Wild Card Ch. 01

"I've always been like this, Dad," I said. "Also, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. There's a difference."

"Oh, so you're straight, but choose to fuck around with men. Is that what you're learning over there?" he demanded.

I felt the color drain from my face, and my body went cold. "I didn't learn—"

"Is this what my money is paying for? This faggot shit? You're fucking 'in love' with some cocksucking child molester?"

I tried to defend myself, but my words died in my throat. I looked to Mom for help, but she looked away. Panic set in, but Dad was far from done.

"Goddammit, Cory," he ranted. "First, your ass had to go out of state, then you had to start sleeping with other men. Now, you come back trying to show us filthy pictures of this man. Holy hell, it was bad enough when you were bringing colored and Mexican girls home. What's next, you going to start messing with little boys, too? Start fornicating with..." Dad let the statement hang there.

Something in my brain snapped. "Since when have you been a racist homophobic asshole?" I got up from the barstool. "Maybe I missed something, but I don't remember you being this much of a prick!"

"You will not speak to your father that way!" Mom snapped, choosing that point to re-enter the conversation.

"What?" I said, pointing at Dad. "You'll defend him, but you won't even stand up for your own goddamn son?"

"Boy, do not cuss at your mother," Dad growled.

"Fuck you," I told him. I turned to her. "Fuck both of you."

He stood up and walked around the breakfast bar. "I oughta beat your—"

"My ass? How?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest, knowing how the move made my pecs and biceps stand out. "You stopped spanking us when people stopped calling you 'Big Connor'. All four of us are bigger than you, especially 'Little Connor'."

"Listen here, you little shit," he shouted.

"No, you listen," I shouted back. "One, I've been this way since the beginning. I've not changed, not 'learned' to be bi. You don't 'learn' to be straight, so why should someone 'learn' to be gay or bi. I got the hell out of Texas so I could just be myself and not worry about people like you." I knew my voice was rising, but didn't bother controlling it. "Two, you ain't paying for shit. I earned my scholarships. Fuck, I have overlapping scholarships. I'm fucking swimming in goddamn scholarships. And, if those fall through, I'll take out some fucking loans because you told me you weren't paying for me to go out of state." I closed the distance between us, getting right up in his face. "And three, there's nothing filthy or wrong or bad about dating someone who's the same sex or a different race. I'm not a pervert. I don't fuck little kids. I don't fuck animals. I'm fucking a guy, one guy, and we're in love, so fucking deal with it!"

"Boy, don't come in my house," he said, "and tell me what I need to do. This is a Christian home—"

"'Christian' my ass," I said. "When was the last time you went to fucking church? Huh?"

"I don't need to go to church to be a good Christian man," he answered. "The Bible says—"

"Like I give a flying fuck what 'the Bible says'! Fuck your goddamn Bible!"

"Cory!" Mom shouted, putting her hands in the middle of our chests and shoving her way between us. "You will not talk like that in my house!"

"Fine, my 'Christian' father and I will take this fight outside." I narrowed my eyes and dropped my voice to a low growl. "Let's go, old man."

My father looked between me and my mother and, like the little pussy shit I always knew him to be, he backed down. He started cleaning plates off the breakfast bar, which was something because he'd never cleaned up after himself or anyone else. The fucking prick was all but running from me.

"That's what I thought," I snarled at him, my teeth clenched. I was still spoiling for a fight. I think I finally understood Efrain's need to punch things. As if sensing my rage, Mom's hand remained on my chest, holding me back.

"Cory," she pleaded. I looked down at her, tears close to spilling down her cheeks, and felt myself deflating. "Please, Cory, it's right before Christmas." She sniffled.

"Sorry, Momma." I pulled her into a hug.

"You can still find a nice girl," she said as she wrapped her arms around my waist. "There'll still be time once you're done with this phase."

I let my arms fall away from her shoulders. "That's not how it works." I pulled out of her embrace. "I might meet a nice girl, but I've always preferred men. I won't say I'm sorry for it, because I'm not."

"Please, don't do this now."

"Then, when?" I said, flatly. "When do I get to be myself? When do I get to stop lying about who I am?"

"Cory..."

"I've always been bi, Mom. Always," I said. "I've only had more girlfriends because I wasn't out here, but I still dated guys. We kinda snuck around, kept it private."

"You mean to tell me," my dad said, moving closer, "that you've been messing around with boys under my own roof?"

"No," I said, keeping my tone even.

"Don't lie to me. That's all you perverts are about. Nothing but sex," he said, throwing the dish towel he'd been drying his hands with down on the counter. "All those sleepovers. I told you, Elaine, he shouldn't be having sleepovers."

"Cory, don't..." Mom pleaded with me again.

I took a deep breath. "It's not just about sex. And, I never had a boyfriend sleep over. And, I never did it in the house because I didn't want you to find out."

Dad folded his arms over his chest. "Liar. I know you've been bringing boys over here so you can fuck them in the goddamn ass, like the goddamn deviant you are."

I took another breath to steady myself, turning my head to crack my neck, before I answered his accusation. He wanted the pervert, so I gave it to him.

"Believe it or not, but none of us have fucked in the house. We share bedrooms, remember? Nope, no fucking in the house, we used your wood shed for that." I had to laugh when Dad's eyes bulged. "Oh yeah, we fucked all kinds of girls in your wood shed. Used to have a nice big condom and lube stash behind your workbench. It's probably still there, if you want to look for it. And, before you ask, I sure as hell snuck guys in there. You wouldn't believe how many loads got shot in there. Forensics would have a field day trying to figure out whose cum is in there. Fuck, even if you don't include the members of the Card College Football Dynasty, it's still gotta be in the double digits. A fucking who's who of who fucked Cory Card. Once had I guy in there who could hit the ceiling. Dude was a total blast."

