Chapter 56

The morning started off with a bang.

Literally.

I jolted awake at the sound of clattering metal coming from downstairs.

That must be my mom rearranging everything… again.

She does that a lot, mostly when she’s upset or frustratedly annoyed—or both. Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed with tired eyes and make my way downstairs. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I groaned at the aching in my head.

When I enter the kitchen, my mom is picking up cookware from the tiled floor. “Mom?”

“Oh, Sorry Dally. Did I wake you?”

“Kinda.” I answered before yawning.

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just, stress-cleaning.”

“And what exactly is it that you are stressing over?”

“It’s nothing.” She says.

“Mom.” I pressed.

“Ugh, fine.” She slumped her shoulders down. “Your father’s mother is coming over for lunch today.”

“Why?” I wondered.

“Who knows? Probably to call me fat to my face like she always does.”

“I always thought that grandma loved you?”

“Are you kidding me?” Mom laughs. “She hates me and she always has.”

“I highly doubt that.” I say.

“Make sure you tidy your bedroom, you know how she likes to snoop.” She says. “The woman acts as if she owns the place.”

“You act like she’s crazy.”

“That’s because she is. Did I ever tell you about the first time your father ever brought me home?”

“Uh, maybe?” I honestly couldn’t recall.

“Well, the night was going perfectly until your father went to the bathroom. Then your grandmother called me a trashy trollop right to my face.” She says. “Then I called her a shrivelled up bitch, and then she threw a cob loaf at me.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” I was shocked.

“It missed by an inch, but still. There’s a lot of animosity between us. I think she might’ve wanted to murder me at one stage.”

“I’m sure she’s over it.” I say, though I couldn’t truly be sure. My grandmother has always been dead-set in her ways.

“Do I have to be here for the lunch?” I groaned. “I have that wedding to go to.”

“Mitchell said the wedding doesn’t start until seven o’clock.” Mom says.

Lucy’s dad and future step-mother had decided to go with a sunset ceremony on the beach, which sounded like a nice idea.

Wait.

How does Mitchell know what time it starts?

“How does Mitchell know what time the wedding starts?” I asked her.

“He was invited.”

“Really?” I queried. This is the first I’m hearing of it. Why would Lucy mention that she invited him?

“We were all invited, but I hate the beach and your father hates skipping his favorite tv show, so…”

Fair enough.

“Fine, I guess I’m staying for lunch. But I am not helping you cook.” I say with crossed arms.

“Pshh, you think I’m cooking?” She scoffed. “If I cook lunch, she’ll find something to judge about it, so I’m going to order in from that fancy restaurant across town. And when she says she doesn’t like my food, I’ll know for a fact that she’s lying because she loves that shitty restaurant.”

“Smart. I’m kind of excited now.” I say, getting myself a glass of water before heading back upstairs.

It was twenty-past-twelve when my grandma arrived to our house with a dozen shopping bags.

“Hi grandma.” I greeted her first.

“Oh hello my favorite grandchild.” She says, dropping the bags on the floor and throwing her arms open.

“That’s kinda mean.” Says Mitchell from behind as I hug her.

“Have your parents been feeding you?” She asked with feigned concern. “You look far too thin.”

Ouch.

“Of course we feed him, mother.” Dad says. “He’s just, very particular about his food.”

“Well, I would imagine.”

Double ouch.

“Nice to see you, Cora.” Says mom with a fake and extra bright smile.

“Nice to see you too, deary.” Grandma smiled, giving my mother a hug. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”

Mom’s face was confused, which pretty much said it all.

“Mitchell, you still kicking arse on the football team?” Grandma wondered, pulling out of the hug and walking towards Mitchell and throwing her arms around him.

“You know it.” He says.

“Of course you are, look how big and strong you are. You might need to let your brother in on your secret.”

“Mom.” Dad cautioned.

“Ooh, what’s that smell?” She changes the subject, already walking towards the dining area. “Mitchell, bring those bags for me dear.”

Wow.

“There are gifts for everyone.” She added.

“Is it too late to make other plans?” I asked mom.

“If I have to stay, then so do you.” She responded.

We all head into the dining area and seat ourselves around the table. Grandma, of course, takes dad’s usual seat at the head of the table, opposite of me, who always sat at the foot, which from the other perspective, could also be seen as the head. Mitchell sets the gift bags down on the ground before taking a seat at the table too.

“So, how have you been Grandma?” Mitchell wondered.

“Wonderful.” She answered. “I just haven’t heard from any of you for awhile.”

“We’ve been busy.” Dad says.

“So, Mitchy, have you decided on a college?” She asks.

“I’m not sure yet. I was supposed to go to UCLA with my best mate, Grayson, but he was in an accident-“

“Isn’t that Diana Scott’s son?” Grandma wondered.

