"Mom? Dad? I have something important to tell you." My heart in my chest hammered so hard I was sure I was vibrating. I inspected my hand. I seemed to be pretty still. I stared back into the pair of brown eyes across from me.

"I'm gay," I confessed, closing my eyes. My skin prickled and my stomach twisted.

"Great. Now all you're missing are your parents," Alyssa, my sister, laughed from across the room, laying on my bed. I opened my eyes, gazing back into my brown ones. I noticed I was biting my lip again.

"Shut up," I spat, trying to ward off the sick feeling in my stomach.

"It's almost the end of June. What happened to your 'big plan'?" She asked. I remembered. Begining of June. It was four in the morning. I was drunk on sneaking back from Pride and sleeplessness. I made a deal to come out to our parents by the end of June, Pride Month, figuring it was symbolic of something. It was June 29, at approximately 3:30 pm.

"I'll do it tomorrow. Last day. 'Uber symbolism," I lied. I had no intention of coming out tomorrow. Or ever for that matter. I had no idea how my parents would react. The LGBT+  community was a touchy subject in the house.

My backup plan was to live with Alyssa, who had just moved out three months ago. She had her guest bedroom ready just in case.

I flopped on my bed. Alyssa pouted at me.

"I'm not letting you out of this deal, Kyle."

***

My stuff rattled in my sisters back seat and the road hummed beneath us. Not even the radio dared to break the silence. I replayed the moment in my head for the billionth time.

An awkward silence. My dad storms out of the room. My mother cries silently. A rule. 24 hours to move my stuff. Anything left goes to charity.

Tears ran down my face. They blurred the streetlights floating outside my window. I let out a muffled sob. The car swerves into the shoulder. The ignition cuts. I look up.

I hear my sister's buckle click out of place. I try to contain the tears, but as she envelopes me in a hug, they come streaming down my face with a cluster of pathetic sobs.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Listen to me. You're fine. Our parents are dicks anyways. If they think you're-" she hesitated. I filled the blanks for her, remembering what they had called me. Unnatural, a monstrosity, sinful, wrong, faggot. She held me tighter as if she knew what I was thinking.

"If they think you're anything less than amazing, then they are crazy," Alyssa finished. I grabbed the sleeve of her sweater. It was soft and slightly damp. I smiled. Salty tears dripped into my mouth.

"Our parents are totally dicks," I laughed through sobs. Alyssa laughed. I felt her tears plop on my forehead.

***

I squeezed Michaels hand tighter as I rang the doorbell of my parents home. The left window still had a spiderweb crack from where I had busted my head on it. There was a long scratch in keyhole from when Alyssa came home wasted and couldn't get her key in the door. The same chipped stone pots held new succulents.

It was almost overwhelming. The only thing keeping me from sprinting back to the car and high tailing my ass out of there was Michael, who was winding his fingers through mine. I could feel my heart slowing down.

The door swung open with which force that I thought it would pop off the hinges. The two people standing in the door were all too familiar. My parents. Except my mother had grays in her naturally black hair.

My mother clasped her hands around her mouth, tears clouded her eyes. I smiled apprehensively, trying to avoid looking at my dad.

"Kyle, baby," She reached her hands out for my face. I instinctively flinched. She pulled back. Michael gripped my hand tighter.

I opened my mouth, staring at my shoes. They were scuffed and old converse that were once white.

"I- I wanted to tell you that I'm graduating from college in a month. I was wondering if you would consider- if you guys would like to- want to maybe come?" I stuttered.

I glanced up at Michael, who smiled like the sun as he extended two papers to my parents. Invitations. The only two I made. I just asked everyone else. I figured my parents would appreciate the formality.

My mother graciously took them. I made the mistake of looking at my dad, who had his hands on my mother's shoulders. He was tense and rigid like he was when he was mad or anxious. I winced at the connection. He was glaring at Michael.

"I'm sure we can consider it, right Bob?" My mother asked. The way she said it was too robotic, like how she talked to the people on the phone and then bad mouthed them to us. My dad glared at Michael, then at me.

"So who is this? Another fag?" My dad asked. I winced at the slur, hoping Michael wasn't insulted or angry. Michaels smile faltered for a second, only for it to get bigger.

"Michael. Michael Andrews," He said, untangling our hands to extend his. My mother hesitantly exempted. My dad stood still. Michael put emphasis in grabbing my hand, intertwining our fingers, and smiling at me like a lovesick puppy. My breathing hitched. My dad glared at us.

I quickly stepped off the raised porch. "It was good to see you." I forced a smile, tugging Michael behind me. I resisted the urge to sprint into the passenger seat of the car. Michael seemed to sense my urgency as he quickly started the ignition and hurtled off to the stop sign.

***

Michael squeezed my hand as we surveyed the array of happy partygoers, all dressed formally, smiling at us.

"I'm sorry that they didn't show," He apologized. I shook my head, trying to distract myself from the pit in my stomach.

"What are you sorry for? They decided not to come to our wedding. Or my graduations," I said, not feeling any better.

"Yeah. What dicks." Alyssa waltzed over to us as she sipped champagne. Michael nodded. I smiled. At least I had them. The two most important people in my life. And that made me feel a lot better.

A/N: Just wanted to say Happy Pride Month. I came out to my family and I am so lucky to have parents who understand and accept me as who I am. Its great to know that they'll always have my back and love me no matter what. It's terrible that some people don't have that. I hope that one day no one will have to fear that they will be discriminated against based on who they are. That's what Pride is all about. Being you and being proud.