LOCATION: Various / Travelers Rest, SC DATE: March 31st TIME: Various TRIGGERS: abuse, homophobia (implied - there’s like one sentence about his dad and then the last paragraph where he’s ‘talking’ to his sister.) MENTIONS: @jackfuckingmonday CLOSED
Henry should have cancelled on his parents when he had the chance. The last few days had been hectic, and he was exhausted. Classes started back up tomorrow; he was not ready for them after a long weekend of flights, games, and celebrations. He had already promised his mom he would be back, and he knew that his dad would have been annoyed at him for cancelling plans last minute. Henry would find an excuse to get back to Palmetto as quickly as possible, even if he had to fake an emergency. At least all his homework was finished, so that was one less thing he needed to worry about. Henry hadn’t actually thought about the consequences of his actions on Friday night and what it might mean for Sunday church with his parents, but now it was a problem he needed to be handled. Well, Friday was fun, if nothing else; maybe not the flight and losing the match, everything else was though. He wasn’t exactly complaining, at least.
Sitting in his car, he looked at his reflection once more. There were obvious lines where the concealer was, but he couldn’t help that. Henry grabbed the scarf in the seat beside him and put it around his neck. Technically, it was too warm to wear it, he didn’t have a choice though. God, this was so obvious what he was trying to do. Henry hoped his parents were stupid enough to not ask. He walked up to his house, a deep feeling of anxiousness boiling up in him. He saw his mom at the door, she ran out, barefooted, to greet him—as if she didn’t live less than an hour away and couldn’t visit him if she wanted to. He bit back the bitter feeling about his mom away and gave her a hug. He knew this was all show for the neighbors anyway. It always was.
“How was your break?” she asked, arm around his shoulders. Henry fought the urge to panic.
“Busy. Professors like to give homework over break. So, I worked on that, then had practice every day, and then the game was on Friday. It feels less like a break and more like a small vacation from seeing the rest of the students at the school. How was yours?” he questioned.
“Oh, the same as ever. Got some planning for events at the church done, went to the movies with my friends, worked on grading some papers and lesson plans. The usual break stuff. I cooked breakfast for you, if you’re hungry. We missed having you here for break.”
Henry knew that could only be partially true, though he smiled anyway. He hugged his mom again. Some days he wondered how someone so kind could be married to a monster. Then other days he thought she was just as much of a monster for letting her husband treat his children so poorly. Sometimes his moods about his mom shifted practically within seconds and he still didn’t understand why that happened. He stepped into the house and he could practically feel his father’s foul mood from the doorway. Walking towards the kitchen, he tried to be as quiet as possible, so he wouldn’t piss off his dad more.
“Henry,” the man spat, as he took a seat at the table.
“Good morning, sir,” he said.
“Take off the damned scarf. You’re indoors.”
Henry did as he was told, putting the scarf on the back of the chair and praying to god that his dad didn’t notice the makeup. Luckily, he didn’t seem to, and he relaxed a bit as his mom put the food on the table. The rest of breakfast went by without a problem. He made small talk with his mom and let his dad lecture him about how he should be focusing on his studies instead of playing Exy—as if Henry was failing his classes, as if his dad was paying close enough attention. Finally, it was time to leave for church and his family piled in the car. The drive always felt either too long or too short. Today it was too long. He’d always hated being trapped in a car with his dad. Too much time for his dad to critique his looks or whatever else he was in the mood to have a problem with. It happened to be his hair and outfit choice today, which apparently was all wrong. Henry couldn’t tune him out, because the conversations always required more than a simple yes or no, sir. Eventually, they made it to the church; Henry flung himself from the car. The church was crowded today—and Henry went off to find any familiar face. Today that face happened to be Monica Browning, his high school coach.
“Henry!” she exclaimed, a smile on her face as she walked over. Sometimes small towns weren’t the absolute worst.
“Hey, coach,” he responded, matching her enthusiasm, even if it was fake.
“I watched the last game. Congratulations on making it through. How’s your head?”
“Thank you! My head is fine. I was given the all clear and it seems to be alright now. How is your team looking this year? I haven’t been able to keep up. Any potential Foxes?”
“Oh, with you gone, the team hasn’t done very well. And I don’t think there are any potential Foxes. But I’ll keep an eye out for them. Why don’t you sit with me today?”
“I’d love to, but I have to head back practically as soon as I get home, so I should really spend the time with mom and dad. But we’ll talk soon. You have my number. I’ll have mom invite you for dinner next time I can stay longer.”
“Sounds like a plan. It was good seeing you.” She gave him a hug and he went off to find his parents.
