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Second Shot - 23. Chapter 23: New Classes
Focused on the email he was reading, Jason absently opened the door to Peter’s apartment. More out of habit than any conscious thought, he turned the top lock before slipping the bag off his shoulder.
“That you, Jase?” Peter was in the kitchen, judging by the sound of his voice.
“Yeah, Pete.” He put the phone in his pocket. It was only then he realized what Peter said. “Who else has a key to your place?”
Peter appeared from around the corner. “Awful slow on the return there, Soccer Boy. You get hit in the head too many times today?”
“Huh?” He slipped his hands around Peter’s waist, getting a kiss for his efforts.
“Never mind.” Peter ran his hand through Jason’s hair. “Eh, reasonably clean, but I still need to do it right before we go to sleep.”
He took Jason’s hand, leading him toward the kitchen.
Jason smiled at the lame excuse to get him in the shower. Almost a year later Peter still pretended he needed a reason to get Jason naked. Moving closer he sniffed Peter’s neck. “Yeah, I will need to clean you up too.”
From there he kissed his way up Peter’s neck, ending at his lips. A few long kisses later, Jason had to adjust himself through his warm up pants.
“Keep that thought for later.” Peter whispered. Jason noted he was not the only one aroused.
Peter quickly turned to check on dinner, so Jason set the table. Putting everything in place, he smiled as Peter moved about the tiny kitchen. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Huh?” Peter turned toward him for an instant. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” He motioned for the table he just set. “It’s an incredible feeling to come over after practice knowing you’re making dinner.”
“Please.” Peter swatted the air with the wooden spoon in his hand. “If you only knew how much I love this. My idea of the perfect relationship includes cooking for my sweetie and us eating together. So to me, this is great.”
“Feels like my home when I come here.” He walked behind Peter, hugging him.
“As it should, it’s our home.” Peter pushed back before breaking the hold to check on dinner. “When you got here you were distracted by something.”
“Yeah, my mom.” Jason saw Peter’s shock. “She sent me some bizarre emails.”
“Your mom is emailing you? How long has this been going on?”
“Started this morning.”
“What did she want?” Peter stopped cooking long enough to stare at Jason.
“She wanted to know if I was going to church.” His hand instinctively went for his phone.
“Church?” Peter raised both eyebrows. Shaking his head twice, he returned his focus to the pot of rice he was stirring.
“Yeah, I know.” Jason unlocked his phone. “Here, listen to this. ‘Jason, just wanted to see if you were going to Mass while you are at school.’ No signature, no ‘Love Mom,’ that was it. I sent back, ‘No.’”
“Short and sweet.”
Jason noted Peter was not laughing. Scrolling down, he opened the next email. “Exactly. I mean, what would make her send that email? But, it gets worse.”
“Worse?” Scooping the food into a bowl, he set it on the table next to Jason.
“After I sent back my verbose denial, she wrote back, ‘do you know where St. Francis’ Church is near campus?’ What makes this all the more bizarre is she knows I do. We went there a few times when they came for weekend visits. My response? ‘Yes.’ I am sure that pissed her off my, one word answers.”
“Are you trying to provoke her?” Peter set down the rest of their dinner before taking a seat.
“Not really, but what more is there to say?”
“True. Was that the last email?” He put food on Jason’s plate.
“No, I got the last one a minute before I got here. That’s the one I was reading when I let myself in.” Jason made a face before he could stop himself.
“Ah, so that’s the one that has you upset.” Finishing with the bowl of rice, Peter started on his food. “Jason, eat.”
“I will.” He queued up the last email. “This is her last email. ‘I would like you to start attending services at St. Francis’ on Sundays. Father Dennis is expecting you. He’s agreed to counsel you, once you are a member.’”
Suddenly he lost his appetite. Putting the phone away, he picked up his fork. Peter put too much effort into making their dinner for him not to eat.
“Did you answer her?”
“No, I’m going to ignore it.” Jason cut his chicken. After he took a bite, he noticed Peter staring at him. “What?”
