XXX
Oliver
It had been hard taking Enrique to the airport the next morning, a sudden awareness of how much I would miss having him around now hitting me. Of course, going back to work would keep me busy and it was going to be nice finally having a schedule again. With the sheer amount of time I had taken off recently, I'd begun feeling like I was a child once more, bickering with my parents and lacking any form of adult responsibility.
Stepping back into the house, I closed the door behind me softly, pressing my back to it for a moment and closing my eyes. I needed to shake this feeling, the fluttering sensation that made its way from my stomach all the way into my chest, a gentle warmth filling my face every time I thought about him.
Was this what it felt like?
Was I actually in love with Enrique?
"Oliver?" My mother called, peaking her head into the entryway and startling me slightly. "May I speak to you please, dear?"
I nodded, putting my shoes in the closet and stepping into the kitchen awning. No one else seemed to be around and I couldn't quite pinpoint the look my mother was giving me. There was so much love in her eyes, yet there seemed to be so much uncertainty.
"Is everything okay?" I asked.
I took a seat in the stool next to her, noticing the smallest of smiles as she nodded.
"Everything is fine, sweetheart. I just think that after everything yesterday, maybe we should talk about what happened again, just the two of us."
My mother and I had always been extremely close, not that my father and I hadn't. I had a good relationship with both of my parents and felt comfortable going to either if there was ever an issue that needed to be discussed, but my mom had always been my mentor, and admittedly the preferred parent during my early childhood.
"There isn't much to talk about, mama," I sighed. "I'm more than old enough to make my own choices."
"It isn't Enrique specifically I want to talk about, I want to have a conversation with you about sex."
"Mother!" I blushed, "For goodness sake, I'm not fourteen!"
"I don't want you to feel embarrassed, but I'm your parent and it's my job to protect you. You're an adult with a significant other; one of the things that typically comes with that is experimenting with sexuality. I just want to make sure you know how to take care of yourself and treat your body with respect."
"I had sex education when I was in school, mama… Hell, papa had this conversation with me when I was twelve. This is completely unnecessary unless your primary goal is to make me as uncomfortable as humanly possible."
"I know, but things can become complicated in same sex relationships. You have no risk of pregnancy, which makes it easier to slip into a state of not using precautions. I want to make sure you understand why it's important to use protection."
"Is there anything I can currently do in order to end this conversation?"
"Oliver, I need you to take this seriously. I've had the same conversation with Vicky,"
"Gross."
"I understand that you learned these things in school, but at the end of the day the parents are the ones who need to be sitting the kids down and talking about it." She sighed, "I'll be completely frank, dear… I truly do hope that you aren't offended by this statement, but if you had a girlfriend it would likely be your father discussing this with you… I suppose I just felt like I had a better understanding of the pressure that boys can put on their partners…"
"I'm not sure if you realize this, mama, but I am a boy…" I looked away from her, suddenly feeling a bit demeaned, even if I knew that she meant well. She did this sometimes, though, and it drove me crazy. She was treating me like a girl again. "I'm rather confident that I understand the male mind more than you do."
It was something I both did and didn't understand. I was fully aware that I wasn't what you would typically call masculine. My overall style was quite unisex but none of my clothing came from the women's section or anything like that, although some of it was technically intended for children due simply to my small stature. It didn't stop the way people sometimes treated me, though.
I was a boy, and I was tired of reminding people of that.
"I know, Oliver, I just-"
"My sex life is something I need to remain my own business, okay? Please respect that."
Based on the way she had spoken to me, I was beginning to wonder if my mother had ever picked up on the fact that I wasn't a virgin and hadn't been for awhile. This was a conversation that parents typically had with their kids when they were teenagers, and was one that had been completely ignored the last time I was in a relationship. "Why didn't any of this come up when I was seventeen? It's not as though Enrique is my first boyfriend."
"With that Jean Pierre boy?" She asked, "To be honest, Oliver, it hardly feels like the same situation. He was extremely becoming; he respected you and treated you extremely well. He seemed terrified to even touch you most of the time, I had no concerns that he would ever attempt anything out of line when you clearly weren't ready for it."
"We had already slept together the first time you met him."
I hadn't intended on saying it… I mean, no one plans on telling their parents when they lost their virginity, but she was being so unfair. She was judging Enrique over the person he had been as a teenager and was trusting Jean Pierre over the person he had appeared to be as an adult. You can't possibly know someones true intentions that way, though. Under the surface sat the reality of the situation. That I had experienced my first time hardly three months after my seventeenth birthday with a man that was nearing twenty three years old. That I had been drunk when he put his hand down my pants for the first time during our very first date. That I had encouraged him to go further because I believed myself to be ready. That it had been terrible and my pride had refused to tell him so. That we hadn't used protection.
My mother stared at me in silence, clearly caught off guard by what I had just said. Neither of us knew what to say anymore.
"How old were you?" She asked quietly. It was a question she knew the answer to.
"Seventeen…"
"Did he… I mean, did you… was it a mutual decision?"
