I know, big surprise, right? I’ve known for years. I found out when I was 10, but I never really accepted it, until I was 13. My sister already knew. I didn’t tell her. She just guessed it. She didn’t even ask me about it. She just assumed, that I wasn’t straight. When I was 12, she would ask, if a boy, that we saw on the street, was cute, just to see what “my type” was, so she could set me up with someone. I WAS 12! What was she thinking?
Neither of my parents know, and I have no intention of telling them. I know my mom would be fine with it, but my dad? Well, you can basically guess the rest.
I wonder how she is doing. My sister. Her name is Sara but the way. I need to know. I pick up the phone, I look under favorites, and I call her.
“Hey, Marc,” she says.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask
“I’m fine,” she answers.
“Are you sure?” I ask again, “I can’t believe he kicked you out.”
“Well, I was the one who left,” she says, “I could have just stayed there.”
“So why did you do it?” I ask, “Why did you leave?”
“Please,” she says, “I’d been looking for an excuse for months. He just presented one for me.”
We are both silent for a few seconds, until she says: “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. I kind of have to go now. Do you maybe want to meet up at Central Park later?”
“Great, I’ll meet you at our favorite spot at 3 PM. See you later.”
She hangs up the phone.
I don’t know, how she does it. How can she just be completely fine, after what just happened? She is so committed. I wish I had her courage.
I hear some noise in the kitchen. I walk out in the hallway.
“What are you doing?” my mom yells.
“I will not let any of you control me,” my dad yells back.
I go back to my room, and I close the door. I put on my headphones and turn on my music. I don’t really want to hear this. They never fight; at least not like this.
They continue for almost an hour, until I hear the door shut. I turn off my music, and make my way into the living room, where I was expecting to find my mom, but she wasn’t there.
“Mom?” I yell, “Dad?”
Nobody’s home. I look out of the window, and down on the street, I see my parents walking in opposite directions.
I look at the yellow clock on the wall. It’s 2:40 PM. I should probably get going, if I want to meet Sara in time.
I grab my keys from the little table in the kitchen, and I head out.
When I enter the subway station, I see, that the doors are about to close, so I start to run. I know that there is another train in a few minutes, but I’m really not in the mood for waiting. After all, that has happened the last few days, I’m not really in the best place. I make it just before the doors close. I am so lucky to find myself a seat. I would never have expected this. My world just turned around completely.
After a few minutes I arrive at the station. Our favorite spot is not far from here. It’s not a place with a view. It doesn’t have a special feeling. It’s just a bench.
After we moved to the city, my sister and I wanted to go for a walk, so we went to Central Park, and we found this bench. We sat there for over an hour. We just talked. We talked about all the things, that we wanted to do with our lives. All of our dreams. To this day we always go there, if we are out for a walk.
She is already sitting there.
I sit down, but she doesn’t notice me.
“Hey,” I say.
She has a shock: “I didn’t see you there.”
“You kept on looking over there,” I say, “What were you so busy with?”
“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks.
“The one in the red shirt.”
“Yeah,” I say, “what about him?”
“I’ve met him a few times,” she says, “he’s actually really sweet.”
“And?” I ask.
“He’s gay,” she says.
“Are you trying to set me up with him?” I ask, “We have talked about this.”
“I know, I know,” she says, “but trust me; you will like this guy.”
“He is actually kind of cute.”
“Then go talk to him,” she says.
“No way,” I respond, “Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” she says, as she grabs my hand.
She basically drags me halfway over there.
“Okay, okay,” I say, “I’ll go talk to him.”
She lets go of my hand.
I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I’ve been with a guy before, but it wasn’t really serious. It was just about sex. Lately I’ve been wanting someone, who I can actually say, that I am in a relationship with.
I walk up to him.
“Hi,” I say, “I don’t mean to be so invading, but you know my sister, right? Her name’s Sara.”
“I’ve met her a few times,” he says, “and you are?”
I reach out my hand: “I’m Marc.”
“Nice to meet you, Marc,” he says, “I’m Daniel.”
He actually has a really good voice. It’s hard to explain. It’s kind of rusty, but at the same time, he sounds like an angel.
“I actually think, that your sister told me a bit about you,” he says, “but don’t worry, she only said nice things.”
“I know, this might seem kind of strange,” I say, “but do you want to go for a walk?”
We talk for a long time. It might be hours.
“You really funny,” I say.
“So are you,” he replies.
He stops. He turns around, so that we are face to face. He takes my hand, and he kisses me. It’s a really great kiss. One of those, that you rarely have.
“I have to go,” he says, “but I had a great time.”
“Me too,” I say.
“Give me your phone,” he says, “I’ll just give you my number.”
I give him my phone, and he gives me his.
When I get it back, I instantly start laughing. Under nickname he wrote: The best kiss I’ve ever had.