Page 143 of Fight or Flight
“Thank you for telling me, sweetie.” She pauses. “I hope you already know this, but there’s nothing you could ever say or do that would make me love you any less. I love you just as much now as I did five minutes ago.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I let my head fall back against my pillow. “I did know that, but it’s nice to hear it again after dropping a bombshell like that.” My chest tightens. “Does Dad feel the same way about this kind of thing?” I ask, and I hate how small my voice sounds.
I’m not as close with my dad as I am with my mom, but we’re still a tight-knit family, even if we don’t always see eye to eye on things.
As far as I know, my dad is open-minded and has never come across as homophobic or anything like that, but it’s easy to support a community when it doesn’t affect your life in any way. The thought that my dad might not be able to look at me the same way is terrifying.
“Yes,” she says quickly. “Your dad and I are both in agreement that we don’t care who you love as long as they treat you with respect and make you happy. Male, female, none of that matters as long as you’re happy.”
All of the fear and worry I’ve been carrying over coming out to my parents melts away, and I feel ten pounds lighter as I let out a long, slow breath. “Thanks, that’s really good to hear.”
“Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”
“Yes and no.” I huff out a laugh. “Yes, because I feel like I’m going crazy, but also no, because this whole situationiscrazy.”
“I’m here to listen if you think talking about it will help.”
“It can’t really hurt at this point,” I muse. “This whole thing is complicated and messy, and I don’t even know how to start this conversation.”
She stays quiet while I gather my thoughts.
“So, I kind of have this thing going on with one of the guys in the house.”
“Oh,” she says. “Now I understand why you said things are messy and complicated.”
“Oh, that’s not the messy part,” I tell her. “But wait, there’s more!” I say in my best infomercial voice. “I couldn’t even stand him for the past two and a half years, like legit couldn’t spend more than a few minutes in the same room with him without it turning into a fight of some sort, and now I kinda like him.”
“Two and a half years…”
I can practically hear the gears grinding as she pieces things together.
“Do you mean Jace Hawthorne?” she asks carefully.
Being part of a group like the Rebels is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because of the obvious advantages it gives me, and it’s basically a golden ticket into the most exclusive circles in both the social and business worlds. But it also means that my parents don’t just know all of my housemates; they also know their parents, and they have for years.
“Yup.”
“One of the boys you have to share the leadership with next year,” she says slowly.
“Yup,” I say again.
“Oh my. Thatismessy.”
“Yup.” I let out a weary sigh.
“And you like him?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I rake my hand through my hair and lean back on my pillows. “He’s aggravating and annoying and knows exactly how to piss me off, but he’s also interesting and unpredictable and knows how to work me up in a different way.” I grimace. “Sorry if that was TMI.”
“It’s not,” she says lightly. “You’re an adult, and it’s not TMI when you’re talking about girls, so it’s not TMI with guys, either.”
“Yeah, I’m still getting used to the whole he’s a guy thing,” I say. She doesn’t need to know that it’s not so much that he has a dick that’s tripping me up, it’s the fighting and dirty talk and the way he can so easily turn me into a desperate, whimpering mess that’s fucking with me.
“So things aren’t serious with him?”
“No, they’re not really anything. Just hooking up.”
“Do you want there to be something between you?”