“Yeah.” Mitchell answered.

“Such a shame what happened to that poor boy.” She says. “I heard he was in a coma.”

“Well, he’s awake now.” Mitchell said.

“That’s good. I was praying every day for that boy.”

“I’m sure it helped.” I mumbled sarcastically under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I was just saying how good this food smells.” I lied.

“It does smell good, doesn’t it?”

In case it wasn’t entirely obvious, my grandmother is a devout Catholic woman who believes that her prayers actually change lives. Now, I’m not dismissing her faith, nor am I against or for the debate since the dawn of time that there may or may not be a god. I am, however, skeptical that prayers have the power to manifest. Even if divinity existed, I would highly doubt that the word of a well-dressed elderly woman could somehow wake someone up from a coma.

“So, Mitchell, I bet your a real ladies man. Do you have a girlfriend?”

He stabbed his fork into a cut up piece of steak before answering. “Uh, not right now.”

“Oh, that’s a shame…”

Here it comes.

“What about you, Dallas?” She turned her gaze to me. “Any special lady?”

“Uhhhhh..” I could not form words.

“He’s kinda in a relationship.” Mitchell says, causing me to glare daggers at his dumb steak-greased face.

Grayson and I haven’t really labelled whatever it is that’s going on between us.

“That’s adorable, what’s the lucky girl’s name?”

Dad is looking down at his plate, while mom is shaking her head at Mitchell.

“It doesn’t matter.” I say. “Hmmm, this chicken is delicious.” I take a small forkful and shove it into my mouth.

“That’s pork.” Mom says.

Oh…

“Don’t be shy, now. What’s her name?” Grandma insisted.

“Mother, leave him be. He’s trying to eat.” Says dad.

“I’m just trying to talk with my grandchildren. Am I not allowed to ask about their love lives?”

“His name…” I take a breath. “Is Grayson.”

There’s a prolonged silence. I couldn’t help but feel as if my grandmother was praying to the almighty to reverse time. Either that, or she was begging the lord to smite me where I currently sat.

“You know….”

Here comes the old as time ‘homos are going to hell’ skit.

“that….. is…… fascinating.”

Um.

Grandma says what?

Maybe she’s senile?

“I’ve never met an lgbtq person before, I was starting to think they were a myth.” She says.

“Wait? You’re okay with this?” Dad wondered.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Aren’t you catholic?” He asked.

“Just because I believe in god and I go to church, it doesn’t mean that I believe everything they preach.” She says, rolling her eyes at dad before her gaze fell onto me. “How long have you known you were gay?”

“I’m not… gay.” I tell her. “I’m.. I don’t know what I am.”

“Well, that’s okay. Nobody really knows who or what they are. Life is a journey.”

Hmmm. This is going far better than expected, well, unexpected. I hadn’t planned on coming out as not-straight to my grandmother, at least not until she was in a casket, or maybe not even then.

But I’m glad it happened today.

I feel so much lighter.

“Also, I kind of already knew.” She admitted.

“How?” I wondered.

“One of your cousins may have showed me the photo of you and that Grayson kid online.”

Great, so my cousins also know?

I bet it was Allen, that rat.

Eh, it’s not like I ever see them enough to care about what they think, anyways.

“Which is why…” She stands up from the table and brings over a gift bag. “I got you this.” She pulled out a rainbow flag, and I immediately wanted to end myself right then and there.

“Oh my god.” I groaned, putting the palm of my hand against my forehead.

“Grandma, you didn’t.” Mitchell stifled a laugh.

“I also got other stuff; sweaters, t-shirts, a few porno magazines.”

I choked on a piece of pork as Mitchell cackled.

“Mom, you didn’t.” Dad groaned.

“Of course I didn’t, son. I was only joking.” She laughed. “Unless..”

“Mom!” Dad warned.

“Alright, fine. No porno magazines.” Grandma smiled sinisterly. “I remember when your father was a teenager-“

“Mom.” Dad warned again.

“Alright, god. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Do you want me to see if there are any spare rooms in the nearest nursing home?” Dad joked.

“Oh son, I think we both know out of the two of us, it won’t be me who ends up in a nursing home.”

I push my plate away and scoot backwards a tad so I could stand up. “I gotta go and get ready for this wedding.” I excuse myself.

“But you’ve barely eaten anything.” Mom stated.

“I’m saving room for cake.” I say.

“Ooh, can you bring me home a slice?” Mom asked.

“I’ll try.” I tell her before heading upstairs to get ready.

I had agreed to help Lucy organise the reception, along with the after party that was going to be held in her very own backyard. The after party was her idea, not her father’s, and knowing Lucy, I would bet actual money that she had huge plans for it.