“Ignoring her might not be a good idea.”
Jason laughed at the irony of Peter’s comment. “Maybe not, but for now, I want to eat dinner without thinking about her and her stupid request.”
“Fair enough.” Peter smiled, returning his attention to his food. “So how was soccer practice?”
Rubbing his still damp hair, Jason pulled out his text book. American Political Theory was not exactly his idea of fun, but it beat thinking about his mother’s bizarre request.
“Wow.” Peter stood in the doorway watching Jason in just a pair of boxers. “What happened to my boyfriend, you know, the one who hates to study?”
Jason felt blood rush to his groin. Damn Peter looked good standing there. Their just finished shower might as well not have happened, the effect Peter had on him.
“C’mon, that was the old Jason, the one before he met Mr. Wonderful.”
“Hey!” Peter sat next to him, pulling him close for a kiss. “Who’s this person that has you studying hard for him?”
Jason’s phone rang before he could answer.
“Whose ring is that?” Peter asked.
“My mother’s.” He turned the ringer off, growling at the phone as he did. Jason stuffed the phone in his bag.
“You’re not going to answer it?”
“What would be the point? She wants to talk about me going to church.” Jason knew his mother expected him to agree to her request. This was not a call he wanted to take, much less while at Peter’s.
“Do you think she’ll forget?” Peter stared at Jason in mock disbelief.
“Of course not.” Even he could hear the annoyance in his voice. “Christ, she doesn’t speak to me in eight months and when she does it’s to harass me. Why couldn’t she just continue to forget I exist?”
“C’mon, Jase, you don’t really mean that.” Peter reached out to rub his shoulder.
“Yes I do!” He got up; even Peter’s touch wasn’t helping. “This is not a, ‘how are you Jason’ call. You don’t know her. When my mom gets mad - and she is SO mad at me - she focuses on dealing with the cause of her anger. This little plan of hers, whatever it is, has been months in the making. All it’s going to do is make my life miserable.”
Staring out the window at the park, he saw Peter’s image reflected in the window. Two hands snaked around his waist, drawing him gently back. Jason took a deep breath and exhaled to calm himself; he refused to let his mother poison his relationship with Peter.
“Jase,” Peter whispered. He kissed the back of Jason’s neck twice.
“Sorry, Pete.” The feel of Peter’s body on his made him feel better. He grabbed the arms around him, grinding back against the warm torso pressed tight. “She’s not going to ruin our evening.”
“Keep that up and I could easily forget she even called.”
“What call?” Jason squirmed around, not breaking Peter’s hold. “Who was it?”
They managed one kiss before they both heard his phone vibrate in his bag.
“Fuck!” His anger erupted before he could stop himself. “Fine! I'll turn the fucking thing off.”
Peter let go as Jason moved toward his bag. Searching for his phone, he stopped when he saw the number on the screen. Rather than turn it off, he answered the call.
He mouthed Dean’s name to Peter, who rolled his eyes. “Yo Dean, what’s going on?”
“Mom's trying to reach you, bro.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m ignoring her. She wants me to start going to church.” Even telling Dean made him angry. Be calm, he reminded himself, no point taking this out on Dean any.
“No Jase, it’s much worse.” Dean’s voice was so serious Jason felt his dinner might come up.
“Worse?”
“She enrolled you in some ex-gay classes at that church.” Jason could barely hear his brother. No doubt he didn’t want their mother to know he was warning Jason.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” When he saw Peter’s face he realized he was shouting. “When did she do this?”
He shook off Peter’s questioning look, holding up a finger so he could hear his brother’s explanation.
“I don’t know when, but I heard her and dad arguing about it.”
Jason felt his chest tighten, forcing him to take short quick breaths. This was beyond crazy; his mother lost it if she thought he was going to some ex-gay classes.
“Thanks for the heads up, I appreciate it,” he finally said.
“You aren’t going to those, are you?” Dean’s concern touched Jason, but his continued whisper worried him.
