Thicker Than Water - 4. Chapter 4

Diego made spaghetti and meatballs. Bryan and Kenny sat next to each other, while Steve and Diego flanked them, with Caleb on the opposite side. Bryan could feel his ears burn as he thought back to his make out session with Kenny a few minutes before. Both teens kept their eyes on their plates. Bryan was painfully aware that Diego was looking his way.

“So Kenny,” Diego said, with a hint of playfulness in his voice, “How was school?”

“Good,” Kenny said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Bryan began to eat a little faster.

“That's good. I'm glad you had a good day. How was your homework? Math right?”

Bryan looked up at his father and saw the tiny smile playing at the corners of the man's lips. No, he couldn't know, Bryan thought, could he?

“Yes, Sir,” Kenny said, stuffing his mouth with a meatball, hoping to avoid any further questions.

“Math can be difficult, can't it? I know Bryan here has struggled with math in the past. He was helping you with your homework, right?”

Kenny nodded without removing his eyes from his food.

“Diego,” Steve said, “leave the poor boy alone.” Steve also had a small grin as he tried warding off his boyfriend.

“What?” Diego asked, playfully. “Can't I talk to Kenny about his day and schooling?”

Steve gave Diego a knowing look that plainly said he wasn't buying it; however, he returned to his food without any further comment.

“Well,” Diego said to Kenny once more, “Was Bryan any help with your homework?”

Kenny didn't want to lie to Mr. Padilla, but he was feeling very embarrassed and wanted the conversation to stop. Like most teens, Kenny gave a shrug for a response believing that it should convey everything.

“Chico, are you okay?” Diego asked, squinting a little at his son.

“Yeah,” Bryan said, not liking the spotlight being turned on him. “Why?”

“Well, you've been awfully quiet, which isn't like you at all; plus, I was under the impression that you were the only one who threw hands in that fight.”

“You got into another fight?” Caleb interjected. “Really? On the first day!”

“Seriously,” Bryan said, staring at his brother. “Not you, too. This is turning into a running gag.” He looked at his father, who had a smirk on his face, and said, “Yeah, I was the only one who threw any punches. Why do you ask?”

“I just find it odd is all.”

“You find it odd that Dan Thomas is too slow to hit back?”

“No, Chico. I find it odd that you have a fresh bruise on your neck that you didn't have this morning when you left, yet there it is.” Diego's smile widened as he touched his son's neck.

Bryan and Kenny both turned very red. Caleb, on the other hand, laughed and declared in a sing-song voice, “Bryan's got a hickey! Bryan's got a hickey!”

“That's enough, Mijo,” Diego said to his youngest child. To his eldest, Diego asked, “Is there something you two would like to share with the group?”

“Oh my God,” Bryan said, trying to force down the smile fighting its way across his lips. “Are we really doing this right now?”

“I mean, you're not obligated to say anything about what caused this blemish on your neck. I'm sure there's a very reasonable excuse for it. I just don't see what the fuss is all about.” Diego laid the bate, took a sip of his wine and waited for his son to bite.

“You don't see what all the 'fuss' is about? Seriously? You pretty much tortured Kenny with your interrogation like you were Homeland Security. Even Steve knew what you were up to.”

“Hey,” Steve said, only half offended. “I'm smarter than you give me credit for.”

“Sure, whatever,” Bryan said, dismissively, prompting Diego and Steve to share a look of shock and indignation. “My point is, if there was no fuss to be had, then why, my loving, accepting father, are you making a fuss to begin with? What Kenny and I do together isn't anyone's business.”

“Gaslighting isn't much fun when you're on the opposite side, isn't it, Chico?”

“What are you talking about?” Bryan asked, genuinely confused.

“You're not the only one with jokes.” Diego said with a wink. Still confused, Bryan looked at Kenny, who was also confused. Diego laughed and said, “You don't have a hickey, Chico, but if there's anything you'd like to talk about, everyone here at this table loves you very much.”

Bryan scoffed, still grinning, and said, “May we be excused? You know what?! I think I'll just excuse myself. Yeah, yeah, I think I'm old enough to start doing that, don't you, Dad?”

“By all means, Chico,” Diego said, holding his hands up “You and Kenny are old enough to do what you want together.”

“Thank you, father. You're very generous.” Bryan got up and cleared his plate from the table. He looked at Kenny was still sitting. “Are you coming?”

“I'm not done eating,” Kenny said, looking between his friend and his food.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise,” Caleb teased, causing the adults to burst out laughing.

Bryan pointed a finger at his brother and left the room and everyone was laughing. Kenny came into the room a little while later with instructions to leave the bedroom door open. Neither talked about the conversation at dinner, as they were still embarrassed by it.

Having been raised in the Padilla household pretty much all his life, Bryan was used to the good natured ribbing and teasing. Everyone in Diego's family made fun of each other, and it was a rule that if you dish it out, you better be able to take it, too. Nothing was ever said to be offensive, though for an outsider, it could seem very mean spirited at times. When push came to shove, though, if you were a Padilla and someone messed with you, the entire family had your back. Thankfully, Kenny had been around Bryan and his family enough to know that Diego wasn't trying to hurt him, and the man considered Kenny part of the family.

