Page 32 of Perfectly Us
Mom doesn’t say anything as I go downstairs. She’s still standing at the kitchen window, the ice melted in her sweet tea and condensation on the glass.
“I’m going out for a while,” I say.
She doesn’t react at all.
I leave the house and drive to Papa’s Burgers. Fried chicken and ice cream are served there too, but the burgers are the moneymakers. The restaurant has both inside and patio seating, so I park and sit at an outside table. The air’s muggy, but with the sun starting to set, it’s not so bad. I order a Coke and scroll through Facebook as I wait for Shiloh to show.
Ruben posts a selfie of him and Melody. She looks happy, and he looks… pretty damn smitten.
Does Shiloh have a Facebook? I never asked him before. I type his name into the search and find him instantly. And holy crap, his picture’s cute. His brown hair hangs in his face like always, but he has a small smile on his lips. I click to add him as a friend, then go back to scrolling.
“Adding me on Facebook? Guess things are getting serious now.”
Grinning, I turn around and see Shiloh walking toward my table. His shirt has some kind of symbol on it, a dragon in a diamond shape.Skyrimis written below it.
“You gonna accept?” I ask as he sits across from me. “Make it official?”
“Make what official?”
“Our friendship.”
“It already is,” he says, looking at his phone. “We have a friendiversary date. If that doesn’t make it official, I don’t know what will.”
My phone dings with a notification that he accepted my friend request.
“May fifteenth,” I say before sipping my Coke. “Don’t you forget it.”
Shiloh peeks up at me through his bangs. “I won’t.”
The waitress comes out to ask Shiloh what he wants to drink, and then we both order a burger basket before she walks off.
“Are you really an atheist?” I ask.
“Yeah. Does that bother you?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You’re free to believe, or not believe, in whatever you want. I was raised in church. You know how it is around here. Sunday school in the mornin’ and church service at night. I even went every Wednesday evening too.”
The waitress brings Shiloh’s drink, and he takes a sip, visibly mulling over my words. “I never went to church. My dad isn’t religious and never wanted to force a religion on me. He said he’d take me if I wanted to go, but I never did. Do you still go?”
“No. I mean, I believe in God and stuff. But I don’t agree with a lot of things we’re taught in church, so I kinda steered away from all that. My parents don’t go anymore either. I think they only went to keep up appearances, ya know? Wow, this is kinda deep, huh? Religion and politics are usually off-limits unless you wanna lose friends or cause fights.”
“Can I ask you something?” Shiloh fidgets with one of his bracelets and looks toward the trees behind the restaurant. “How did your parents react when you came out to them?”
“You’re so selfish, Alex. This family’s been through enough, and now you pull this shit? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Dad’s words, and the anger in his voice as he spewed them, are ingrained in my memory. I try to shove it to the back of my mind and lock it away, but sometimes fragments slip through the cracks.
I shrug and sip my drink. “Could’ve been worse.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. His face is angled toward the table, and his shoulders are a little hunched. “Hey.” I reach across and touch his arm. “Really. It’s fine. That was, like, a million years ago. Things are cool now.”
As cool as they can be anyway. I doubt my dad will ever fully accept me as I am, no matter how many years have passed.
“How did the kids at school take it?” he asks.
“Better than my parents. I got some crap, sure, but everyone was pretty awesome about it. A few other kids came out not long after me. Like I helped give them the confidence or whatever. Made me feel good. People should never be ashamed to be themselves.”