“No fucking chance.” Jason couldn’t control his anger, even to speak to Dean. “Hey, you better go in case she hears you. And delete the call from your log. Mom isn’t going to be happy if she finds out you’re warning me.”
“Gotcha,” Dean answered. “You okay?”
The concern gave him some comfort. “Yeah, Dean. I’m fine. But if you get in trouble, I won’t be.”
“Bye, Jase.”
“Later, Dean.” Disconnecting the call, he stared at his phone for a second. “Fuck!”
He raised the hand with the phone, looking for a place to throw it. If it were broken, he couldn’t speak to his mother.
“Jason! Stop!” Peter moved to grab the phone before Jason could smash it. “That won’t solve whatever happened.”
“You’re right.” He let Peter take his iPhone. The need to lash out, or run--anything, felt overpowering. Peter’s concern made him close his eyes. Slow, deep breaths, he reminded himself again.
“So what happened?”
Jason remembered Peter didn’t hear Dean’s warning. “Mom signed me up for ex-gay classes at the church near campus.”
Peter stood silent, mouth slightly opened. When he exhaled, Jason realized Peter couldn’t bring himself to ask the ultimate question.
“No, Peter, I'm not going.” He noticed Peter’s shoulders ease slightly.
“What are you going to do?”
“Dean said my dad argued with her, so I’m going to ask him to help me.” He rubbed his hair several times. What the fuck was his mother doing? Did she really think after eight months of silence she could call, tell him she signed him up for these idiotic classes and he would go?
“Jase.” Peter’s voice caused him to look over. “Your mom is calling again.”
He stared blankly at the phone in Peter’s hand. “Turn it off. She won’t let up until I answer, so her calls can go right to voicemail.”
The sick feeling made his knees weak, forcing him to sit heavily on the futon. He barely noticed Peter turn off the phone. If she was this insistent right now, his mother wasn’t going to rest until she reached him.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
Peter nodded slowly before he walked back to his room. Jason watched him disappear before he closed his eyes. This was not good. If his mother signed him up already, his dad must have agreed to the idea. Without Royce’s support, how could he say no and stay in school? No, he told himself, his dad wouldn’t do that to him.
“Jase?” Jason opened his eyes to find Peter in front of him. He had two phones in his hands, his and Jason’s. “I unlocked it for you.”
“Thanks.” Accepting them both, he put his in his bag. “I need to call Darryl. Mom is going to call him next, you can bet on it.”
“What happened?” Peter sat down, still in just his boxers. “I mean what changed that she suddenly signed you up for these crazy ass classes?”
“Who knows?” He was so upset it took three attempts before he punched in Darryl’s number correctly. “All Dean knew was she signed me up for classes at St. Francis’. Guess that's the counseling Father Dennis is. . . .”
“Hello?” Darryl’s voice stopped him in mid sentence.
“Yo, D, it’s me.”
“Jason!” Darryl’s voice told him he was too late. “Your mom is busting a major nut looking for you. Said you won’t answer your phone.”
“Sorry, I called to warn you. I see I’m too late.” He gave Peter a head shake. This whole situation was spiraling out of his control.
“What’s going on? She said to tell you to call her immediately. Your mom sounded intense.”
“She signed me up for ex-gay classes.” Jason felt cold, his body shivered just saying what she did.
“What!”
“Yup, Saint Barbara the Evangelist signed me up for ex-gay classes at St. Francis’.” From the corner of his eye he could see Peter staring at him intently. “To make this even better, the good Father Dennis has agreed to counsel me to supplement the classes. Dean told me, so I’m not taking her calls. Turned my phone off, so I had to use Pete’s to call you.”
“Bro, this sucks. What’re you going to do?”
“See if Evelyn and Keith want to adopt me?” When Darryl didn’t laugh, he added. “Call Royce and see if he can’t do something.”
“Maybe he can have your mom committed.” Darryl’s joke made Jason smirk. Leave it to his best friend to find a way to make him laugh.
