This isn’t forever, Connor, I remind myself.
I have time to change her mind.
Finally, I’m alone in my room. My charger slips in, and after thirty eternal seconds, my phone wakes from its coma. This oasis of privacy. I haven’t felt private in weeks (lonely isn’t the same as private). In my bottom desk drawer, an overlarge SAT prep book rests where my Nintendo Switch used to be. A sticky note on top reads:
“Switch” to this instead.
My life is one big crime scene. Mom helps herself to my room, my phone, and my gaming shit any time she wants so she can hunt for evidence that yeah—I’m not the son she thought I was.
A barrage of texts pop like fireworks on my phone’s display, but I assemble my backpack before checking them—before I have the chance to talk myself out of this. I stuff a raggedy JanSport with T-shirts and socks until it’s bursting. The gym shorts I have on will be enough to last me the summer, pants-wise. I can go weeks wearing these puppies. And that’s everything. Mom still has my laptop, so I don’t need anything else but my bike outside to take me to Ario’s. I’ll wait until she’s asleep and be gone before I ever have to hear the words Get out of my house.
I put on Kacey Musgraves. “High Horse” is a good bop; if I play “Space Cowboy” or any of her slower stuff, I’ll break like an egg yolk. Downstairs, Mom sings along—flatly—to Karen Carpenter while she washes the dishes, and I crank Ms. Musgraves up to my phone’s maximum volume. A cool night breeze flies in my open window, but still, I flick on the oscillating fan attached to the windowsill. When I get worked up like this, I overheat. I peel off my sleeveless hoodie, curl next to my wall charger, and let the coarse carpet fibers give me a back rub while I text my traitorous cousin Gina:
ur a goddamn snitch
ur baby’s ugly
A job well done, I block Gina’s number and her accounts everywhere on social media. Knowing her, she’ll create a fake account to follow me, so I set myself to private. Next comes the real business. I send identical, separate texts to Ario and Vicky: Got back my phone finally.
The “I’m typing” bubbles appear instantly.
Ario: omg are you okay???
Me: I’m so wiped out. I miss you.
Ario: I miss you! Did she hurt you?
Me: What? No she doesn’t do that. She’s just, like, mean, I guess.
Ario:
sorry hang on, my gd sister won’t leave me alone brb
Me: Okay! No worries!
All the worries.
I want to tell Ario I’ve already packed a bag to run away to his place, but that plan is already curdling. Am I really going to run away for my whole senior year? Is it even legal for the Navissis to take me in? What if his mom ends up saying no? She would never. But if she says yes, what do I do about school? Ario and I go to different ones, but his is a lot nicer. Maybe I could switch to his school—he’s out there and totally popular. He’s always hanging out with, like, a million people! Nobody gives him shit. He graduated last month, so we couldn’t be open, cutesy boyfriends who kiss in the hallways between classes, but at least I’d have an easier time of it over there.
Ario lives in White Eagle, a much nicer town fifteen miles away that has actual civilization like movie theaters and bookstores. We met at his local bookstore; he marched right up to me while I was huddled in the LGBTQ section like a frightened cat. This beautiful older boy with dimples and the smoothest skin introduced himself, but all I could do was sweat like he’d caught me shoplifting. He noticed how freaked out I was, both to be spotted in that section and to be approached by someone so…magnetic. He asked for my number, and in my shock, I couldn’t remember the whole thing (was it 4731 or 3471?). He took my phone gently, his fingers briefly grazing across mine, and made a new contact for himself under “Ario Bookstore Cutie” (which I renamed to “Ario Bookstore” to deter any investigations from my spying mother).
When I met Ario, it felt like a longstanding curse was finally breaking. My life was going to be a dreamy gay teen movie, just like it was always supposed to be. That never happened. Ario brought light into my life, but it only made the shadows stronger. Navigating around my mom, the Reverend, school, Vicky, her baby drama, the physical distance of simply getting to Ario…these obstacles didn’t make my new relationship exciting. They robbed me of energy and joy at every possible turn.
That’s when Ario thought me coming out would be the solution. It wasn’t.
What is it that’s so wrong with me? It’s like the whole entire universe is telling me I don’t deserve a boyfriend. Pretty soon, these obstacles will get worse. Ario and I don’t have much IRL time left—next month, he’s leaving for college in Chicago. A three-hour drive away.
Finally, my phone vibrates with Vicky’s response: Hi!! Sorry, I was napping. My mom was giving me a break from Avery. Are you okay??
Me: I’m sorry! Go back to your nap—I’m fine. You never get to sleep.
Vicky: Stop it, I’m up. This heat is totally wretched!
Me: My mom’s convinced herself that I’m Avery’s dad and that I’m ditching you—she’s totally projecting her shit with my dad.
Vicky: Oh God.
Vicky sends a Real Housewives GIF of Bethenny Frankel rolling her eyes.
Vicky: You didn’t tell her about Avery’s dad, did you?
Me: Of course not.
Vicky: Because I know how she gets. It would be ok if you had to tell her to shut her up.
Me: Vicky, stop, I swear I would never tell anyone for any reason.
Vicky: Thank you. I’m sorry. I know it would be easier on you if she knew the truth.
The thing is, it would. We both know who the real father is: when Vicky and I were together, she “cheated” on me (although I was fully neglecting her, so who cares?) with Derrick, her supervisor at the AMC theater in White Eagle. Derrick is twenty-three and she is hardcore in love with him. Even after he suddenly left town, leaving her to give birth alone, she didn’t tell anybody. Her dad would have Derrick arrested. She refuses to do that. She truly believes Derrick is going to have a change of heart and come back any minute.
I want to scream that she’s D-E-L-U-D-E-D and Derrick deserves everything that’s coming to him, but it wouldn’t reach her. All it would do is alienate me from my only ally in Ambrose. I’m the only one Vicky trusted with the truth. Unfortunately for me, I was dating Vicky when she got pregnant, so the longer this mystery goes on, the more I look like the Big Gay Deadbeat.
Me: Maybe everything would be easier if we got back together. People would leave me alone, and you’d have help…
Vicky: lol what about Ario?