Page 21 of It's Just You

7

Finn

“Mom, please.”I groaned, dropping my head into my open palm.

“You can have one dinner with us, can’t you? It’s not like we’ve seen a lot of you recently.” Damn, was she good at adding that momguilt into her voice.

“But—”

“It’s just one time. Neither of us have seen your old classmates in years, and I’d love to catch up with their parents now that we’re back in town. It would be fun—”

“Mom!” I interrupted her. “Mom, please. Listen, okay?” I took a deep breath. She’d jumped me with the “suggestion” of going out to dinner with a few other parents and their kids from my former high school the moment I’d walked in the door. One nice and relaxed day with Sam, ruined.

“What’s going on?”

“Okay, so… I need to tell you a few things. I mostly kept quiet because speaking up wouldn’t have changed anything, but my years in high school… They weren’t that much fun, to put it mildly. Those kids all laughed at me, made fun of me, and I have no desire to go through that again. I don’t want to see them.”

“Oh, sweetie…” She sighed. “Why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I know you didn’t try to blend in at all, but—”

“Mom. Mom! Seriously.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I never talked about it because it hurt too fucking much. But it was less painful than potentially having to go to dinner with the others and act like everything was okay. “They bullied me. They called me names. They tore up my homework and shoved me around, tripped me, got in my way so I’d be late to class…”

“That was just boys roughhousing. It’s nothing to worry about anymore. None of them will do that to you now.” She still smiled at me, hell-bent on making me go.

Did she really think that none of them would make fun of me now? If I’d been feminine in high school, it was ten times more pronounced now. And like hell would I back down because of them. Not now, not ever again.

“It’s not just in the past. It made my life hell. Every damn day. I was obviously gay, and I didn’t have a choice but to be out and proud. You know how bad my acne was, and you know how scarred I am now because of it. I was smaller, weaker, with no backbone.” I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. It still hurt. “And they did all those things during a time when I couldn’t fight back.”

“But—” She tried interrupting me again, but I raised my hand.

“Let me finish, please.” I cleared my throat. “So I finally realized I only had one choice, since trying to blend in didn’t work at all. I could be unhappy and miserable, or I could stop trying to be something I wasn’t.”

It felt good to say those words aloud. I’d been wanting to say them for years.

Her eyes went huge. “That was why you…”

“Yes.” I nodded. “That was why I started wearing what I loved, what I wanted, why I started doing makeup. I knew you and Dad would just think I was asking for it, but it was my way of fighting back. They were making fun of me anyway, so why not at least feel like myself? What else did I have to lose? Nothing. Then we moved away, so it didn’t matter anyway. But no, you won’t get me to go to a nice dinner with them. No way. If you want to hang out with the parents, you can go ahead. But don’t make me face them, because I won’t.” I looked at her, letting the determination I felt reflect in my gaze.

At least, that was what I hoped she saw, because inside, I was hurting. I’d never managed to let go of the fear, the anxiety of being the victim, no matter how hard I tried. It had gotten easier when we’d moved away and I’d gotten to go to a more open-minded atmosphere, and it had gotten even easier because I’d started to really accept myself in college.

I didn’t have to be defensive and afraid anymore. Until I came here a few days ago, I wasn’t. Everywhere else, I was carefree, confident, a guy who sparkled inside and out. If anyone had issues with me, they could go fuck themselves. If they had a problem with it, well, I’d just throw in some glitter. I snorted inwardly. I needed to really throw a glitter bomb at someone someday… Maybe I should consider going to the dinner anyway, with a bag full of the things.

“Finn, I’d never have told you to go if I’d realized,” she said, and she had the audacity to sound hurt, like she was the one being wronged.

Damn it, this was why I’d never told her about the bullying to begin with. I’d known she and Dad would just say I was asking for it or tell me to tough it out — which was exactly what I’d done, just under my own rules. If those assholes were going to treat me like shit, they could make fun of who I really was, not the pathetic kid they tried to treat me as.

“Well, good, because my final answer is no.”

She flinched. “I’m sorry. We never thought you—”

“I never said anything because it wouldn’t have changed anything. What would you have done? You and Dad still would’ve told me the same things, that I needed to hide or just ignore them. I tried ignoring them,” I said again, trying to get that into her head. “It doesn’t work. Even if you had understood… What could you have changed? Nothing. I did what I had to do, and in the end… I guess I won. I doubt a few years have made them any more tolerant.”

“I…” She trailed off, then started again. “I’m so sorry, Finn. I have no idea what to say.”

“Nothing. Really, there’s no need to say anything. There’s especially no need to tell Dad. I’m pretty sure his idea of defying bullies isn’t wearing makeup and tight jeans.”

She actually snorted at that.

“So… Don’t tell him. It’s not something I want to talk about or even think about. My outfits, my makeup, my personality — it’s all about who I am, not who I pretend to be. I wouldn’t change that anyway, even though I know he’d try to talk me into it.”

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