but does it make sense?”
“Simon! Of course it does, and it’s not silly at all. This is your truth.”
Hector leans forward until he meets my eyes. His are filled with compassion. He nods his head, and I feel seen.
“Whenever I asked a girl out, it was just to prove to the other kids I wasn’t gay. I had a few nice girlfriends, but any time they wanted more from me, I broke up with them. That’s how I ended up with the nickname Heartbreaker.”
Hector snorts a chuckle through his nose.
“It’s awful, I know. It’s what my friend Neel calls me, and I hate it!”
“Well, mijo, if the shoe fits…”
“The point is, I should have told my friends already. My best friend, Mags, came out as a lesbian last year. Neel wouldn’t care. He is such a good guy; he doesn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. But like I said, I didn’t want to prove the bullies right. So, I kept my mouth shut. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I’ve been surrounded by supportive gay family and friends, but I still didn’t feel comfortable enough to come out—even to myself.”
“But look at you now, Simon!” Hector holds out his arms and beams with pride.
My cheeks flush.
“Now, tell me about the mysterious PJ.”
It’s midnight when I sneak back into the apartment and creep quietly down the dark hall to my room. Everything is dark and peaceful; I’m careful not to wake Mom or Carole. For the second time tonight, I get undressed and crawl into bed. My mind races between worrisome thoughts. Did I blow it with PJ? I snuck out of my house for the first time ever, and… Oh, fuck! I just came out tonight. And to a total stranger to boot.
I can’t quiet my mind, and the thoughts and worries keep coming at me. I try reading my book, but an unsettled feeling in my stomach makes it hard for me to concentrate. It grows stronger and becomes more intense, like a wild animal—crazed and scared—is trying to claw its way out of my stomach. It’s ferocious! The scratching is manic. OMG, it’s like the scene from Alien when the xenomorph bursts through that guy’s stomach. Fuck!
I writhe under the sheets against the unrelenting scratching and clawing inside. It won’t leave me alone. I gasp for breath. Why is this happening now? It’s not 11:22. Unable to lie down for a second more, I rip off the covers. A startled Sammy springs from the bed. He’s on high alert with his ears sticking straight up. He knows something is wrong, so I quickly scoop him up and hold him close as I pace around the room like I did the other night.
When Sammy’s purr returns, my breathing calms a bit. The soft vibrations emanating from him help me again just like they helped before. Yes! This is what I need! Sammy saves me again. I rock back and forth while I cradle him like a new mother rocking her baby to sleep. My breathing returns to normal and the alien in my stomach stops trying to claw its way out and goes dormant. I lie back in my bed, still feeling uneasy. My last thoughts before sleep overtakes me drift to my feelings for PJ and what they mean about who I am. Is this my true self? Does this mean I need to come out to everyone? There is so much to figure out. I’ll start tomorrow. I’ll talk to Mags.
12
A Bad Case of Acne
Ineed a nap. The day drags by making it nearly impossible to stay awake. My head bobs.
“Mr. Bugg!” Mr. Hamilton shouts from behind my ear.
“Present!” I respond instinctively.
“Questionable,” he retorts. “Are we keeping you awake?”
Everyone laughs as the new, awkward kid gets called out in front of the entire Biology class. Yeah, this is fun—not! The bell can’t ring soon enough.
Ikeep my eye out for PJ. There’s a chance I’ll bump into him in the hallway, but I haven’t spotted him anywhere. I can’t wait until drama class to see him again. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him. Should I apologize? Should I play it cool? Should I ask him if he wants to get another bubble tea? I just don’t know. I take my lunch outside again and use the opportunity to text Mags. She should be at lunch now too.
Hey! You free? Can we chat?
I sit on the brick wall that has become my spot and bite my nails. My phone rings and I answer enthusiastically, “Mags!”
“Oh, you remember my name. I thought you might have forgotten it.”