Bryan helped Kenny finish the rest of his homework and worked on his own before Diego drove the boy home. Bryan wanted to go along, but his dad reminded Bryan of the chores he had to do, which included cleaning the kitchen and dishes. As with most punishments, everything had to be done by hand with no short cuts, so Bryan had to wash all the dishes by hand, despite having a dishwasher.

Steve, wanting to come off as a good cop in the situation, offered to help, but Bryan refused. Not only was he not interested in spending quality time with the guy, he knew that if Diego caught him accepting help, his punishments would only get worse. Diego didn't accept short cuts as part of his lessons. Diego's parents raised their son well, and Diego was determined that his boys had the same sense of morals and self-worth.

The kitchen and dishes were clean by the time Diego got home. He was proud of his son for not taking Steve up on his offer. He and his boyfriend decided to test Bryan's resolve with the offer of help. The pair sat on the couch, curled in each other's arms. Bryan sat on the love seat, while Caleb sat in his dad's armchair. They watched an old movie called Pan's Labyrinth. The subtitles were put on for Steve's sake, as Diego raised the boys to be bilingual in English and Spanish.

The previous year, at a parent/teacher conference, Diego and Mr. Martel were both shocked that Bryan had taken Beginning Spanish as an elective. With Bryan being white, Mr. Martel didn't think anything of it, except the kid's last name, but Bryan said it was an old family name and wanted to “explore his roots.” Everything started to make sense when Mr. Martel met Diego, who was clearly Hispanic.

“Beginning Spanish. Really, Chico?” Diego said to his son, as they left the classroom.

“What? I needed an elective, so I picked the easiest one,” Bryan said, his voice breaking.

“You speak fluent Spanish. You speak it better than your teacher who sounds like Peggy Hill.”

“I know; it's awful.”

“What I don't get is why you're only getting a B in the class.”

“B+,” Bryan clarified. “It should be higher, but he thinks I'm mispronouncing everything.”

The memory of that day almost a year ago made Bryan smile. He didn't remember much about life before Diego, but he knew he wasn't ever as happy.

At bedtime, Diego opened Bryan's door and poked his head in. “Hey. Caleb is needing another personal day, so you're stuck babysitting tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Bryan said, as he began to think of things to do with his brother.

“Also, I wanted to give you this.” Diego walked up to his son and handed him a small wrapped box. Bryan looked confused yet excited. He pulled off the paper and gasped. It was a cell phone. “I wanted to give it to you earlier, but you got into that fight. I debated whether or not you should have it, but since I already paid for it, you might as well.”

“Thanks Dad.” Bryan stood and hugged his dad. “I promise not to lose or break it.”

“You better not do either. I'm not buying you another one, so you better make that last till you get a job. Anyway, it's been activated, and has a bunch of numbers already on it. It's a smart phone, so you can technically download social media; however,” Diego said, emphasizing the last word, “you can only have Facebook, only send or accept friend requests from people you know—and I mean it—and I will set up your password, which you are never allowed to change. If I find out you've changed the passwords to any account you have or you create an account behind my back, not only will I take back the phone, you also won't be able to own a phone, tablet or computer till you turn 18. Got it?”

“Got it,” Bryan said. “It's not like I have a lot of friends on Facebook or whatever.”

“You'd be surprised who will find you,” Diego said, all mirth leaving his voice. “Anyway, you can create a Facebook account tomorrow when I get home. Until then, texting only.”

“Alright. I promise.”

“I love you, Chico.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

They hugged one more time, before Diego left, closing the door behind him. Bryan opened his phone and began to download a few games, making sure to avoid the social media apps he was really interested in. Some of his friends, like Kenny, already had Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat. Diego refused to let his boys have them, seeing the harm they could cause, so the fact that his dad was allowing it to happen, showed how much Diego trusted Bryan to make good choices.

Before he went to sleep, Bryan pulled out his journal and began to write about his day. He mentioned everything except two things: His mother and his feelings for Kenny. Every time he got close to divulging his innermost feelings, anxiety kicked in driving his thoughts elsewhere.

When it came to his mother, he knew how he honestly felt, but he couldn't bring himself to put it into words, written or otherwise. There were years worth of hurt and pain that couldn't simply be summed up in a few paragraphs. Resentment didn't even begin to scratch the surface of his feelings for the woman who gave birth to him but chose drugs over her own kids.

Kenny was another matter altogether. What he told Kenny was the truth...but it was also a lie. He remembered that day they first kissed, and yes, he was the one who initiated it. Bryan had feelings for his friend that he couldn't explain, and wanted to see what it was like to kiss a boy. After the kiss, however, those feelings died down, so he chalked it up to childish curiosity. Since Kenny never brought it up, Bryan assumed it was the same for his friend. Then Kenny wanted to talk about it.

Bryan didn't want to lose Kenny, but he didn't want to lead him on either. That was the sort of thing his sperm donor would've done, according to his dead mother and Diego. Calvin Donaldson was a user of people, and it was something Bryan Padilla wasn't willing to do.

So, why kiss Kenny again? More than once, even? Bryan asked himself. He had no clue. The first time earlier in the day was to get Kenny to shut up, and the last time was to distract himself from the pain he was starting to feel. So, I did use him, Bryan thought, feeling ashamed of himself. Maybe I am like my birth father, after all.