“f**k,” I chuckled, closing my eyes. “f**k, f**k, fuck.”
* * * *
The summer went on as planned after that. Ma worked. I watched TV. Dad worked. I swam. Elsie suddenly went Goth, but at least she skipped wearing Birkenstocks, so perhaps there really was only one gay kid in the house. As for that, the gay thing, I assumed Dad knew. Elsie was still a bit too young to have the conversation with, so I let it go. One talk per month was enough, I figured. Besides, I still had college ahead, perhaps a whole slew of coming out experiences to, gulp, look forward to.
And then, before I knew it, the day had arrived. College.
Was I terrified? Yes, I was terrified. Would I like my roommate? Would classes be hard? Would I get homesick? And then, fine, yes, there really was the whole gay thing. It was
