My One And Only // {Johnnyboy}

Chapter Sixteen: Outed

Soda might not have been that smart academically, but he definitely had common sense. As in he almost immediately noticed that something was off. For one thing, aside from when I was in the hospital, Darry and I never hugged. Ever. And I can almost guarantee that he saw my puffy eyes. So I already knew that he would have a lot of questions.

"Is everything alright?" he asked slowly as he entered our room.

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't too sure that Darry knew what to say, either. I looked at him. However, I was tongue-tied, so nothing was leaving my lips.

Finally, after a long, awkward silence, Darry spoke up. "It's gettin' late, you two should get to bed," he said before leaving hastily.

Soda was confused, and he had every right to be. As I got ready for bed, he began questioning me once more.

"Pony, you alright? You haven't been this upset since that time you got jumped a couple weeks ago. Hell, ya seem even more upset than then," he questioned. I didn't say anything for a minute or so.  I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had just came out of the closet.   I mean, you would need to do that yourself to understand how terrifying that is. 

"I ain't upset," I said eventually.  Which wasn't exactly a lie since 'upset' wasn't the word I would use to describe how I was feeling.  I was just trying to process everything.  "Jus' a little spooked, that's all." I closed my sketchbook and fell onto our bed, hoping that Sodapop would drop it.

I felt him slowly lie down next to me. I didn't look at him. I just wanted to go to bed and forget about everything. But Soda kept pushing me.

"Pony, you know you can trust me. That don't mean you need to tell me anything, but you can trust me, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, my back facing him.

"Jeez, you jus' haven't been the same since ya came home. You used to tell me stuff, but now it's like you're hiding something from me. Something big." Soda seemed annoyed, but at the same time concerned.

"Well, maybe try spending a week in some old, musty, church and try to be the exact same when you get back, huh? Maybe try hearing the screams of your boyfriend getting crushed by a fiery chunk of wood, and try being the same when the damage is done, huh?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said. I realized that I had been outed by non-other than myself.

Soda was silent for a minute. Then, he said, "Your boyfriend, huh? So this is what you've been hiding from me? That you're one of those fucking queers, huh?"

'Oh. Fuck.' I thought to myself. Pure panic was rushing through my head. My palms were sweaty and my face was beet-red.

"Soda, that's not what I meant-"

"No, no, no, this makes perfect sense. No wonder you an' him were holding hands in the hospital. Yeah, that's right, I saw that. And no wonder you've been acting so weird. 'Cause you ain't nothing but one of them fags, huh?"

Soda was getting out of our bed. I couldn't think of anything to say. I wasn't expecting Soda to love the idea of me with another guy, but I also didn't think he would go out of his way to treat me like that. Silent, uncontrollable tears were rushing down my face as I watched Soda angrily storm out of our room. If I was panicked before, then this was on a whole new level.

The last thing I remember from that night is crying myself to sleep.