His hands were shaking so hard he was sure water was going to slosh out of the cup he was holding. But he had to do this. Sam knew he had to find the determination to be himself.

"Mom, Dad, I need to talk to you."

Concern flickered across his mother's face. She put down the pitcher of lemonade she was holding. "What's wrong Sammy?"

Sammy. The name she called him whenever he was hurt. When he fell down 2 flights of stairs and broke his arm, his mom held him and whispered, "Sammy, it's going to be okay" until the ambulance arrived. When his best friend Michael died, she held his hand and said, "We'll get through this Sammy, I promise". He wondered if she would ever look at him the same way after today. He wondered if she would ever call him "Sammy" again.

"What is it son?" his dad asked.

Sam took a deep breath and jumped off the cliff. "I'm bisexual. I like both guys and girls."

"Samuel, this isn't funny," his mom said in a disapproving tone. "You know better than to joke about something like this!"

"Mom, I'm not joking. I just need to be honest with you guys. I need to be able to be myself."

"This is NOT my son!" Mr. Evans boomed. "My son is a horny heterosexual male! What could have possibly possessed you to choose this?"

"It's not a choice dad! I don't want to feel this way. In fact, I'd give just about anything to be strait."

"That's bullshit!" his dad said.

"David!" his mom shouted, "At least listen to your son!"

"I will not stand here in my own house and take this!"

"Oh so now it's YOUR house? When I was the little perfect all American boy, this is our home, but when I take one step outside of your self-repressing standards, this becomes your house?"

Sam watched his father's anger rise to the point where his face became bright red as he screamed, "GET OUT!"

Sam felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "You're kicking me out?"

Instead of receiving a strait answer, Mr. Evans charges up the stairs and slams Sam's door open.

"Mom," Sam asked, "Are you just going to stand there and watch him do this to me?"

His mom bit her lower lip. "Maybe it's for the best Samuel. Let your father calm down. Come back in a couple of weeks.

"Where on earth am I supposed to live?"

Tears filled his mom's eyes as she answered caustically, "I bet your gay friend Kurt would be willing to lend a bed".

Sam turned bright red. "No mom, it's not like that! Him and I are only –"

Just then, a suitcase flew over the railing. His mom let out a shriek of fear as the suitcase narrowly missed hitting Sam in the head.

His dad came sauntering back down the stairs. "There. You're all packed. Now get the hell out of here!"

His mom ran to her purse and handed Sam a couple of twenties. She kissed him on the cheek, pushed him gently outside, and whispered, "I'm so sorry". She quietly shut the door behind him.

Sam's legs gave out under him. He collapsed on the front porch and sobbed into his hands.