Page 57 of Down My Chimney

“Honey, you’re notbadat school, though,” my mom said. “You’ve been doing so much better recently—”

“Because my tutor is holding my hand so much, she’s practically doing the work for me,” I exploded. “Maybe I wasn’t failing out before her, but I wasn’t dazzling anyone either. And if I’d known they were going to change the terms of the scholarship on me, I probably wouldn’t have said yes in the first place.”

I looked between the two of them, pleading. “I don’t think you actually understand how hard school is for me. I don’t think you can get it, if it’s never something you had to struggle with. And I don’t think you know how it feels to be told that deep down, I really am smart and that I just need to work harder.”

I choked around a new batch of tears. “I’myour son. Not some magical, perfect kid who’s secretly great at school but just needs to apply himself.Me. I’m sorry you didn’t get a better one, and I’m sorry I’m letting you down, but this is all I’ve got, and when you only tell me you love me when you’re telling me to try harder, it kind of feels like you’re telling me you don’t actually love me at all.”

A sob wrenched out of me. “I’m not you guys. I’m not Claire. I’m just me, and I need you to stop telling me that’s not enough. I need you to see the son you actually have, not the one you’ve dreamed up.” My shoulders shook. “Don’t you think I’d give him to you, if I could? Don’t you think I’d rather be him, that I’d rather make you happy, if I knew how to? But I just don’t. I don’t know how to be the person you want, instead of the person I am.”

“Oh, Blake.” My dad pulled me to his chest as my shoulders slumped, rubbing my back the way he used to when I was little. “I’m so sorry. We never meant to do that. We love you so much.”

I felt ridiculous, crying against his chest like a four-year-old who’d had a nightmare. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even done that. It wasn’t that my father was cold, but his brand of love was always upbeat and motivational. Not slow and comforting like this.

My mom slid off her stool and walked behind me, then rubbed my neck the waysheused to when I was little, and she said I needed to release tension. God, I was completely coming unglued.

“We love you so much,” she repeated.

“All the time,” my dad added. “We don’t care about your grades. We don’t care if you’re in school. We just want you to be happy.”

Bella and Woody trotted over, wondering what all the fuss was about. Bella stuck her snout on my leg, and I let my hand fall, running my fingers through her thick fur. I knew she was probably just hoping for a treat, but it still felt nice. I wanted to crawl into bed and press my face to her fur and sleep for a thousand years.

Finally, I pulled back and attempted to put myself together. I’d gotten snot on my dad’s shirt, and my eyes felt grainy. My sinuses throbbed inside my skull.

“Sorry about that,” I mumbled, trying to wipe my face clean. “I didn’t mean to, uh, lose it.”

“Hey, what did we say in the beginning?” my dad asked. “You have nothing to apologize for. Ever.”

I smiled wryly. “Even if I do drop out of school?”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, like the notion physically pained him, but then he opened them and nodded. “Even then.”

Somehow, that made me feel safer than anything else they’d said. The fact that he wasn’t hiding it, wasn’t pretending it wouldn’t be hard for him, but that he’d said it anyway. It made me feel loved.

Maybe real love couldn’t happen without honesty.

“Is that really what you want?” my mom asked, taking my hand in hers. “Because if it is, we’ll find a way to make it work.”

I smiled gratefully. Now that I’d finally said it, said those words that had been lurking in the back of my mind all year, they’d lost some of their power.

“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I know I can’t keep doing things the way I have been. I know it’s too much. But I also don’t want to let the team down.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe I don’t want to drop out, but I think I really do want to change my major. I know you like the idea of me studying English, but it’s just not me. If I change to something I like better—business, maybe—I think that might help. Even if it means I have to stay in school a little longer, or do another summer semester.”

She nodded. “Whatever you need.”

I laughed weakly. “Can you help me figure out what the hell to say to the guys when I go back on Sunday? Because I just yelled at them and left. They probably think I’m crazy now.”

“You’ve been under a lot of pressure,” my dad said. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I appreciate your optimism, but I think it might be misplaced.” I sighed. “God, how am I supposed to come out to them after all of this?”

He studied me for a second. “You’re sure you want to? Because I meant what I said. You don’t have an obligation to tell them.”

“I’m sure. I’ve gotten to the point where not telling them is more stressful than telling them, you know?”

He nodded. “What if you asked Henry about it, then?”

“Henry?” I inhaled sharply. I hadn’t told them anything about Henry. How could they possibly know that he and I had—

“I mean, he’s gay,” my dad reasoned. “Surely this is something he’s had to deal with before. Maybe he has some advice.”

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