Page 251 of For the Fans

My mother is shuddering through hushed sobs, and my father’s eyes have never been wider. He looks like he’s going to be physically ill… And it serves him fucking right.

Now you know how I’ve felt every day for eight years, Dad.

“And you.” I glare at my mother. “Your mouth was conveniently shut, any time it wasn’t gulping back Xanax and Pinot. You never said a goddamnwordto me, never asked me if I was alright, or if I needed to talk to someone.” A furious laugh puffs from my lips. “No, I’m sorry. You saidsomething… You said, ‘You have to just move on, Kyran. Dwelling on it will only give it power.’ Great advice for a twelve-year-old who just told you his goddamn priest stuffed a cock down his throat.”

“Kyran!” My father slams his fist down on the table, rattling the plates. “That’s enough! I understand that you want to punish us. I get it… We fucked up.”

“Fucked updoesn’t evenbeginto describe—”

“I know!” he roars. “I know, and I’msorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry that we’re to blame for bringing that piece of garbage into your life! I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what you had to go through, but it’sover. It happened, and it’s done.” He pauses while I stare at him, shocked, and so deeply enraged I want to lunge over this table and strangle him to death. “I will have to live with the way I handled that for the rest of my life… But I don’t want you to also. I want you to be able to move on, son. Your mother was right… Dwelling on itdoesgive it power. Don’t give it any more.”

Grinding my teeth together, I close my eyes, breathing and focusing on who I am. TherealKyran, not the Kyran they think they know.

When I reopen them, I pin my father with a look. “I want you to say it.” I witness him gulp, and I lean in. “Say the words, Dad. Out loud.”

He shakes his head subtly. “Kyran, I don’t—”

“Sayit,” I growl. “This is the reason why I can’t move on.Thisis the reason I’ve been stuck for so long, stuffing the truth down, pretending to be someone else… Becauseyoumade me feel like the truth made me sick, diseased, or damaged. Ithappened, Dad. It fucking happened, whether or not you wish it didn’t, itdid. You can’t pray it away. God doesn’t fucking care about your Hail Marys or your penance. Say the fucking words out loud, because they’retrue, or so help me, you’ll lose your son. I will walk out of this restaurant, and you’llneversee me again.”

My father rakes his hands through his hair, visibly unsteady as he breathes out slowly. The air around us is thick with heightened tension, silence covering us like a big tarp.

It takes a minute, but finally he looks up, his eyes gripping mine. And he mumbles, “He sexually abused you. Father McAdams… a man we trusted. He did horrendous, disgusting things to you, Kyran. And I did nothing.”

The sincerity in his gaze gives me some solace. Hearing the words,finally, from his lips takes even more weight off my shoulders. Weight I didn’t even know was so heavy until it slips away, and I can finally breathe better.Muchbetter.

No more hiding.

“I’m so sorry, Kyran,” my mom whispers shakily. “I am so infinitely sorry that it took those other boys coming forward for us to listen. And even then, it wasn’t enough.”

I nod, my voice creeping out. “No. It wasn’t.” They both just stare at me. “I didn’t want money. I wanted you to give a fuck… I wanted to be acknowledged, not to feel like I was hiding some illness that needed to be locked away and covered up by this image of the perfect, unsullied son you wish you had.”

They both nod, rubbing their faces, appearing generally worn out. And I know I shouldn’t delight in their anguish, but I like it. It feels good that they’re finally reacting the way they never did back then.

“I just want you to know…” my father croaks, “we never thought you were damaged, Kyran. It just… it hurt to admit that something like this happened when we were supposed to protect you. You didn’t deserve it—no one does. But even more, you didn’t deserve how we made you feel about it. I’m so sorry that I made you feel unseen…”

Emotion claws up my throat, and instead of swallowing it, I let it out in the form of a gasp, chewing on my lip while we all just stare at each other.

My eyes flick to the waiter, who’s hovering a few feet away like he’s been itching to come over and see if we need anything, but didn’t want to interrupt. I simply wave him off, because not that I have an appetite right now, but even if I did, I don’t think I could tolerate an actual meal with these people. Not yet.

We might get there in the future…Hopefully, we will. But it’s still too fresh.

Taking out my wallet, I remove a twenty and drop it on the table for the waiter and his troubles.

“There’s one more thing I need to say,” I murmur. “And then I’m gonna go, because it’ll probably wrestle up some new bullshit that I really don’t feel like dealing with right now. But just know that I do appreciate you both coming here, and listening to me. This was… really helpful.”

They blink at me over wide eyes. And I purse my lips, mainly at my father, because I’m sure he’s about to flip his lid.

“I’m gay.”

Man, that feels fucking great. Wow.

My parents’ expressions are frozen solid. It’s sort of comical.

My lips quirk, and I huff a small chuckle, shaking my head. “More importantly, I’vealways beengay. I was born this way, and it’s just a fact. Also, I’m in love with Avi, and I want to be with him. So… yea. That’s that.”

Standing up, I cast one last look at their shocked faces, grinning as I pat my father hard on the shoulder. “See ya later, folks.”

Striding away from the table, I feel renewed.Refreshed.