Hours later, the sun was beginning to set as guests began arriving to the reception. There was a floral arch at the entrance, which gave way to an aisle that was scattered with rose petals and lined with glowing lanterns. At the end of the aisle was a canopy, where the officiant waited, alongside the groom and his best man.

I was seated in the second last row, alongside my friends and my idiot brother.

“Where’s Grayson?” Mitchell asked in a whisper from beside me.

“I don’t know.” I answered.

I haven’t talked to him since yesterday, and he told me that he was definitely coming to the wedding. I’ve called him at least a dozen times today, but to no avail.

He must have changed his mind?

Beside the canopy, two violinists and a harpist began to play a soothing melody. It reminded me of a lullaby. I say that, because it’s almost making me fall asleep.

Lucy, who was dressed in a pastel blue dress and holding a bouquet of hyacinths, begins walking down the aisle, followed by two other older bridesmaids, who were dressed in a darker shade of blue. Then, when they reach the canopy, the instrumental band begins playing here comes the bride.

Lucy’s stepmother, well, soon to be stepmother—in like a few seconds—entered through the floral arch. She was dressed in a glittery white dress and a man, who I assume is her brother—due to his young age—had his arm linked with hers as they slowly walk past us and down towards the canopy.

I pull out my phone to see if Grayson had texted me back yet.

He didn’t.

“Dude, put that away.” Mitchell said. “Don’t be rude.”

I rolled my eyes but comply.

The bride reaches the canopy and the band stops playing, leaving only the serene sound of overlapping waves.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen.” The officiant says with a loud, clear and authoritative voice. “We are gathered here on this joyous occasion, to witness the union of two unique and beautiful souls.”

Cringe.

I zoned out and began thinking about Grayson. About the two of us.

I didn’t know what we were, and it was starting to get confusing. We haven’t really seen much of each other for a few weeks, but we’ve talked on the phone a lot. And yes, he finally got a new phone for himself.

I wanted him to be here.

“You may kiss the bride.” The officiant says, pulling me from my thoughts.

After the ceremony, everyone headed back to Lucy’s house. In the backyard, we had set up a massive marquee, which took forever, given that there were only six of us to put the damned thing together, along with all of the tables, lights, decor, snacks.

“So my dad and his new wife decided to head straight to the airport, which means we can get hella wasted.” Lucy says as Mitchell pulled into her driveway and parked the car.

“I was actually thinking of going home, I feel kinda sick.” I say.

I wasn’t lying. In fact, my stomach felt as if there was a miniature blade swimming around and scarring me from the inside.

“No, please don’t go Dal. Tonight is going to be amazing.” She says. “I even ordered an ice luge!”

“Yeah, don’t be a loser.” Mitchell says.

“Fine. I guess I could stay for a little while.” I tell them. “But after that, I’m going home.”

“I’m starving.” Says Mitchell, changing the subject.

Ugh.

The thought of food made me want to retch.

“Same.” Says Lucy.

We were the first to arrive.

We enter the marquee and both Lucy and Mitchell dart straight for the food. I take a seat at an empty table and pull out my phone again.

Still nothing. No text, no call, nada.

I groaned as I slumped over and pressed my forehead against the tabletop.

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What if something bad happened? Again?

I hear someone clear their throat. “You look like you could use one of these.” His voice says. I look up to see a waiter who looked familiar but I couldn’t quite place him. Maybe I’ve seen him around town?

He hands me a glass of clear liquid with a lime wedge in it. “Is this vodka?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He says. “It’s all I could get before the bartender could catch me.”

Does he think I look older than I actually am?

Would that be a good thing, or a bad thing?

Ah, who even cares.

I take the glass and take a massive swig from it. I swallow it down and sigh with relief.

“You didn’t have to.” I say.

“You seem upset, and you’re sitting all alone.” He stated the obvious.

“Well, to be fair, there’s only like five people here so far.” I say.

“Touché.” He smiled. “Well, if you want a refill, there’s a secret stash of alcohol in the fridge in the garage.”

“Which garage?” I joked.

He laughs. “Riiiight? My uncle’s house is massive, huh?”

That’s an understatement.

Wait.

Reverse.

Uncle?

“You’re Lucy’s cousin?” I queried.

“Yeah, Van.”

What about a van?

“Huh?”

“My name… it’s Van.” He says. “I know, it’s a crappy name. Blame my parents.”

Oh, so he’s not a waiter?

“It’s not so bad.” I tell him. “Sounds like the name of a secret agent or something.”

“Special Agent Van, huh?” He laughs.

I hear a familiar squeal escape from Lucy’s massive lungs. “Vanny!” She screeched.

“Hey, Luce.” He says as she rushes over and hugs him.

