“That’s ten p.m. where they are, in Korea,” Eli explains. “Every time I talk to them, we’re all in pajamas.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” I ask. Eli nods, their eyes fixed on the carpet.
I can’t imagine telling my parents. Just like that. I wouldn’t even know what words to use. It wouldn’t be anything like telling Gretchen. I knew Gretchen would accept me the way I was, no matter what.
My parents barely even accept me as it is. I close my eyes for a second, and all I can see is the determined grimace on my mom’s face as that striped tie fell into the sink.
It was just a stupid tie. But to look at my mom’s face, you’d think its destruction was essential to preserving life as we knew it.
“You’re going to be great, man,” Derek says to Eli. “You’ve got your talking points all lined up. When you practiced for us yesterday you were awesome.”
“You don’t even know what I said,” Eli says. “You don’t speak Korean.”
“Your tone was great,” Derek says. “You sounded really confident.”
“I just think it’s awesome that you’re doing this at all,” I say. Eli looks up from the carpet and meets my eyes. “Seriously. I’m incredibly impressed. I’d be way too scared.”
“I am scared, though,” Eli says.
“Well, yeah,” I say. “Anyone would be. But that’s part of it, right? You know it’s going to be hard. That’s why making up your mind to do it is such a big deal. I bet that’s the hardest part, though. Now all you’ve got to do is follow through. It’ll be a piece of cake from here.”
“Really?” Eli looks hopeful.
“Really,” I say. “I mean, you already took down a whole needle full of hormones, right? And you’re coming out to your parents. You’re basically a superhero at this point.”
Eli laughs. Derek grins and reaches onto the bookshelf toward Eli’s row of X-Men action figures. Derek grabs Mystique and tosses it to Eli, who laughs again and holds it up overhead.
“T’s coming out, too,” Derek adds. “To his sister. I mean, their sister. Right, T?”
“Right,” I echo, the laughter dying in my throat.
“That’s awesome, T!” Eli claps their hands, beaming. They look so excited for me I’m feeling even more anxious than I did before.
“So tonight, you guys both need to relax,” Derek says. “Let’s go back out there. The game’s winding down. T, you can play a couple of rounds without getting smashed.”
I sigh. “I still have two papers to write.”
“Everyone always has two papers to write. That excuse for not doing stuff stops working around three months into your freshman year. Whoops, you’re there now.”
I groan again, but I follow Derek and Eli back into the common room. Everyone smiles and looks genuinely happy to see us. I smile back, and I don’t even have to force it.
Nance offers me a beer. I take it.
Derek is right. I need to relax.
There’s no rush. I have plenty of time to figure everything out.
Except that I just said I’d come out to my sister at Thanksgiving. And Thanksgiving is only two weeks away.
Holy crap. Holy, holy, holy crap.
10
NOVEMBER
FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE
3 WEEKS APART
GRETCHEN
“Okay, Gretchen, you be Mom,” Carroll says. “Sam, you’re Dad.”
“Why do I have to be your dad?” Samantha whines.
“Because my dad won’t say anything, so your Southern accent won’t distract me.”
“I don’t know how to act like your dad,” Sam says.
“I don’t know how to act like his mom, either,” I say.
“It’s easy,” Carroll says. “Both of you just be hick-like and judgmental.”
“Shouldn’t some of your acting-class friends do this?” I ask. “I don’t think Sam and I will really be able to make this, you know, authentic.”
“Remember, hick-like and judgmental,” he says again. “Okay, I’m going to start.”
It’s the middle of the night. We’re in the dorm basement because it has a couch and no one else ever hangs out there, and because Carroll says the basement’s perpetual reek from the trash compactor reminds him of his hometown.
He’s decided to come out to his parents over Thanksgiving, and he wants to practice. I agreed to help because I owe him. Carroll’s been really patient at listening to me lately. He even came with me to see the new Angelina Jolie movie last weekend. I’d thought it would take my mind off how stressed I was about whatever’s going on with Toni (which it didn’t). Samantha agreed to help him practice, too, because—actually, I don’t know why Sam is helping.
Carroll goes over to hide behind a pillar. “Are you ready?” he calls.
Samantha slumps over in her chair and grabs her crotch, flipping her light brown braids over her shoulders. She sticks her other hand out in front of her face like she’s holding a cigarette.
“Is that how you think dads act when their kids are about to come out to them?” I ask her.
“How am I supposed to know?” She takes a drag off her imaginary cigarette.