That year I came out to my parents. I couldn't have done it without Chris holding my hand. My father wouldn't look at me. He told me to go and never come back. My mother said nothing.
But I'd only told them the truth…Was that so selfish?
-Valerie, V for Vendetta
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Melt
The very first time he defied his family's beliefs, the sun was above him, painting the streets with strips of heat and light and sweat. The clouds were rolling in from the north, and his ice cream melted with the sidewalk.
It was a little girl. Younger than he, at the same ice cream stand as he. She had long curls that tumbled over her shoulders and reflected the sun. Her mother handed her down the ice cream at the same time his mother handed down his.
The day was hot, and the clouds had yet to offer relief. They were on their way to his older cousins' house, walking under that hot sun because the fireplace gave his little brother the shakes.
He had seen the ice cream first. His mother had agreed, and dug into the lonely corners of her purse for the only paper money she carried (in case the need arose), shuffling them towards the stand stiffly, not comfortable being so close to all those people.
Chocolate for him, vanilla for his brother, and strawberry for the girl with the curls, standing just beside him as their mothers ordered.
He waved to her first, because she was pressed against her mother's knee away from him, her curls fanning about her head like a crown. She smiled back, and then smiled at his brother.
Then their ice creams were handed down, and a hand on his back ushered him away, back to the sidewalk, back to the sun. He looked back and saw the girl's face being wiped of strawberry ice cream, her hair being tousled and her face breaking open with a laugh.
He enjoyed his chocolate, and his little brother quietly enjoyed his vanilla.
His mother's back stiffened when he told her of the girl.
She chided him, crouching on the sidewalk to level their eyes. She handed him their family's absolute truth, passing it across to him under that hot sun. She acquitted him for the violation, for he couldn't have known, could he? But he was learning, yes, and as long as he was learning, it was alright.
Then he told her he still thought the girl and her mother looked nice, magic or not.
Her grip on his shoulder tensed, and she cuffed him on his ear.
His little brother pressed back. His mother rose. He covered his smarting ear, the tears fell from his chin, and his ice cream melted into the sidewalk like a messy lipstick smudge.
They began to walk again, melting under that hot day.
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