“Perhaps, but I’m not going to suggest that to him.” Despite his smile, Jason didn’t feel relaxed. “Anyway, if she calls back, tell her she can reach me at Peter’s. Give her his number and tell her she can call me there if there’s an emergency.”
Darryl laughed at the suggestion.
Peter snickered as well, tilting his head down, raising one eyebrow. “She can?” he whispered.
Jason waived him down, shaking his head.
“I told her you were there when she called and that seemed to piss her off, so I don’t expect her to call me back.” Darryl still sounded amused. “If she calls me again, I'll pass along the information.”
“Thanks, D. Call us if she does call back.”
“You bet. Don’t stress over this, Bro. It'll work out.”
“Bye.” Jason hung up, but did not hand the phone back immediately. “Do you mind if I give your number to Dean, just in case?”
“Hell you already told Darryl to give it to the Mother Superior of the Spanish Inquisition without asking. Can’t be any worse if Dean has it.”
He checked to be sure Peter wasn’t mad before he said, “Sorry Pete. I'm fairly certain she won’t call. D said she was pissed when she heard I was here. She won’t call.”
Texting as he spoke, he hit, ‘send’ before Peter could answer. Satisfied, he handed the phone back. Jason didn’t move his hand, content to feel Peter’s skin beneath his.
“If she does, I'll give her an earful.” Peter spoke without any hint of humor. “Those classes are stupid. No one ever gets, ‘better.’ In fact, from what I read, almost everyone who is ‘cured’ ends up more miserable than before the classes.”
“Well I’m not going.” Jason leaned closer. He let their lips brush gentled together.
“C’mon, your dad isn’t going to abandon you. He was totally cool when we had dinner.” Peter’s attempt at reassurance lacked his usual conviction. Jason noted Peter’s smile appeared forced and he kept looking at their hands.
“I know, but it scares me that they discussed it and she’s still pressing me to go. It’s like my dad told her to go ahead.”
“Maybe she’s doing it without his knowledge.” Peter squeezed Jason’s hand before standing up. “You won’t know for sure until you speak to him.”
“True and I’m won’t do that tonight. I’ll call tomorrow when he is at work.”
Peter nodded. “Let me change, then we can study. Won’t help your case to stay in school if you flunk out.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh right, I forgot how close I am to failing.”
He picked up his book, holding it out. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, now start reading it.” Peter disappeared into his room. “It’ll help take your mind off of your mom’s request.”
****************
“Dad?” Jason couldn’t hide his disappointment or his anger at what he was hearing. This was not what he expected when he called his father for help. “How could you agree with her? I’m not going to those classes. This isn’t something I can change. You said you knew this isn’t a choice.”
Pacing his apartment, he was glad Darryl already left for class. He tried sitting, but he was so annoyed he couldn’t sit still.
“Calm down Jason. You didn’t listen to me.” His father sounded tired. “I said just go to appease her. I’m not asking you to do more than show up.”
“Do you have any idea how offensive these classes are?” This was not what he expected from his dad. His dad wanted him to go. “This isn’t like going to Christmas mass and pretending to pay attention. How can you expect me to sit and listen to someone tell me repeatedly I’m an evil deviant, and I’m going to hell unless I change?”
“Jason,” Royce exhaled deeply. “Your mother won’t accept you being gay unless you at least try to get help.”
“Help!” He knew he was screaming. “I’m gay, not mentally ill. I don’t need help. This is not a disease you can cure. She's the one who needs help.”
“Jason . . .”
“No, Dad, I am going to talk about her like that.” God damn, why couldn’t she just ignore him like she did for eight months? “This is stupid. Hell of a way to help me pass my classes this semester.”
“Listen to me.” Royce raised his voice to a near shout. “I can’t get her to give up the idea you can be changed. She's convinced this is what she needs to do to save you. If you go, and I’m not asking you to do more than just show up, and you’re still the same, I can tell her we tried.”
