(Brendon)

We managed the fully avoid our parent the entire Sunday. I third wheeled around with Pete and Mr. Stump the entire day. We didn't get back into the house until one am. And they were sound asleep.

But now it's Monday and I know we'll have to see them downstairs when we leave for school. I haven't stopped shaking since I woke up. I don't even know what to expect from then. Anger. Embarrassment. Indifference. Worry. Annoyance. Sadness. Or, and this is the one that would kill me, disappointment. Especially from my father.

I couldn't even talk to Ryan about it. I hadn't spoken to him either. It took me almost breaking down in tears to stop Pete from going to his house and beating the crap out of him. Yeah, him hitting me for entirely no reason wasn't fair. Okay! Maybe I provoked him a little bit. But that didn't mean he had to punch me!  Still, I loved him and didn't want him getting hurt.

So I cried and told Pete I'd rather he not get involved. And now he didn't want me anywhere near Ryan. Which was understandable. I had no idea if he'd called or texted me to apologize either because my mother still had my phone.

"Ready?" Pete popped his head in my doorway.

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. It was 7:59. We were actually on time.

"Yeah."

I stood up and followed Pete down the stairs. Of course I was going to let him go first. He could handle things better than I could. He had tougher skin.

Our mother and father were both sitting beside each other at the empty breakfast table. There was no apron on my mother and there was no paper in my father's hand. All attention was on us. So much for that indifference I was hoping for.

"Boys." Mother's hard voice sent fearful chills through me. "Come sit."

"Actually," Pete pointed to the door. "We were just headed to-"

"Now!" My father's demanding tone was nothing to be messed around with.

We grudgingly headed towards the table. Taking the empty seats across from them. Pete across from our dad , Me across from our mom. Pete looked my father directly in the eyes. I, on the other hand, stared down at my thighs.

"What you two did in church yesterday was completely embarrassing and totally unacceptable."

****

(Pete)

I almost rolled my eyes.

Of course what we did is what was seen as unacceptable. But those idiot in that mind controlling church trying to scare the gay out of young, impressionable people is fine? Such fucking bullshit!

"Do you know what people must think of our family?" It was dad's turn to share his asshole opinion. "They think we've raised a house full of... Of.." He loosened his tie around his neck.

"Say it." I snapped. "Say the word, dad. Homosexuals!"

"I was going to say faggots." He glared at me. "But your word works too."

"This is fucking stupid!" I muttered. Brendon's gaze snapped to me in shock.

"Pete. No."

"Brendon, yes." I shook my head. "You and I both know what's going to come from the little talk. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They're going to keep hating gays and we're going to keep being them!"

"So you admit you're.... gay." I hate the way she said the word. Like it was something secret.

"Yes mother." I stood up from the chair. Raising my hands flamboyantly just to get under their skin. "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it!"

Brendon giggled and all eyes turned to him.

"And you, son?" My father put extra emphasis on the word son when he spoke to Brendon. As if I were no longer just that to him. And that kind of hurt a little. "Are you a gay as well?"

Brendon stopped laughing immediately. He looked into out father's gaze. The gaze that was practically begging him to say no. And then he glanced at my mothers tearful gaze. A gaze also begging him to deny a part of himself. Lastly, he looked into my eyes. I don't know what my eyes looked like or what that might be telling him. But I wanted him to be honest. To have my back like I'd had his.

"Brendon!" My mother pulled his chin towards her. Making him face them again. "Please tell your father you're still our good little boy." Her sad eyes bored into Brendon's large ones. "Please."

"I'm still your good little boy." Brendon whispered.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Fine. I guess I was on my own with this one. I knew I shouldn't have expected him to back me on this. He cared more about their opinions than anything else.

"Oh Brendon!" The relief on my mother's face made me sick.

He placed his hands over our mother's hand that was still holding his chin. His chin lifted slightly.

"Your good little, gay boy."