Not Ashamed

'Chapter twenty one ×

Supper is quiet. For the majority, all you can hear is the clicking of forms against plates and the sipping of lemon water. My leg bounces under the table anxiously. I need to leave. I need to get out of here.

"So, Axel, where are you from?" Mom asks out of no where. Axel looks up, looking surprised by my mother's sudden interest in him.

"Um, Albany," he mutters.

"And, what's your major?"

"Theatre."

Mom falters at that. She turns to look at my father, who glares for a moment before looking back down at his plate.

"Theatre?" She repeats. Axel nods.

"Yes, Ma'am. It's been my plan since I was a kid."

She simply hums a response and continues eating. I look to Axel, who seems confused as to what he did wrong.

Trying desperately to make a diversion, I address Matt.

"How are you settling in at the firm, Matt?" I ask politely. Matt looks up and smiles nervously. I wonder why, until I notice how closely my father is watching him.

"Fine. Good, actually."

"Well, of course. You're the head of the firm's future son in law."

"Finnick," my mother warns. I shut my mouth, staring at my plate but no longer having any appetite.

"Finnick, can we address what every one is thinking about? Please, no more beating around the bush." My father says this just like I should know what he's talking about, but I'm completely blanking.

"Uh, sure?"

"I know you're angry with us, for god knows what reason, but really, bringing this... boy here, to what? Get back at us?"

"Phillip, please," mom begs.

"We gave you everything you could have wanted, and this is how you repay us?"

I raise my eyebrow at him. "Pardon me, dad, but I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to."

"We gave you everything--"

"You gave me nothing," I stand abruptly, my anxious energy becoming too much. "But nightmares and trust issues. And Axel is not here for revenge, he's here because he's my boyfriend and I want him here. I told you I was bringing someone."

"Yes, but son, we thought you were finally bringing a girl home," mom cuts in.

"Oh my god," I mutter irritably.

"I think I should excuse myself," Axel says, standing. I turn to follow him, but he stops me, giving me a sad smile.

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you. I just... can't be here through this."

I nod and let him go upstairs, turning back to my parents.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hiss.

"Finnick!" My mother gasps.

"Please, be rational. Just listen to us--"

"No, you listen--" I point my finger at him, then notice that my finger nails are green from when Axel got bored a while ago and painted them again. He painted them green this time, because he said it was festive.

"Are your nails painted?" My father asks quietly.

"Yes. Yes, they are. My boyfriend painted my nails for me once, and because he liked doing it, he did it again. I'd let him paint my nails a million times, I'd let him dye my hair, change my entire wardrobe, put makeup on me, whatever will make him happy, because I love him. He's important to me, and I love him, and if you don't get that, then I apologize for my rudeness this evening. Excuse me."

I leave, marching upstairs and finding Axel. I feel like crying, not because of anything they did, but because they said those awful things right in front of Axel.

The second I find him, I bury him in a hug, kissing his forehead.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry about them. We'll leave, we'll go home right now. I'm sorry we came all the way here just to go right back."

Axel hugs me back, nodding into my shoulder. We grab our things, not even wasting time to put on our jackets and march downstairs. We put on our shoes, ignore my parents, and leave the house. I wrap my jacket around Axel's shoulders once we get outside. I'm holding them both, but I thought he'd look far cuter in my coat than in his own.

We get into the car in silence. Tears burn my eyes, but I ignore them. I put our bags in the trunk, open the door for Axel to get into the passenger's seat, and hop up front.

A tear escapes my eye but I quickly wipe it away. Axel puts his hand on my shoulder before I can start the car.

"Finn," he says gently. I turn to him. His smile is still on his face, somehow. His smile makes me want to smile, but I can't. I feel so numb, the tears in my eyes that are slowly surfacing on my cheeks hot against my skin. "I love you, too."