Not Another High School Love Story

3. Sympathy for the Devil

Weekends are typically slow for me, this one's no exception, it's pretty much just the way I thought it'd be. Grace and I watched a movie yesterday, but I haven't really spoken with her much since. Saturdays are always busy for her family, so all I have to show from her are a few stray texts. It wouldn't bother me so much, if it didn't mean I was stuck here with just my dad to keep me company. I try to avoid him when I can, and I've been doing a pretty good job by playing video games in my room all day, but I made the mistake of emerging for a snack. He comes into the kitchen now, spotting me as I munch on my bowl of cereal.

"Get your elbows off the table, Jonah." He commands, going to the cupboard to get a glass. I comply quietly, shooting a quick glare at his back. He almost catches me as he turns around, checking to see if I listened. "You know better than to eat that, you'll spoil your supper."

"I was hungry." I comment, ignoring the tired look it elicits.

"Then you should've eaten lunch when I told you to." Dad turns on the faucet and fills his glass. Again I ignore him, that's just the way he is. He's not a bad father, I know he means well in his own way, even if it doesn't always come across like that. I honestly can't remember a time when he wasn't so serious, but I still love him. A lot of people do, he's a hero. He was in the Navy before he met my mom, and I guess he did some pretty brave stuff. I clearly don't take after him, we couldn't be more opposite. He sees the world in shades of grey, but I'm full of color. He speaks to me again, "I have dinner plans tonight, will you be okay by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, go for it. Is this about your campaign?" I ask. As if he doesn't have enough to do already, my dad's running for city council. All that time he served makes him feel entitled to his very strong opinions. It doesn't interest me for the most part, he does his thing and I do mine, we pretty much just share a house.

"Don't worry about it." He answers, as private as ever. "I'll be back before you go to bed, so don't get any ideas—I don't want you sneaking Grace over here while I'm gone."

"Not a problem, dad." It's easy to comply, and I laugh about it in my head. He's so worried about me having girls over, but he's like everyone else, he has no clue I'm gay. The disconnect between us is so huge already, I can only imagine how wide it would grow if he knew the truth. He's made his feelings very clear on the matter, and I'm glad that by the time I decide to tell him I'll be far away from here. There aren't too many things I'm afraid of in this world, but I am afraid of him.

"Good. When I get home I expect your chores to be finished, and that includes cleaning your room." Dad puts his glass in the sink, giving me one more dish to wash. As he goes to leave he slaps me hard on the shoulder, man to man. That's about as affectionate as he ever gets, and I wonder how he'd react if I actually tried to hug him. Like I said, I do love him, and sometimes I wish he would tell me he loves me back. I'm sure he does, but it's not the same as hearing it. There are a lot of things I wish could be different between us, but there's no point in wishing.

It's just easier to accept things as they are. That's what I've always done, and it's served me well so far. I'll never be the smartest guy in the room, or the strongest. I'll never be anyone's first choice, and I'll definitely never be the son he wanted. I try hard to step out of his shadow, but the one he casts is pretty large. Everyone in this town basically knows me as Jason Pierson's son, like I'm just another part of him, a hand or an arm or something. I'm the comma that comes after his list of accomplishments, the quick pause when they stop to take a breath. I'll find my own path eventually, but right now I'm just trying to get by.

As soon as I'm finished eating I start on my chores, hoping to get them done as quickly as I can. It doesn't take long, but by the time I get to my room I lose whatever motivation I had. I choose one pair of unlucky boxers to pick up off the floor and throw in my hamper, then I go back to playing video games. It's as good a way as any to waste time, and it feels like I've only just sat down when I hear my dad calling up the stairs. He tells me goodbye, and then leaves.