In my life, there was only one thing that I could think of to worry about. It wasn't my grades, it wasn't my social status, and it wasn't even my relationship status. The only thing that I ever thought that I needed to worry about was if my parents ever found out that I wasn't the perfect son they thought I was. They knew I went to parties and got drunk, they knew my grades weren't as good as they could have been, they knew I wasn't the best boyfriend to all the girls I had gone out with, and truthfully, they didn't care about any of it. All my parents cared about was how good I was at football, good thing I was the star player, and that I liked girls.

My parents had always been openly homophobic. They were so bad that when my cousin came out, saying that he liked guys, my parents tried to make the rest of my family keep him from being included in any family gathering. When none of my family cared that he liked guys and wouldn't disown him, my parents disowned the rest of my family and refused to go to any gathering or talk to any of them again.

If they are watching TV and the person on the show seems like they could like the same gender, they would go on a rampage.

Living with them had never been easy and everyone wondered why I wasn't as homophobic as they are. You could say it was rebellion, but I wasn't trying to rebel, I was just being myself. I had known I had liked guys for a long time so if I had been homophobic, it would have been a little stupid. I couldn't have a phobia of myself, but I knew my parents could, and I knew they would, so I vowed never to tell them. The rest of my family could know, just not my parents.

Not telling your parents something that big can be tough though, and that was the only thing I ever worried about. Would they find out? If they did, how would they find out? Would I tell them? Would someone else tell them? Would they walk in on me with someone? With these kinds of questions, I became a little paranoid. I would lose sleep, resulting in low test scores or a bad practice, and my parents would always assume I was stressed about the next game. I never dared to think, if they only knew.

I was sure sometime down the line, like when they got Alzheimer's, they would find out, but I hoped it would be on my terms. I had a right to hope for that kind of thing, right? Wrong.

Even though I knew that my parents were extremely homophobic, I constantly had my boyfriend over. They didn't know he was my boyfriend, obviously, they just thought we were friends. Since we had been good friends since we were little, it wasn't a hard lie to use. We just should have been a little more careful when we knew my parents were home and we decided to do more than just play video games.

"You know, you are so sexy," Gerard said to me while lining my jaw, neck and shoulder blades with kisses.

Not if my parents walked in on us kissing like that I would definitely get in trouble, but there had been a little more going on then. Right before Gerard had told me I was sexy, which was something that he told me quite often, we had had sex. Not loudly, since my parents were home, but loud enough since we had learned how to disguise what we were really doing.

Since I had a basement bedroom, the task of hiding my sex life from my parents was a little easier, but Gerard and I still took our time setting up. First, we always turned on loud, fast music so that the volume was all the way up. Then, we turned on a video game, set the controls in front of the TV, and passed the game so if my parents came down to my bedroom to tell us to turn the music down or something like that, we would everything set up do it looked like we were actually playing. Last, and this was really in case my parents came down the stairs all the way instead of yell at me from the top of the stairs, Gerard and I always picked a cover story that would explain things like; why was our clothes all over the floor, why were we laying in my bed together, why were we both covered heavily in sweat, or why could they hear moans come up from my room. When we had first got together and decided we were ready to take another step in our relationship, we had come up with a long list of covers that could explain one or more of the possible questions my parents would ask. With a list, we had multiple cover ups if my parents caught us multiple times.

"Frank!" my mother called from the top of the stairs, "I noticed Gerard's backpack, is he staying the night?"

Un-attaching myself from Gerard, I answered her by saying, "Yes mom!"

Too my horror, I started hearing the stairs creak. Gerard looked at me with wide eyes and jumped from the bed.

Right as Gerard closed the door to the bathroom, my nom made her way to the bottom of the stairs.

"Why did Gerard just run into the bathroom."

"He really had to pee."

My mom gave me an odd look. "Frank, you're acting quite weird. Is there something I should know about?"

"Of course not mom," I said shaking my head. "Everything is a-okay."

"I did not ask if everything was okay, I asked if there was something I should know."

"There's nothing you need to know mom."

We made our way into a silence there. I don't think she thought it was very awkward, but I sure did. It could have been the fact that I was laying under the covers naked, and she was sitting on the edge of my bed a little too calmly, but I'm not sure.

