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    Drew Payne
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Case Studies in Modern Life - 18. It's Time

This story contains adult language, language that these characters would naturally use.

It was Tuesday night and I knew she would be home, no chance of her being asked to do any overtime because the pub was always dead on Tuesday nights. Also, Ed, the first decent fella she’d had in ages, was on nights this week. I’d spent that day at work building up my courage to do it, but I had to; I couldn’t put it off any more. Ryan was wanting me to stay over at his flat, for us to spend the whole night together, not for me to leave before midnight, and if I didn’t tell Anne-Marie… I didn’t know what I’d tell her.

For years, five years now after Dad went into hospital and never came out, it was just me and Anne-Marie. I had been five when our mum upped and walked out. Dad did what he always did; he got pissed to drown his sorrows in his booze. That left Anne-Marie, at thirteen, to look after me and our council flat. That’s what we did. Anne-Marie looked after us while Dad got pissed every day. Then, when I was twelve, Dad collapsed in the street, dead drunk; but instead of leaving him there to sleep it off someone called an ambulance. In hospital the doctors said Dad had “Alcohol Related Dementia” (being pissed all the time had fucked his brain) and that they wanted to keep him in there – he was put on different wards, but he’s never returned home.

When we had got home, after leaving Dad in hospital that first time, I’d cried like a little baby, begging Anne-Marie for me not to end-up in a kids’ home or for the Social Workers to get hold of me. With a hug she’d told me that wouldn’t ever happen, and she was right. Over the next years she’d been the one to look after me, she’d gone to my school for every Parents’ Evenings, she’d dealt with Social Services and a nosy GP, she’d even fogged off Mrs. O'Sullivan, our nosy neighbor, God knows how many times. She’d done everything she could to keep us together, and she’d done it. Anne-Marie had given me the best childhood, and I loved her for it.

Now, at seventeen, I’d met my first boyfriend, Ryan, and I had to tell Anne-Marie. I’d worried stupid all day, what she’d say, would she be angry or hurt or cry, would she want me out of the flat. I didn’t know what she’d do, and that was the worst. I’d got really good at keeping quiet about being gay at school, I had to for my own survival, and now being open about it was hard, but I had to start.

That evening I walked into our sitting room and found Anne-Marie, in her old leggings and t-shirt, on the sofa and watching The Street on the telly. I went up to the sofa and sat down next to her. For ages we sat there in silence. I didn’t know what to say.

After an age, Anne-Marie said: “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“I know you, what’s up?”

I took this deep breath and said: “I’m gay.”

“That’s what’s been eating you up and putting a face on you?”

“Yeah,” I said. She was smiling at me. “I didn’t know what you’d do, if you’d be angry or what.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid!” she said. “I’d never do that, we’re family. Anyway, I’ve known you’re gay for ages.”

“What?” That was unfair, she’d known all along and not said anything, she let me get all worked up all day. “You knew all along; why didn’t you say nothing?”

“’Cause I didn’t have the right. I had to wait for you. You don’t go dragging someone out of the closet; I’m no fucking Christian. I had to give you time to be ready. Now you are and you have, and I’m glad.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t look so surprised, there was no way I’d have a problem with it. I’ve been mates with Calum Jones for years, and he’s gayer than that Graham Norton. Anyway, it’s another reason why you’re not like Dad, and that’s a fucking good thing.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You and Ryan are boyfriends, right?”

“How do you know?” I thought I’d been careful about that too.

“It’s fucking obvious, the way you two are so happy together and the way you’re always going on about him. I’m not stupid. Anyway, he can stay over whenever you want; there’s no problem about that either.”

“I was going to stay over at his place, but he can stay here as well, once here and once there. Thanks.”

“Just as long as you tell me when you’re staying at his so I don’t worry.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said and smiled back at her. She was the best.

A big thank you to Brian Holiday (brian_holliday@charter.net) for his excellent editing and proofreading of this story
Copyright © 2018 Drew Payne; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

1 hour ago, Timothy M. said:

If you're close with your sibling(s), that can make up for a lot of hurt and worry.

I wanted to write something about positive family relationships, writing against type because I usually write about screwed-up families, and middle class ones as well.

I wish I'd had a sister like Anne-Marie. With her on his side, this narrator has something deeply positive in his life.

  • Like 2
13 hours ago, JeffreyL said:

You have written a great little moment in the narrator's life. I liked the character right away. And you did a wonderful job writing the dialogue between his sister and he! Well done! Thanks.

Thank you for the feedback. This was what I wanted to achieve, but I wanted it to be a positive story.

I love writing dialogue. I started writing, back in my teens, sketches and short plays, and went on a crash course on how to write realistic dialogue that moves the plot forward (And God it wasn't easy). But the best lessen I learnt was listening to other people, and public transport is such a great opportunity to listen and a wonderful source of material.

This reminds me of a TV piece shown in the US.  College son home on break tells his parents he is gay. 

Parents: "we've known that since you were a sophomore" 

Son: "you knew last year!!??"

Parents: "oh no, since you were a sophomore in high school"

Wish I had those parents!

Also, thanks for a feel-good story.

 

 

 

Edited by LD Stratton
  • Like 1
1 hour ago, LD Stratton said:

This reminds me of a TV piece shown in the US.  College son home on break tells his parents he is gay. 

Parents: "we've known that since you were a sophomore" 

Son: "you knew last year!!??"

Parents: "oh no, since you were a sophomore in high school"

Wish I had those parents!

Also, thanks for a feel-good story.

 

 

 

At some point I have to had write a positive story. I'm always getting accessed of writing depressing ones, and I'm not that innocent of that.

I also wanted to subvert the Coming-Out-To-Family story a bit here. So I made the narrator working class and gave him created-family instead of a nuclear-family, the sister who really cared for him. I am fascinated by the relationships we make over the ones we're born into.

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