“Do you know how bad this is?” He was on the verge of throwing something. It wasn’t as simple as his father was making it sound. “What happened to, ‘you’re my son and we’ll get through this?’ Sounds to me you’re tossing me to the lions just to make things easier for mom.”
“Son, I promise you, I’m not abandoning you.” His denial lacked the conviction Jason hoped to hear. “I still have your back just as always, but your mother feels I have ignored her feelings. She believes she’s doing the right thing for her son.”
“You think I'm sick too.” Jason said in a soft voice. It was over, his mother won. She somehow convinced his dad he needed help.
“No, Jason, I do not.” This time the voice was strong. “I know how to deal with your mother better than you. Until I can point to proof her idea is wrong, she won’t let go. That’s why I’m asking you to show up, phone it in. Once you’ve gone and it doesn’t work, I can push her toward acceptance. Without this, she may never come around. She will always believe had we tried, you would have gotten better.”
Jason plopped down on the couch and thought about what his father said. “I can’t do this, not even just phone it in. This is a huge deal.”
The silence that followed lasted long enough that Jason checked his phone to be sure they were still connected. Finally his dad spoke.
“Jason, I understand you need time.” There was more coming. Jason heard his dad talk like this before and knew what was next; an ultimatum. “However, you need to appreciate that sometimes I know better than you. You have to go to these classes or else I’m not going to be able to get our family back together. I promised you I would always be here for you and that has not changed, but I need you to work with me. There is more involved here than just you. Our family is at stake.
“Before you say anything, I recognize you’re not the cause of the problem; your mother’s feelings are the source. However, I’m not going to let our family break up over this. So I’m asking you to do this for me, for our family.”
“Dad,” he choked out. Damn, why did he have to use guilt? “I . . . let me think about it please? I can’t make this decision right now.”
“Jason . . .” Royce started. Jason steeled himself for an argument. “I understand. We can talk tomorrow. In the meantime, you need to call your mother. She’s left you several messages.”
Jason shook his head knowing his dad couldn’t see it. “She hasn't talked to me since February and the day she decides she wants to screw up my life, I’m supposed to rush to call her back? She can wait until I’m ready to speak to her; like five or six months from now.”
“Jason, enough.”
He knew he pushed too far, his father was frustrated enough without him trashing his mom. “Fine, I’ll call her when we hang up.”
“Thank you.” Royce let out a breath. “Listen, I need to get to a meeting. This will work out, you’ll see.”
As much as his dad might think things would get better, Jason knew going to the classes wouldn’t change his mother. Worse, going, even just for show, was going to suck. “Sure, dad.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
He tossed the phone on the couch. Calling his mother required he decompress for a few minutes. Holding the coffee pot up to the light, he quickly poured it down the drain. Reheated coffee was never a good thing and the time it would take to make more would help him figure out what to say to his mother.
Don’t engage her in an argument, he told himself as he rinsed out the pot. If he fought her, she would just push harder for what she wanted. He lost track of how many scoops he put in, but decided to eyeball it instead of starting over.
Putting a cup down beside his coffee maker, he stood watching the pot fill, pointedly ignoring his phone. Should he tell her he knew what she wanted? If he did, she would know he spoke to either Dean or his dad, something he didn't want her to know. How wrong was this whole situation?
Cup in hand, he paced in front of the couch, looking occasionally at his phone like it was toxic. Finally he knew he had to call or he would miss his first class. Unlike the last few months, he knew for certain she would answer his call. The one time he wanted her to ignore him, she would rush to speak to him.
A deep breath to steel his resolve and he hit call. His coffee looked darker than normal, too many scoops. Not that it matter, it matched his mood perfectly.
“Jason.” Not much of a greeting, more like an admonishment.
“Hey, Mom.” He tried his best to sound happy despite his desire to add, ‘how nice of you to finally answer my call.’
“I've been trying to reach you since yesterday.”
So much for this being a polite conversation.
“What do you want, Mom?”