For the most part the ceremony wasn’t too boring, and he was able to pay attention to it the whole time. Henry didn’t hate church; he just hated this one. Everyone was too catty, talking about everyone else behind their backs. There were some things that were hateful. It’s saving grace was the youth program, which Monica ran, meaning it wasn’t the worst it could have been. Growing up, that had always been one thing he and Holland looked forward to at church. In almost no time, the people started clearing out, heading out to talk or staying in the chapel to chatter.
“Oh, Henry, you have a smudge. Let me…” his mom looked over at him, grabbing her water bottle and dipping a tissue into it.
“Mom, no,” Henry tried to move away, but couldn’t get away in time. She wiped off what little makeup was still there covering up the bruise. Just at the same time his father looked over—and Henry saw the dark look on his face.
“Henry William, is that a hickey?” she gasped, moving back.
“Marilyn,” he said slowly, “I just remembered something I have to do at home with Henry. If you could catch a ride with someone, I’d appreciate it. Henry, go to the car. Now.”
Henry really should have stayed in Palmetto, but he listened to his dad, knowing what would happen if he didn’t. There were photos of he and Jack online from after the game and at the airport. Surely his dad hadn’t seen them. William had never taken an interest in his son’s life. As soon as the car started and they were out of the church parking lot, Henry spoke.
“Dad, I—” he started.
“How dare you make a fool out of me. Showing up to church of all places, looking like you do. Do you know that this entire town looks at us as a family? You’re way more trouble than you are worth. I have to deal with you and the crushing disappointment you’ve always been. And don’t get me started with your sister. What the fuck did I do to deserve you as a child?” William was shouting, though at least he seemed too angry to reach out and grab Henry. He kept going; Henry tuned him out. All of his dad’s speeches sounded the exact same. “I hope to god you’re not at that school slutting around. I won’t hesitate to cut you off if I even catch wind of you causing trouble.” So, he didn’t know who Henry was kissing. “Is she your girlfriend? Who is this woman you’re kissing? I deserve to meet her. Next Sunday.”
“I can’t next Sun—”
“You’ll do as I say. Now get in the fucking house.” Henry hadn’t even realized they were home already.
“I really should be getting back to school soon.”
“Get in the house.”
Henry listened, his heart growing heavy with every step. The second he walked in, Wednesday was at his side. He gave her a pet on the head and told her to go to his room. He’d be fine; it wasn’t like his dad hadn’t been angry before. The black dog whined, then gave Henry’s hand a lick, and walked out of the room. His dad made quick work of the punishment and stormed off to his office to grab a drink. Which meant Henry had less than a half an hour to get out of here. He went up to his room, giving Wednesday some more pets on the head, wishing that he could take her back with him more than anything. Maybe he could talk to Betsy about that, since the only reason he had the dog in the first place was so he’d stop sleeping in his sister’s room when he was still in eight grade. Henry grabbed a few books and headed down the hallway, to the door at the end that was never open anymore. The pink and black H on the door contrasted to the blue and white one on his own door. He opened it and stepped inside.
It was almost like stepping into a time machine. Back to junior year. The posters of bands and shows Holland was obsessing at the time covering the walls. CDs strung about, with clothing. He was surprised that his dad hadn’t gotten rid of this stuff already. Then again, it was a reminder of his failure or a reminder to Henry not to mess up. Getting rid of it meant that he had to admit his failure. Maybe he was hoping Holland would come back, admit he was right, and things would go back to normal. Henry used to think that too. When the pain of her departure was fresh. She’ll be back in a few days, he’d thought at the time. He’d been wrong. Dust collected on every surface. He looked back, but Wednesday sat at the doorway, not coming inside the room. She missed Hol too. For the first time all day, he let himself cry. He missed his sister so much. Even as happy as he was at Palmetto, playing Exy, learning, hanging with Jack, none of it would ever fill the void that was left in his chest when she left. Henry wasn’t sure seeing Hol again would even fix that. Holland leaving left a deep scar. For a little bit, he stood and cried. Then he wiped his tears, looked around once more—spotting something that he’d never noticed before. On her bookshelf, there was a rainbow flag pin. He crossed the room and picked it up, putting it in his pocket. He searched the room again, finding a few more pride themed things and taking them as well.
“I miss you,” he whispered. “But why did you make me feel ashamed for something you were too? I was twelve. I felt so alone. And you told me to hide it, that it was better to not feel that way at all. You told me to be normal. Hol, I am normal.” Henry wiped another tear away. “You’d like Jack. They make me feel like you did, except I don’t feel like I have to hide any part of who I am.” For a moment he let the words linger in the air, as if he was talking to a ghost. “I’m going to find you.”