God I fucking hate everything without Phil Lester.
I sat at dinner. Silent. Unmoving. I had built a routine of picking up the fork, stabbing food, eating, chewing, putting down fork, drinking water, repeat.
This went on without interruption sixteen and a half times until Aunt Margaret decided to talk to me.
"So Daniel, how is school?" She smiled at me. All six pairs of eyes turned to me.
I set my fork down with a light clank on the china plate, and cleared my throat. "Of wonderful. Just great."
You had to pick your battles with my Aunt Margaret. Anything could send her hysterical.
"That's marvelous. Have you finally made friends?"
"Margaret!" My Uncle Rob said gingerly from the head of the table, though he seemed more pondered by why his beer bottle was so empty all of a sudden than how rude his wife was being.
"Oh you know I don't mean it to be rude." Aunt Margaret said rudefully.
"I'm friends with Celia..." I trailed off, considering Celia’s worsening condition.
"We don't mean girlfriends." My Dad joked. No one laughed.
"Mike, Dan is... ah..." My Uncle trailed off a bit.
"If you were a permanent fatherly figure in my life you'd know that I'm gay." I said in defense.
"Gay?" My Dad looked confused.
"It means he likes to kiss boys." My twelve years old cousin Josh said loudly.
"So I've heard."
"Well, have you got yourself a man-"
"Excuse me." I stood and rushed out of the dinning room.
