Then I hear, “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” as T paces back and forth in the room, hands planted firmly on his shaved head as he tries to breathe through his panic.
I put my hand on his bicep, trying to comfort him, and say, “Hey. T, it's gonna be—”
T yanks his arm away from me and says, “Get your fucking hands off me, pervert. I can't believe I let you talk me into—”
“Cut the shit, son,” my father cuts in. “I'm disgusted by what I just walked in on, but my eyes function just fine. You were both willing participants.”
T just stares at my father, Senator Buterbaugh, for a moment, then shouts, “Fuck!” and starts pacing again.
“Calm down,” my father says, arrogantly. “No one, and I mean no one, is going to find out about this.”
T stops pacing again, and he and I both stare at my father.
“Wait,” T says. “Really?”
My father lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You think I want people knowing that their Senator's son—North Carolina's best high school quarterback in two decades—has been on his knees for the school's basketball captain?”
I hang my head, my stomach churning.
“You're going to leave now, Terrell,” my father continues, “and not a word of this will get out.”
T moves to leave, but my father stops him, grabbing his arm as he tries to pass. “But you're never stepping foot in this house again,” he says, low and dangerously. “And if I catch you two anywhere near each other, you're not going to like what happens. You have no idea the power and resources my position wields. I will ruin you, understood?”
He releases T's arm, and T nods and walks out without giving me a second glance.
When the front door slams shut, my mother finally breaks her silence. She starts crying hysterically, screaming at me, “How could you?!” and “You could have destroyed us!” At some point in her screaming, she takes her high heel off and starts hitting me with it.
I shield my face and head with my arms, the blows stinging through the fabric of my shirt.
In the middle of my mother’s breakdown, my older sister, Cricket, runs into the room, having heard the commotion.“Mom, what are you doing?!” she yells, and pulls our mother back, then takes the shoes from her.
My father leers at me, hate rolling off him in waves. “See what you've done?”
I don't respond. What can I say?
“What's going on?” Cricket demands. “Ryan, are you okay?”
My father scoffs. “He's fine. Hopefully he didn't break a nail. Take your mother to the kitchen.”
Cricket nods but gives me a look, silently asking if I want her to stay. I give her a timid smile and nod for her to go.
When the bedroom door closes, my dad leans down and roughly taps my cheek. “Your mother and I have worked very hard for our standing in this community.”
I look in my lap and nod.
He continues, “If I ever catch you, or even hear about you, doing that vile shit ever again, I will destroy your life before you can destroy ours.”
Then my father turns and leaves.
Four
Connected
Spencer
I’m halfway through reviewing a merger agreement on my phone when the cute twink behind the counter at Tom’s Diner catches my eye as he gives a white takeout bag a little shake.
I look up from my phone and he grins. “Egg white and turkey sausage on an everything bagel, and a black coffee.”