As they reconnect, I down the rest of the glass before getting up to get a refill.

An hour later, I finish another glass of liquor before setting the now empty glass on a table and heading to the dance floor. I was drunk enough to think that dancing would be fun, and I was right. It was fun.

“This song is the best!” Hannah shouted over the music.

“I know right!” I shouted back.

She takes my hands in hers and we swing our arms into the air to the rhythm of the song. I was feeling ecstatic.

“I’ll be back!” I tell her.

“Huh?” She shouted.

“I’LL BE BACK!” I raised my voice louder.

“OKAYY! HURRY!”

I release my hands from hers and I walk towards the exit so I could head inside the house and go to the bathroom.

I walk across the artificial grass when I feel my phone vibrating like crazy in my pocket. I come to a halt and I fish my phone out of my pocket.

Grayson’s calling me?

I move my thumb to answer it, but drunkenly manage to drop my phone. Quickly, I reach down to pick it up from the ground and I answer it.

“Hello?” I spoke into the phone.

“Hey sexy.” He says, causing my heart to stammer in my chest.

“So you do know how to call?” I said sarcastically, slurring my words together.

“I’m sorry, it’s been a crazy day.” He says. “Are you having a good night?”

“It would be better if you were here.” I say, honestly.

“Better late than never.”

Huh?

“You look hot in a suit.” He says.

I inclined my head upright and see him standing on the lawn, one hand gripping his walking frame for support as the other one was holding his phone to his ear. Lucy was wrong when she said white formal wear wasn’t a good shade on anyone. His entire outfit consisted of a white tux with matching pants, and a deep red—No, not red, it was a maroon bow tie around his neck.

He smiled at me. As I slowly approach him, he hangs up the phone and slips it into his pocket.

“I didn’t think you were coming.” I say.

“Here I am.” He places both of his hands on the walking frame.

“Still using that thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “My left leg is still being a bitch.”

“That sucks.”

“Are you mad at me?” He asked.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“For being late?”

“I’m not mad at you.” I assured him. “But I am really, really, drunk.”

He slightly chuckled. “Yeah, I can smell the vodka oozing off of you.”

I sighed. “Had to do something to pass the time. Despite what some people say, weddings are actually very boring.”

“Maybe we can make it a little less boring?”

“How so?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Dance with me?” He asked timidly.

“How?” I look down at his walking frame before looking back into his eyes.

“You’ll just have to make sure I don’t fall.” He says.

“I’ll try.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder as he slowly moves away from his walking frame. He then placed his other hand on my other shoulder. I place each of my hands on either side of his waist. “Is this okay?” I asked.

I have no idea how to dance with someone.

“Yeah.” He says.

“I hope you know, I have no idea how to dance.” I say.

“It’s alright, neither do I.” He said, moving his hands to the back of my neck.

“So, have you decided on a college?” I asked him.

“Mitchell and I wanted to go to UCLA.” He says. Right, Mitchell did mention that. “But I’m deferring a year.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He responded. “That way I’ll have plenty of time to get back into shape, and hopefully get better so I can play for uni league.”

“Was Mitchell upset about that?” I wonder.

“He was at first, then he said he was going to defer too.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. And who knows, maybe you might choose to go to UCLA with us.” He says.

“Pfft. You, me and my brother in the same college? Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” I state.

“I don’t know, I think it would be nice going to the same university as you.”

“What are we?” I asked him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are we? You and I?”

“What do you want us to be?” He queried.

“I don’t know what the future holds.” I say. “But I know one thing.”

I paused to take a breath.

“We belong together.”

“Mariah Carey? Is that you?” He joked.

“I hate you.” I said, meaning the opposite.

Our dancing halted as he replied to me. “I hate you too.” He deep voice caused me to tingle. He slowly leaned in to kiss me on the lips, slipping in a little tongue.

After making out for a few good minutes, we pull apart and smile at each other.

“Shall we head inside, Boyfriend?” He asked.

I roll my eyes with a slight chuckle. “You are so cringe.”

“Rude.” He feigned a gasp.

He’s crazy.

“Fine, let’s head inside.” I say.

“Hold on, we aren’t going anywhere until you say the word.” He says.

“Abracadabra?” I joked.

“I guess we could stay out here all night.” He says.

“Fine.” I groaned. “Can we please go inside… Boyfriend?”

He smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

There are so many things that I hate about Grayson Scott.

I hated that he was taller than me.

I hated that he somehow always smelled good.

I hated how captivating his smile was, and how pretty those blue eyes were.

And I hated the way he called me ‘little Cooper’.

But Hating Grayson was the best thing that ever happened to me, because somewhere along the way, the person that I hated most of all had somehow became the person that I can’t live without.

The person that I was falling in love with.

– The End…

Or is it?