Part 2 Forbidden Love M&J
"Mom...." I repeated, tears flowing down my eyes.
"Sorry," she surprisingly says, sighing. "But...god. I hate the idea of my ONLY son..." She paused. "being--"
"I'm not gay," I told her, forgetting about everything that had happened. "I'm just..." The word 'gay' sent a chill down my spine, as well as the next word. "...experimenting." It felt weird talking about my sexual orientation with my homophobic mother.
"Malik..." she sighed, wiping her face and sitting next to me. "...I've done way too much to prevent you from becoming like--" I couldn't believe her. I wanted to slap her right there.
"Mom!" I cried. "What are you talking about?! I'm not sick."
"But, Malik--"
"Being gay is not a disease," I firmly stated.
"But it is a sin," my mom told me. "And you can get HIV--"
"You can get HIV if you're straight, too!" I blurted. "Why can't you accept me the way I am?!"
"Because, Malik," she began. "I don't want you to go through what I went through growing up."
"What do you--"
"When I was your age..." she breathed, closing her eyes. "I thought I was bisexual. My mother hated the idea, and everyone teased me for it. I was tormented for years, until I met your dad and gave up all that same-sex bullshit." My jaw fell open.
"I'm...I'm not LIKE you, though," I told her, wiping my tears. "I don't care what people think of me. If they don't like me..." I got beside myself. "...then FUCK them." My mom raised her hand to punish me, but stopped.
"Look," she said, standing up. "I don't wanna see you get hurt...like I did. Okay?" I nodded, angry at her ignorance. "Okay. Bye." She walked to the door.
"Mom?" I said, forcing her to look at me. "Am I still grounded?"
"Uhhh..." she said, her hand on the doorknob. "...no. But...just remember what I said, alright?"
"Yess," I groaned, hiding my anger.
So that night, I lay in bed thinking. I thought about Jordan. I thought about my mom, and even my dad.
Everyone was telling me something different. My heart told me to be gay. My mom told me to be straight. Jordan just told me not to tell anyone about us or him. And my dad...he was telling me a bunch of things. He told me that he was disappointed, and that I was a disgrace. I just couldn't take it. I wanted to take a knife and just stick it into my chest.
The Next Day...
"Malik," whispered a voice from behind my locker door. "Hey!"
I rolled my eyes, and closed the locker, immediately knowing who it was. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Whoa!" he chuckled, leaning against the locker with a smile. "What's wrong with YOU, babe?"
"You don't get it, do you?" I said, walking away, with him on my tail.
"No, not really," he joked. "What's wrong, babe?"
"Stop fuckin' calling me that!" I blurted out. Just then, I felt a tap on my ass. "What the--" I turned around to see one of my supposedly close friends.
"Faggot!" he laughed, walking past Jordan. This angered him, and without second thought, he tackled my friend.
"Don't you EVER fuckin' call him that again, you fuckin' douche bag!" He punched him one good time in the face, spilling blood on the white floor. There was a crowd around us three, and I was embarrassed.
Eventually, an administrator came along and dragged Jordan off of my other friend. All four of us went to principal's office.
"What the hell do you think you're doing out there?" blurted Dr. Kilgore. "I don't like this fighting bullshit."
"Sir," pleaded Jordan. I rolled my eyes. "This prick over here--" he paused because of Dr. Kilgore's face. "--excuse me. But...this guy was harassing Malik. He came by and slapped his...butt and called him a fag." He kinda smiled a bit when he said 'butt'. Probably because he was so eager to get in my jeans.
"Is this true?" said the man, looking to me.
"Well...yeah, but...I don't really--"
"Young man," he sternly said. "Bullying is bad; no exceptions. And you..." he pointed to my old friend. "...I should call your parents, but this isn't Middle School. I'm not required to give a damn about any of you."
Okay. Long story short, we all had to go home. And for some reason, we walked home together since we lived in the same neighborhood.
"So you really are gay?" said Joel (my friend), holding his pained face.
Sighing, I said, "No. But I don't wanna talk about it right now."
"Oh..." he said, standing in between me and Jordan. "Well, I'm sorry about what I did."
"Fuck you," said Jordan, spitting on the ground.
"I'm trying to say SORRY!" Joel exclaimed, stopping. We all stopped walking.
"I don't care," Jordan said meanly. "You don't mess with my boyfriend and get away with it, ya fuckin' prick."
"So you ARE faggots!" laughed Joel, forcing Jordan to jump on him again. We were on the sidewalk, and I looked around to see if anyone was watching. "Go ahead. Punch me, you motherfucking faggot."
Jordan sighed, and got up, staring at Joel. "What's the matter?" tempted Joel. "Why you bein' a bitch now?" Just when I thought everything was okay, Jordan punched Joel in the jaw as hard as he could, and I just gasped with my hands over my mouth.
To Be Continued....