After a few minutes, my mom seemed to notice that Gerard still hadn't come out of the bathroom.

"Is he okay?" she asked after looking at the bathroom door worriedly.

"Yeah mom, he's fine," I said grabbing her arm when she started to get off of the bed.

"Frank, why are you shirtless?" my mom asked after the blanket fell down my naked torso.

"I was sweating."

"But didn't you get under the blankets because you were cold?"

"Yes."

All of a sudden, my mom's expression turned to one of pure anger. I knew she had picked up on the lack of sense that my excuses made, but I didn't think that would make her as mad as she looked.

"Gerard!" my mom called, face turning red, "Get out here this minute!"

"I'm not decent!" was his response.

If he had been near me, I would've slapped him for that.

"I know you aren't! If you don't get out here your parents are going to hear about this!"

I doubted that she would keep this from them, even though they already knew, but I kept my mouth shut. It would do no good to counteract what she was saying at this point.

Gerard walked out of the bathroom, hands in from of him, and my mom pointed to the bed. He sat down carefully, trying to keep himself covered, and my mom blew up.

"What are you two BOYS doing naked in the same room as the other? IF you two were having sex, which I knew you were, you had better get it through your heads that I don't want anything like this to happen under my roof again! Sex is for a man and a woman, not two men! Do you understand me? What you two were doing is disgusting and unnatural! If you think it was anything but you are seriously mistaken and you had better not think you have an actual relationship!"

I looked at Gerard and could not believe how pissed he looked. He looked nearly as mad as my mom. I hoped that he wouldn't get stupid and say something to her. From a young age I had learned it was best just to let her yell then wait for her to cool down. Gerard, despite how many times I had explained my theory to him, did not share this knowledge with me.

"Mrs. Iero, this was purely an immature act that was not in any way linked to sex. We, as two immature teenage boys, were simply comparing sizes."

I knew, even with his great explanation, my mom was still going to be extremely mad at us. She did not find any immature act like the one Gerard claimed that we were partaking in as a thing we should even think about doing. My mom did not care that we were immature teenagers; she only cared about me not doing things with guys, even things like comparing ourselves. I did think however, that we would be forgiven a little quicker for the way Gerard talked. My mom was s sucker for fancy talking.

My mom sighed, "Okay boys, I'll forgive you this time. From now on though, you play video games upstairs where I can see you."

After my mom walked back upstairs, I wrapped my arms around Gerard's neck from behind. "We got out of that one nicely didn't we?"

All he did was nod. Something told me he wasn't as sure about what had happened as I was.

The next few days after the run in with my mom were pretty awkward, both at home and at school. At home my mom was there, always watching me and making me keep my door open, and at school I had Gerard. I didn't understand why it was so awkward, the same thing had happened with his parents minus the part about lying about what we were actually doing. Any time I went to hold his hand or hug him he would just pull away. After a week, I was to the point of crying from frustration. I just wanted my Gee back.

"Hey Gerard," I said to him before lunch.

"What do you want Frank?" he asked me.

"What's wrong with you Gee?" I asked, putting my hand on his arm.

Gerard shrugged my hand off. "Frank, I'm not sure I'm ready for us right now."

My eyes widened. "What are you talking about? We've been together for six months and we've fucked! What do you mean you aren't ready for us?"

"Ever since your mom found us I've been thinking about us and my sexuality. I'm sorry Frank, but I'm not ready to have an open relationship with a guy."

Before I left, or before he could leave, I looked him in the eye and said, "Fuck you Gerard."

Then I ran from the school. All because of my mother, I had lost my best friend and boyfriend. I loved Gerard with all my heart and he just dumped me. I couldn't believe it, but I wasn't going to blame Gerard for this. Our breakup was because of my mother.

As more and more tears fell down my cheeks, I realized that Gerard didn't break up with me because he was questioning his sexuality or because he wasn't ready for a relationship with a guy. Gerard would end up with another boyfriend, one without homophobic parents, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I hated that the more I thought about it, the more I just wanted to curl up in my room and die. One of the worst things about this breakup was that neither of my parents would want to comfort me.