Chapter 11

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Moses

"Do you still want us to stop seeing each other?"
I ask my Dad as we walk into the living room.
He sits on the couch and lets out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry for saying that earlier," he gives me a small smile and motions for me to sit beside him, "I need to tell you something."

I take a seat beside my Dad and try to get a read on him but I can't.

"When I was in high school," he starts slowly, "I had a boyfriend."

My mouth drops and I don't know how to process this.

He continues, "I wanted to spend my life with him, but his parents found out."

My Dad stops and takes a deep breath, he isn't looking at me. I reach out my hand and rest it on his shoulder.

"I don't want you to hate your grandparents," he takes another deep breath then puts his head in his hands.

"Grandma and Grandpa didn't take it well?"

My Dad nods his head and I rub his shoulder then lean in and hug him.

"I'm scared kid," Dad says, "I'm scared that he will think this is my fault."

"Dad, how is me liking boys your fault? I'm gay because I'm gay."

Dad turns into my hug and I realize he's crying. He is trying so hard to hide it but the tears flow like water works. I hold him tightly and rock him gently. Until this point I had never seen my Dad cry.

The next day I wake up to a knock at the door, I waddle over rubbing my eyes and nearly jump when I see Jordan standing there with his work bag hanging off his shoulder.

"Did I wake you?" He asks in this cool knowing tone as he leans against the railing.

" No, I was up," I say as I rub the crust from my eyes, which makes him giggle. He has a beautiful giggle.

He leans in and gives me a quick peck and pulls back before I can pull him in for another one.

"I just wanted to see you before I go to work." He brushes my bed head with his fingers and places his hand on my cheek.

"Do you want to actually play some ball when you get home?"

"You want to see how out of shape I am?" He asks with a broad smile.

"Well, no, I," I struggle to put together a sentence.

"Can I take you out tonight?" Jordan asks with a smile so bright my knees buckle.

"A a a a a date?" I stammer out.

"Yes, A proper date," he says and leans in again on his tip toes and kisses me.

"I'll let my Dad know," I say as I breathe in his cologne. He wears grown up cologne, and I don't think it's the cheap stuff.

He kisses me again and heads down the stairs to a car waiting with a woman leaning against it.

"Someone's got a boyfriend," I hear her teasing in a sing-song voice as I watch Jordan covers his face as he gets in the car.

I lean over the rail and shout, "What time?"

"Six thirty!" He shouts back before the car drives off.

I go back inside to see my Dad standing in his doorway.

"Jordan asked me on a date," I stood still waiting for him to say no.

Dad smiles at me, "need a ride?"

I feel the heat on my face, "I don't think so, he has a car ride deal thing."

"What are you going to wear?"

My Dad's question caught me off guard and I looked at my wardrobe. The wardrobe Jordan bought me before he ever knew who I was.

"I don't know," I run over and swing open the doors. It's mostly T-shirts and jeans, "am I supposed to wear a suit?"

"You don't know the dress code?" Dad joins me at the wardrobe and looks through my clothes.

"What do I do?" I feel myself losing control of my breathing.

My Dad puts his hands on my shoulders and helps me calm down.
"A polo shirt with Jeans and black boots, it's a timeless catch all style."
My Dad grabs a white polo and blue jeans from my wardrobe and hands them to me.
"You have a date with your boyfriend," Dad ruffles my hair and laughs, "I'll make us some pancakes."

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