I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed onto her black shirt. "Why Sissy?" I cried, my whole body wracking from the sobs. She began to rub small circles on my back. I just squeezed my arms tighter around my older sister.
"Shh, Baby B." She murmured, content to let me cry myself out before trying to talk to me.
I was seventeen years old, brown hair, brown eyes. My sister was twenty one, and still she insisted on calling me "Baby B" which stood for baby brother. Her name was Annika (but I only ever called her Sissy) and mine was Evan. My sister, half sister, actually, looked nothing like me. Her hair looked bronze when she was standing in shadow, but gold in the sunlight. Her green eyes were always sparkling, and she despised our mother, but she still visited my mom every other weekend so she could spend two days with me. I played baseball too, and she never missed a game, although she long ago stopped dragging Mom there. Even when Mom did come she spent the whole time in the car because the sun bothered her eyes because of her hangover. Both of our dad's were dead, and I couldn't live with Sissy because she was still living a college dorm. So, that's my story. But none of it is the reason I am crying. The reason I am crying is because my mom and I had another fight about me and my 'choices.'
Meaning Mom doesn't support that I'm gay.
I don't understand her at all. She loved me before I even discovered that I liked anyone as more than a friend. She'd never really minded that I spent more time with my guy friends than going out on dates. She'd brought up girls and dating lots of times, but in the end decided that I was just a late bloomer and would come around. I never really did. When I was fourteen I realized that I was more attracted to men than woman. I confided in my friend's first. Some of them just plain hated me after that, but a few, like Cal and Mikey, didn't mind. Then I told Sissy. I expected a great big "WHAT?" before her acceptance, because my sister was the dramatic type. But she'd just shrugged. I can still hear her going, "So? You're still my Baby B, and if you're happy than there's really no reason to make a big deal out of this." Still, I avoided telling my mom until about a year ago.
The moment I told her, I knew I should have taken up Sissy's offer to be there when I told Mom. "What?" She'd screamed, putting out her cigarette - a very bad sign. My mom always has a lit cigarette. "What? You mean to tell me my son is a freak?" Her words stung, and I wished for Sissy. I could never battle it out with mom like she'd been able too. My sister had taken care of me since I was eight, my mom was always to drunk to remember she had kids, let alone actually take care of them.
"Mom, it's not a big deal. Really." I said, it really wasn't, but my mom always had to take things to an extreme.
"Why?" She'd yelled. "What did I do wrong?" She looked to the sky as though it would give her an answer. Mom's not a religious person, but somehow I'd offended her by being myself.
"You did a lot of things wrong, but just because I like guys more than girls has nothing to do with you. I am not a screw up, I am not a mistake, I am not a problem. I'm me. Your son." The tears were streaming down my face, as I tried to make her understand.
Mom advanced on me. She can be a very intimidating woman who was used to getting her way. She was six foot four, dark brown hair and brown eyes that seemed like they could burn right through you. "I have no son," She said coldly, slapping me across the face. "Get out of my house you . . . you monster!"
I don't know how I managed it, but I somehow got to Sissy's campus. Parking the car in some random spot, I made my way to her room. I didn't know if she had a roommate or not, but I knocked on the door, she answered it. And looking at her, I was shocked at how ordinary she looked. I hadn't realized until now that Sissy wouldn't know of what had gone on between me and Mom until someone told her. She'd gone on with her normal routine in her black flannel pajama pants and lacy black top.
"Sissy," I choked out, falling into her arms. After a strangled explanation, I stayed with her that night, and woke up the next morning to find her screaming at Mom over the phone. That's when the events of last night fell back onto me. All the pain. Sissy hung up, and noticing me awake she came and sat beside me.
"Baby B." She murmured, running a hand through my hair. "Mom's not coming around, but you're moving back in with her." She said softly.
I bolted upright. "Sissy," I pleaded. "Don't make me."
"And where would you go, Evan?" She asked. "You can't stay here with me, your dad's dead. All of our grandparents live in the states. Face it, she's your only option." Sissy had a point, she always had a point and she was usually right.
"I can get her to sign that legal thingy and I'll live on my own." I was desperate. I could not go back and face her. She hated me, and I knew it. My old friend's turning their backs on me and looking down at me were nothing compared to the scorching hate that radiated from my mother. My own mother. The one person who was supposed to love me no matter what happened or what I screwed up.