“Is that how you talk to me?” The annoyance in her voice made him grit his teeth.
“Considering you ignored me for eight months, then demand I call you and when I do, I don’t even get a ‘hello, how are you,’ yes that his how I'm going to speak to you. I just want to know what you want, so I can hang up.”
Damn it! That was not how he wanted this to go. Yes, it was the truth, but it was not going to make this any more pleasant.
Barbara’s silence left him concerned about what was next. She didn’t want to be talking to him, that much he knew, so his lack of respect wouldn’t help.
“You’re right. I was wrong not to speak to you and I should have been more polite just now.”
Polite? All she was worried about was being more polite? How about be more like a mother? God he just wanted this call over.
“How are you, Jason?” Her question sounded forced, but at least she made the effort.
“I’m fine, how have you been?” If he didn’t know what was coming, he would be sad he didn’t know how she was or what she was doing.
“I’m good, thank you.” More forced pleasantries.
He closed his eyes, waiting for what she wanted to tell him. Stay calm, he reminded himself, sure he would forget it the moment his mother went off on him again.
“I assume you got my emails?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Keep it simple, otherwise he would say something he would regret.
“And?”
“I read them, Mom.” Jason tried not to let his anger seep into his voice. Draining the last of his coffee, he walked back to the kitchen.
“Is that all?” Her voice lost even the hint of warmth it had a moment ago.
“Yeah, that’s it.” As much as this answer would piss her off, saying he was not going would be much worse. He filled his cup before heading back to the couch.
“Then I can tell Father Dennis you’ll be there on Sunday?”
Jason sat down, the fight was about to start. “No, I never said I would go.”
The sound of his mother taking a deep breath presaged her reaction. “Why not?” This time her words were pinched, her anger barely contained.
“Why would I go? I don’t want to go somewhere that hates me.” It was futile arguing with her, but he didn’t want to give in without a fight.
“The Church does not hate you, Jason, you’re welcome there. It is the sin, not the sinner that is rejected.”
“Mom, what’s the point in going? Peter and I are not splitting up.” This was going to set her off. Braced for her retort, Jason heard his mom draw a deep breath then let it out.
“Perhaps, I wasn’t clear, I signed you up for classes at the church and I expect you to go. This is more than just a request, Jason.”
“Classes?” He knew it best to pretend he didn’t know. “What classes?”
“Father Dennis holds classes to help people find their way back to God.” He noted his mother spoke slowly, as if she were choosing her words carefully.
“You mean ex-gay classes, don’t you?” Better to get the issue out in the open. His mom was not going to be direct about what she was plotting unless he challenged her.
“Sometimes they are called that, yes.”
Clenching his jaw, he kept his silence, waiting for her to say something. Despite what his dad said, he couldn’t imagine going to ex-gay classes, even if he just pretended to be interested.
“Are you still there?” Barbara asked.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’m not going.” There, he said it. Pressed hard against his head, his fingers squeezed his head until it hurt.
“Yes, you are.” He heard that tone before. She was madder than a wet hen, as grandpa Tellerman liked to say. “This is not optional.”
“Why are you so set on making my life miserable? I don’t need any help, especially not from self loathing, closeted gay people like Father Dennis.”
“Jason, I’m trying to save your soul.”
He stood up, almost knocking the couch over. “No you aren’t, you're worried about how it looks having a gay son. My soul wouldn’t be an issue if I was sleeping with a girl and you know it.”
“Jason Henry Tellerman, don’t you talk to me like that!”
“Like what? Telling the truth?” This was getting him nowhere. “The only thing at issue here is how this makes you look in the eyes of your social circle.”
“No, Jason, what matters is you and your future.”
He almost believed her, but he knew it wasn’t true. She never worried about whether he was sexually active, which was equally dangerous to his ‘eternal soul’ in the eyes of the church.
“My future is fine just as it is, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“You will go to these classes or else there will be consequences.”
Exhaling, he sat down. Here it comes.