"It was consensual. I don't wish to talk about it further, it's my business and mine alone. No offense, mother, but I have absolutely no interest in going into detail with you. We're close, but we aren't that close. I need you to be willing to give Enrique a chance, though. Whether you believe it or not, he really has been good to me."
Both of us stepped down from the stools and my mom hugged me tightly, pulling my head down onto her shoulder. She did appear remorseful, finally understanding how much their reaction had effected me. I wasn't a child, I could make my own choices and they had to trust that I knew how to make the right ones. I hadn't allowed Enrique in the second he showed up, nor had I ever expected him to earn my trust back, let alone my affections.
I didn't want to deny it anymore. I was in love and I wanted to be okay with that, even if my pride sometimes managed to get in the way. He was charming, attractive, and he truly had a good heart. He had gone through a stage of denial that, in a way, I was the only one in his life who understood. I knew what it felt like to think something was wrong with you.
"I'll talk to your father and to Vicky," She sighed, "I want you to tone down the PDA, though, I think you've made your point very clear. It's hard not to still see the two of you as little boys, you know? You might not have become friends until you were preteens, but remember that my sister and Enrique's mother were close when I was a girl. I've known the Tornatore family for most of my life and that includes when she was pregnant with him. I held that boy in my arms when he was only a few months old on the very same weekend I learned I was having you."
I was silent, merely nodding at the statement. I hadn't really considered the effect that her opinion of Enrique had on our families overall relationships. His abandonment of me had divided them to the point where I no longer recalled when the last time my mother or aunt had spoken to his family at all. I had played a direct part in ending an extremely close friendship that she likely missed every day.
It had never truly sunk in.
"I've never felt this way about anyone." I sighed, keeping my head low. "He was my best friend and now… It scares me."
"It's a cross nearly everyone must bare at some point," My mother kissed me on the cheek, brushing my bangs out of my face and behind my ear. "Although I suppose it's a more complicated case for you. You've had a crush on that boy since you were probably thirteen."
"I have not!"
"Oliver, I'm your mother. Do you really think I never noticed the way you looked at him when the two of you were children? I used to watch you and your friends on the patio when you were young and can recall at least one instance of seeing you sitting on his lap."
"We were kids, we were just having fun."
"You've always been so clever, as far back as I can remember. You spoke in complete sentences before you were even two years old, could read by the time you were three and took quickly to learning languages along with all forms of art. On top of that, it only took a few months of schooling for you to be deemed as musically and mathematically gifted. Everything you tried, you excelled at. Socially, though? That was where you struggled."
"How so?" I asked. "I did just fine around my peers and had plenty of friends."
"You did fine in social circles, particularly around other children. You had this whole little group of girls head over heels for you, yet you always seemed completely oblivious to the world. Discussing stranger danger was like pulling teeth when you were a boy."
"That hardly seems like a fair comparison, our family might not have what you would call celebrity status but it wasn't uncommon for you or papa to be pulled aside and asked to do an interview or have your picture taken. I wasn't raised in the same world as my classmates, can you really expect me to see that world the same way they do?"
"That's not really the point I'm trying to make. You wanted to be everyone's friend, whether they wanted you around them or not. To be a part of every game, every social circle, every birthday party… You were so invested in the things you wanted that you hardly ever seemed to notice whether or not the other children wanted you around, especially the boys. Children don't understand things like empathy when they're young and you were no exception. Your friendship with Enrique was the first time I really saw you thrive with someone else, though. The two of you became attached at the hip incredibly fast; he really helped you learn that you weren't the only one whose opinions mattered."
"I'm still not sure what you mean," I said, crossing my arms to my chest. "You make it seem like I had no friends."
"You felt like an outcast with those girls who followed you around at school, did you not?"
I dropped my head, not wanting to answer the question.
"I don't know."
"You wanted to be friends with the other boys and you suddenly found yourself a playmate who didn't judge you, you suddenly didn't have to hide behind your own ego to avoid your feelings regarding things like his opinions. Sometimes I think that was the main thing you had been missing at that age, a best friend. As a parent, it was refreshing to see you make that connection to someone, but I was also there to witness him break your heart, something it's hard to accept as your mother."
"We're passed that now."
The truth was that she had no idea how bad it had actually gotten. The mask I wore afterward may have slipped from time to time, but I didn't take it off. Not unless I was alone.
"I want to trust you, Oliver…"
"So trust me, then."
"I don't want your attachment to that boy get in the way of the rest of your life. You've always been the one I never had to worry about. You have a good head on your shoulders and are as smart as you are talented. You've made a life for yourself that others your age could only dream of and that I would hate to see you leave behind just so you can appease someone else. It's different with Enrique than it was the last time you had a boyfriend and I highly doubt you don't see it. He has leverage over you. He has you reeled in at this point and its affecting the other aspects of your life."
I stopped listening; instead made my way toward the elevator door, hitting the button to the top level.
"I'm going to my room."
"Oliver, do not walk away from me."
"Just leave me alone, okay?"
My mother stopped speaking, now watching me sadly as the doors opened and I entered, saying nothing more as they closed between us