"Work?" Sissy asked me. I knew that she understood, but she also knew that Mom was my only option. When I didn't answer, she crouched down so she was looking up into my eyes. "Baby B, I know she's closed minded. I know she's a complete and total bitch, but it's not even two years until you turn eighteen. Then you can go to college, spend a year on a whacky road trip with your friend's and call me from Vegas scared half to death you married a hooker, but until then you need to live with Mom. And if she does anything to you, anything, I don't care what it is, you can call me and I'll talk to her." My sister said with an expression that talk was to weak of a word. Mom and Sissy haven't 'talked' since she was eleven and first told my mom 'no.'
"Promise?" I asked, looking into her green eyes.
Her lips curved into a small sad smile. "Promise."
Then she drove me back to my mother's.
It was more than a year later and I was still crying to my sister. Don't get me wrong, I love her, and she's done everything for me. She's the strongest person I know, and the only one I can truly trust, but sometimes I wish that I could be stronger. Stand up to my mom. I don't know why I can't. Maybe I am weak, maybe I am stupid. But that's who I am. I drew in a deep breath and sat up, staring at Sissy.
"Ready to tell me what happened this time?" She asked patiently. We were in her temporary apartment.
I nodded. "There was a football game at school tonight, and Jason Henderson invited me to go with him, you know, the captain of the basketball team? Well, he's my latest crush, and I told him I would love to. He said he would meet me there. And I said okay. Anyway, when I was getting ready to leave mom asked me where I was going, and I accidentally said on a date. She said with a guy, and I just nodded. She went into a rage and I came here." Sissy looked at me, biting her lip. I knew that she was dying to call mom and yell but she knew I hated when she did it in front of me. I strange looked dawned on her face.
"What time was the football game?" She asked.
I glanced at the microwave clock. "Ten minutes ago." Sissy stood, so I did too.
"Go into the bathroom and get cleaned up." She shooed me in a random direction. I did what I was told, not entirely sure where I was going, but knowing better than to disagree with my sister when she got that look on. I came back from the bathroom, my eyes slightly less red and puffy. My sister was holding my cellphone - never a good sign. Sissy isn't one to pry, so catching her with one of your possessions usually means something bad is going to happen.
"Come on Baby B," She said, wrapping an arm around me. "We're going to that football game."
I stopped dead in my tracks. Sissy tried to keep dragging me, but I topped six four about two years ago and she really hasn't been able to drag me anywhere since. "I can't go now." I whined.
"Why not?" Sissy asked, crossing her arms.
"Jason probably thinks I stood him up. He's probably really mad, and I don't want to go looking like I spent the last twenty minutes crying."
"I called Jason, told him that you were running late because of car trouble and that you would be there in ten minutes. If your eyes bother you that bad I can give you some of my make-up to put on so you can hide it." My sister listed off all the solutions to my problems. I smiled.
"Okay Sissy, just for you."
*Five* Years* Later*
Sissy leaned against me, giving me one last hug. "I'm so excited," She squealed hanging onto my arm.
"So am I, Sissy. I'm really happy for you." I really meant it too. My sister was getting married today, to Scott Jones. Scott was really nice, but more importantly, I've never seen my sister look at any guy that way, like the sun is no longer in the sky, but holding her hand, and that counts for a lot.
"Do I look okay?" Sissy asked, twirling in her simple white gown.
She grinned and swatted my arm playfully. "Charmer." She accused. And then her face fell.
"What is it?" I asked, worried. Bending down to look her in the eyes I gripped her arms slightly.
"I love you and all Baby B, but I just wish Daddy was here to walk me down the aisle." She bit her lip, probably scared she'd offended me.
"I don't blame you, Sissy. But look at the bright side, at least Mom's not trying to steal the groom." Sissy grinned. Mom had died a few years ago, and no one had noticed her missing. Much. All we really noticed was how much bluer the sky was without her smoke clouding it. She'd died of lung cancer. Big surprise.
The wedding march began, and Sissy gripped my arm tightly. We began our march down the aisle, though not before she gave me one last hug as Annika Carter, and I swiftly kissed her cheek before placing her hands in Scott's. I faded back to my rightful place beside my boyfriend, Jason. Yeah, the same Jason Henderson that invited me to the football game when I was seventeen. He took my hand and I gripped it as Sissy said I do and she kissed the groom.
© Double I 4 My Guyz