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My insides get all twisty at the thought, and I squeeze the edge of the itchy blanket in my hand.
“But Waylon,” Mom says on another sob. “We can’t leave him.”
“No, we can’t,” Dad says softly, and I frown.
What about Mason? I think. We can’t leave him either. He’d have Waylon still, sure, but…
I burrow in the blanket, trying not to sniffle too loudly.
This is all my fault.
“Plus,” Dad says gruffly after a moment. “We don’t even know if Jeremy is…you know.”
Frowning, I peek out over my blankets.
“You mean gay?” Mom says in a tone I can’t place. She almost sounds…mad, but not. Like she’s trying to make a joke. ’cept no one’s laughing.
A throat clears.
“Ray.”
No response.
“You’ll be okay with it if he is, right?”
Gay.
That’s a bad word, Mom, is all I can think, as memories of getting that word spit at me at school replay through my head, making my chest feel all tight.
“Of course I will,” Dad says almost angrily. “He’s our son.”
The tightness moves up my throat, making my jaw wobble.
More sniffles, then, “I don’t want this for him.”
“Eva…”
“I just want him safe and happy and whole, and-and?—”
“He’s going to be fine. You heard the doctor.”
“Yeah, physically.” She scoffs. “For fuck’s sake, Ray, he asked me what the word faggot meant when he was six years old. Six, Ray. Six. Why didn’t I…why didn’t we…”
The curtain blurs, and everything feels too hot and tight.
“He’ll be homeschooled. We’ll get him a new therapist who knows what the hell they’re doing. He’s…he’s going to survive this. That kid’s stronger than I think a lot of us give him credit for. Hell, he kept all this inside for months.”
“And it could’ve killed him!” Mom explodes in a loud whisper. It reminds me of my sister. I wish she was here. She’d handle this.
She’d hate me so much if we moved because of me. I need to say something. Tell them I want to stay. But when I try to get my body to move, or my voice to work, nothing happens.
Dad’s shushing Mom, and saying things I can’t make out. It’s a while before I can actually hear anything else.
“I just…I hoped as he got older…”
“Eva,” Dad sighs.
“I love him just the way he is. Please don’t think I—” Her voice hitches.