“If you expect me to pay for college, you’ll do what I tell you. Otherwise you can finance your own deviant lifestyle.”
Deviant? Now he was some sort of pervert in her eyes? “So, let me get this right, now my going to college comes with strings?”
“If you expect me to pay for you to live in sin, think again. You want to do what you want, fine. Don’t expect your father and I to pay for it.”
There it was, the ultimatum; go or be cut off. Distasteful as his father’s idea of pretending was, it was better than dropping out of school. Wasn’t it?
Shaking his head, he held the phone away, staring at it as if it would offer a different option.
“Jason? Did you hear me?”
“I heard you.” He didn’t try to hide his disgust. “I'm so glad to know you care so little for me that you will insist I do something I find not only ridiculous but disgusting.”
“Jason, I love you. I’m doing this for you.”
“No you don’t and no you aren’t,” he shouted. “Stop pretending like you care. This is all about control and your image.”
“I’m sorry you think that way.” This time she sounded genuinely hurt.
“How else do you expect me to think? You don’t speak to me for months, then when you do, it’s to force some half baked idea to cure me when I don’t need to be cured. Excuse me if I can’t find the love in that picture.”
“Jason, I admit how I treated you was wrong, but I was struggling with how best to react. Now I have a clear idea on how to help you.”
He sensed a small opening. Maybe he could convince her to put this off. “If you really want to help me, how about talking to me first before you shove this stupid idea down my throat.”
“I only spoke to Father Dennis about the classes this weekend and they start next week,” she said. “Had there been more time, I wouldn’t have sprung it on you so suddenly.”
“Mom, this isn’t going to help. Really it won’t. There is nothing wrong with me.” She wasn’t going to back off, but he needed to try.
“Until you try, you don’t know that.”
“So my choices are: go to the classes or else you will disown me.”
A long period of silence followed. He knew his summation challenged her sense of family.
“I will never disown you, Jason, but I will not keep paying for you to live in sin as you are now.”
“I need to think about this.”
“Jason . . .” she began.
“Mom, stop. You can’t expect me to agree just like that. This is a big thing you are asking.” Demanding or threatening were better words, but he refrained from antagonizing her further.
“I don’t see what there is to think about.” Back was the angry Barbara who demanded immediate compliance.
“Maybe to you being cut off is worse than being happy, but not to me.” He still hadn’t decided if he would do what his father asked, but if he did, he wanted to tell his father first. “I need to weigh my options.”
“Jason, this is very simple, either you go . . .”
“Yeah, Mom I get it; if I don’t go you will stop paying for school. Couldn’t be clearer.”
“Is being gay worth all the grief and suffering you'll go through? Do you want to be gay so bad that you would risk finishing school?”
He shook his head in disbelief. She had no clue what she was talking about. The crazies at the church convinced her this was a choice that could be suppressed like eating too much ice cream.
“Being gay is who I am, Mom, not something I chose. You’re asking me to try to change a part of me I can’t control. So basically I have to choose between letting some whack job priest screw with my head, probably making me mentally ill or suicidal, or not going to school. Hell of a choice.”
Here was his nightmare come to life. Midway through the semester and they are going to stop paying for school unless he goes to these stupid classes.
“Fine, Jason.” His mother’s agreement shocked him out of his thoughts. “I need your answer by Friday, so I can confirm with Father Dennis.”
“I’ll call you Friday night after soccer practice.” It was stupid to put it off as long as possible, but he didn’t want to let her have her way.
“Talk to you then.”
She hung up before he could say goodbye, not that he wanted to be pleasant with her after this call. Class started in fifteen minutes so he grabbed his book bag, putting the phone in his pocket. As much fun as this morning wasn’t, tonight promised to be worse when he talked to Peter.
He locked the door and headed down the steps. “Maybe I can get hit by a bus and end up in a coma for a month or two.”
One of the girls who lived on the first floor looked up as she exited her apartment.
Just great, he thought. His day kept getting better and better.
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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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