That last bits had been a lie, but it was still gratifying to watch Dad choke on his words.

"And before I forget," I said. "I rarely fucked guys; they fucked me. Yep, I let other guys pound my ass all over your wood shed. How do you think I broke your old saw horses? Don't worry, Dad, totally got fucked on the new ones, too. Those things are the perfect height. Good choice."

"Get out," Dad said.

"Of where? The kitchen?"

"Get out," he repeated a little louder. "Get out of my house."

"Connor—"

"Elaine, I want this boy out of my house, now."

"That's fine with me," I said. "I'm out." I headed for my bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"To pack my shit."

"You don't own anything in this house, boy; I paid for it all," he said. "You aren't taking a damn thing."

I turned around and held my arms out. "Stop me, then," I challenged.

"Cory, why are you doing this?" Mom cried.

"I'm not the one doing it," I told her, dropping my arms. I walked out of the kitchen. "This is all you two."

I half listened to my dad rage in the background as I went to the room I once shared with Cameron and packed my belongings.

I considered myself lucky since my family (well, former family, as I heard Connor, Sr. disowning me in the kitchen) had dealt with three other boys leaving for college and knew to have most of our stuff boxed up for when we graduated from college and moved out for good. Mom had plans for the vacated rooms once they had the house to themselves. She had already turned the other bedroom into a guestroom, and I guess she was going to get her crafting room sooner.

I knew I wouldn't be back here, so I grabbed as much as I could and shoved it into the bed of my truck. But, eventually that filled up, and I had loaded up the back and passenger seats with so much stuff that I could barely see out my side view mirrors. I decided, as I tied down the tarp I'd stolen from the wood shed, that there were some things I would just have to live without. Breakfast had soured in my stomach hours ago, so I focused on that discomfort instead.

I went back to my old room to make sure I got everything I would need, packing random things in one of Cameron's old duffle bags. The remaining bits got crammed into the closet, in the unlikely event that I'd be able to return for them. I hefted my bookbag and the duffle bag on either shoulder and went to find my now-estranged parents in the living room. Mom sat on the couch, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and listening to Dad while he paced, still raging about his sexual deviant son-who-was-no-longer-his-son. Both turned to me as I stood before them, keys in hand, not knowing what to say. I guess Mom didn't know either. Dad did.

"Leave, now." He placed his hands on the couch behind where Mom sat. "Or, I will call the police and have you removed."

I sighed. "I'm gone," I said with a mock salute and was about to remove myself from their presence. However, the Christmas tree, all covered in lights and ornaments, caught my eye. I turned and made my way to it.

"What are you doing?" Dad asked. "I thought I told you to leave."

I didn't answer him as I grabbed all the presents with my name on them and stuffed them in the duffle bag before I walked out the door.

I tried not to think about how I'd left home back in June. I'd been so excited then, but now I just felt so overwhelmed, my whole body fighting off the need to rage and the urge to cry. I forced those thoughts into the back of my mind, walled them off, then fell into the void left behind. My truck started up, and I pulled out of the driveway, not bothering to take one last look at my childhood home as I drove off. There would be time to think on these things, but for now, I needed to drive away and get someplace safe before I came undone.

~*~*~*~

I'd mostly remembered the way to Virginia—get on this highway, turn onto this interstate, keep going until you reach this exit, etc.—so I pretty much traveled on auto. When the sun went down, I turned on my headlights. When it came back up, I turned them off. I didn't feel like eating, or stopping to rest, even though I knew I needed to. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to hold any food down or fall asleep with how agitated I felt. Besides, it would be hard to find anything open this close to the holiday outside of the occasional gas stations I stopped at to refuel.

So, I just drove on.

It had taken all of an hour for my phone to die. I'd forgotten to charge it last night, and couldn't find my car charger in all the mess. Not like it would matter. I was on my parents' cell plan, and while I paid my share of the phone bill, it was only a matter of time before they cut off my line. I left my phone in the center console and didn't bother with charging it; the music was irritating me anyway.

By the time I made it into town, it was already late-morning. Which meant it was officially Christmas Eve all the way back home. The streets were empty save for a few cars here and there. All the college students who could had gone home, and everyone else was at home with loved ones. I thought about my mom and dad, who were probably welcoming my brothers home, making the sick feelings rise in my gut once more. I tamped down those feelings as I turned down Indie's road. The driveway was empty—no trace of Indie's silver BMW, or Efrain's blue Honda, or Preston's red Mazda, or even the crotch rocket Gio said he'd be bringing back.

Somehow, that empty driveway made the loneliness that much sharper.

The empty house made it ache.

I dropped my backpack at the door, along with my shoes. It wasn't like there was anyone here to give a shit. My stomach rebelled at the thought of eating, but my fatigue finally caught up with me, so I slumped toward the bedroom I shared with Efrain. I stripped off my clothes and left them on the floor. Don't know why, but while I was okay leaving stuff everywhere, I felt odd putting a dirty body in a clean bed.

So, after a perfunctory shower and tooth-brushing, I rolled into bed, letting two sleepless night and a twenty-hour drive lull me into a long dreamless sleep.

I was pretty much dead to the world for the rest of the day. When I next woke up, it was dark once more. I yawned, dragging my hand over my face, and stretched out in the bed that felt too big with just me in it. The lights from the alarm clock glowed from the night stand.

Four in the morning.

"Merry-fuckin'-Christmas," I grunted bitterly, then turned over and fell back asleep.

~*~*~*~