of mine is gonna hang out with a fag,’ he said. ‘I won’t have some sick fuck-up try and turn my son gay,’ he told me. He went on and on, shouting about how wrong it was to be gay and how he didn’t want me involved in that lifestyle in any way.”
London had a distant look in his eyes as he recounted what happened that night, and it looked like he was about to cry. Hell, I felt like I was about to cry too. What his dad did and said was horrible—brutal, in fact—and, if we hadn’t been in the situation we were in, I probably would have felt bad for London and understood how an experience like that could really screw someone up, especially when that someone was gay. But, despite whatever sympathy I felt, I couldn’t justify the situation we were in. Two wrongs don’t make a right after all. Just because he was screwed up, that didn’t mean he had the right to screw me over.
“After that,” London said, regaining some of his composure, “I knew two things for sure… Jasper and I were done—we couldn’t be friends anymore—and, I could never let my parents know I was gay. If my dad acted like that because I was hanging out with a fag, how do you think he’d respond if he knew I was one too?”
Again, I felt more than a tinge of sympathy for London. It must have been so painful for him to have to hide and deny a part of who he was from the people who were supposed to love him most—and, I could finally see how his secret was, indeed, bigger than mine. But, still, why did that mean he had to betray me and try to rob an innocent man?
Chapter 2
“Okay, London,” I said. It was the first time I’d spoken since he began his oration. “I get it. Your parents—or at least your dad—would have a hard time accepting that you’re gay. But, why would you do this to me and Anthony? Why would you do this now? Why ask for money? Why betray me ?”
That last question was the one I wanted answered most. Call me selfish, but it’s true. I might have asked a few more. But, if I did, it doesn’t matter. They weren’t nearly as important.
“No, Kirby,” London said, raising his voice. “You’ve got it wrong. My parents wouldn’t have a ‘hard time’ accepting that I’m gay. They wouldn’t accept it at all. They’d disown me. I’m certain of it… So, that’s what it all comes down to. If my secret comes out, that’s it—I’m done for! My parents would disown me, and I’d lose everything I had.
“Now, think about it… What happens if your secret comes out? What? Your secret may be a little sick, but it’s not nearly as subversive. There’s still a greater stigma that attaches to homosexuality than there is to some old fart chasing a co-ed.”
I was a little impressed by what London was saying, and by how he was saying it. It was as if he’d obviously thought out his whole spiel before and was repeating it as he’d rehearsed, verbatim. He must have seen this moment coming and prepared for it. He knew I’d ask me why, and he was giving me the long end of his reason.
“You’ll get a slap on the wrist, and be grounded,” London’s monologue continued. “Maybe your car privileges will be revoked for a month, or your folks will tell ya’ to act your age, not your bra size; but, at the end of the day, you’ll still have a place to call home, and parents who still love you, who disapprove of something you did, not of who you are.”
Could it be? Was London Gallagher actually making sense?? Indeed, he was, though only to a certain point. The way compared our situations and what we each had at stake was pretty accurate, but that still didn’t explain why I needed to suffer because of my relative advantage.
I thought about what I should do, and decided that I should do something. So, I asked London a question. “What’s your point?” I asked him. “What’s the point that you’re trying to make here? Can you just get to it? Do we really need to go through all this
London had a distant look in his eyes as he recounted what happened that night, and it looked like he was about to cry. Hell, I felt like I was about to cry too. What his dad did and said was horrible—brutal, in fact—and, if we hadn’t been in the situation we were in, I probably would have felt bad for London and understood how an experience like that could really screw someone up, especially when that someone was gay. But, despite whatever sympathy I felt, I couldn’t justify the situation we were in. Two wrongs don’t make a right after all. Just because he was screwed up, that didn’t mean he had the right to screw me over.
“After that,” London said, regaining some of his composure, “I knew two things for sure… Jasper and I were done—we couldn’t be friends anymore—and, I could never let my parents know I was gay. If my dad acted like that because I was hanging out with a fag, how do you think he’d respond if he knew I was one too?”
Again, I felt more than a tinge of sympathy for London. It must have been so painful for him to have to hide and deny a part of who he was from the people who were supposed to love him most—and, I could finally see how his secret was, indeed, bigger than mine. But, still, why did that mean he had to betray me and try to rob an innocent man?
Chapter 2
“Okay, London,” I said. It was the first time I’d spoken since he began his oration. “I get it. Your parents—or at least your dad—would have a hard time accepting that you’re gay. But, why would you do this to me and Anthony? Why would you do this now? Why ask for money? Why betray me ?”
That last question was the one I wanted answered most. Call me selfish, but it’s true. I might have asked a few more. But, if I did, it doesn’t matter. They weren’t nearly as important.
“No, Kirby,” London said, raising his voice. “You’ve got it wrong. My parents wouldn’t have a ‘hard time’ accepting that I’m gay. They wouldn’t accept it at all. They’d disown me. I’m certain of it… So, that’s what it all comes down to. If my secret comes out, that’s it—I’m done for! My parents would disown me, and I’d lose everything I had.
“Now, think about it… What happens if your secret comes out? What? Your secret may be a little sick, but it’s not nearly as subversive. There’s still a greater stigma that attaches to homosexuality than there is to some old fart chasing a co-ed.”
I was a little impressed by what London was saying, and by how he was saying it. It was as if he’d obviously thought out his whole spiel before and was repeating it as he’d rehearsed, verbatim. He must have seen this moment coming and prepared for it. He knew I’d ask me why, and he was giving me the long end of his reason.
“You’ll get a slap on the wrist, and be grounded,” London’s monologue continued. “Maybe your car privileges will be revoked for a month, or your folks will tell ya’ to act your age, not your bra size; but, at the end of the day, you’ll still have a place to call home, and parents who still love you, who disapprove of something you did, not of who you are.”
Could it be? Was London Gallagher actually making sense?? Indeed, he was, though only to a certain point. The way compared our situations and what we each had at stake was pretty accurate, but that still didn’t explain why I needed to suffer because of my relative advantage.
I thought about what I should do, and decided that I should do something. So, I asked London a question. “What’s your point?” I asked him. “What’s the point that you’re trying to make here? Can you just get to it? Do we really need to go through all this
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