Page 9 of Ashes to Ash’s

“Does it bother you that the boy I’m in love with tried to kick my ass? Why doesn’t he want me back?” Dad hesitated for half a second, and I could see comprehension smoothing the lines on his forehead.

“Oh. That’s what happened? Did… were you making advances he didn’t want?” Was I? I don’t think I was, because I really think he wanted me too, but if my other dad was right, there were obstacles like his family in our way.

“His family are crazy. What if I kill them? Will he love me then?”

Dad Dory lifted a hand and barked the word ‘what’, all at once.

“They’re why, aren’t they? I should get rid of them, so he can be gay with me.”

Dad’s face softened, as the alarm seemed to drain out of him, his hand lowering to rest on my shoulder.

“Oh, son, I’m sorry. This must be so hard to deal with at such a young age. I know people say they’re more accepting of same sex relationships these days, but there will always be assholes trying to tell you it’s wrong. How long have you known?”

I shrugged, then winced, because my fucking shoulders hurt too.

“Dunno. A while. I know he’s the one, but he keeps pushing me away. How do I get him to give me a chance?”

Dad snorted. “Well, I was like him once, misguided and confused. Your dad forced me to see what was right in front of me. I resisted at first, but he was right. He saw what I couldn’t. You just need to give this boy a chance to see that it’s okay to be with you.”

I glanced at the door. “Dad said he’ll help me take him when I’m old enough, so I can make him love me.” That was what he’d said, right?

“Yeah, sounds familiar. Look, we’re a strange family, not only because of there being three parents, but also because concepts like consent, and freedom, can seem unnecessary to us. You know that Blaze took Anneka, and of course that dickhead Ethan did the same to your sister. Some of us just realise that love takes time to grow, and it thrives when it’s forced into a compressed situation, where that’s the only option.”

“Is that what dad did to you and mum?” They’d never told me much about things like this before, but while he was being open, I had questions. Dad sighed.

“It didn’t start that way, son. I was kinda obsessed with your mum, and Gray pretty much took both of us for himself, but it works. It… it’s perfect. I think love can be any combination of people, genders, and sexual orientations, if it’s given time to find its way.”

Yeah. That’s what I needed to do. Take Cal, lock him somewhere with me, and let him learn that his only option was to be with me. At fifteen though, there was no way I could make that happen. One day I would though. He’d be mine no matter what.

Callum

No more football club. No more after school activities, except for bible study. That was the outcome of my rather brutal falling out with Ash. I think my parents were as disapproving of the fact that he was involved, as they were of my descent into violence and godlessness, as they called it.

Part of the problem with my situation was that, as much as I could tell my parents were extreme, and fucked up, I still had my faith. I still believed. I just didn’t think our God would want me to live in the shadows if what I wanted wasn’t what the Bible said was okay.

It’s not like I even knew for sure what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want was to be ruled with an iron fist, like I couldn’t make a single decision or choice for myself.

Did I mean to get so aggressive with Ash the other day? No. I panicked. I thought I knew what I felt, and understood myself, and who and what I was, but he made me so confused. His lips against mine were horrifying, but mostly because it didn’t feel as wrong as I’d imagined.

I could agonise about it as much as I wanted, and go back and forth as to whether I might be gay or whatever, but the fact remained, my parents would lose their minds if I so much as suggested I might be interested in boys instead of girls.

Why couldn’t I have been born to normal parents? Someone like Ash’s parents, who probably celebrated his choices in life, even the bad ones.

I’d tried messaging him to apologise for getting so violent, but two days had passed with no response, so I was starting to wonder if he hated me for it, or even if his parents had intervened and taken his phone away. Mine did for the first day, but I earned it back with three hours of fucking prayers.

I was in bed on the fourth night after the fight when my phone finally pinged, and I saw the name Lee pop up, the name I’d given to hide his identity from my family. Was my subterfuge a signal of my own guilt?

Lee: However sorry you think you are, you have no idea yet. You will though.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Me: Is that a threat?

I turned my phone onto silent, so my parents wouldn’t hear and take it away since apparently I was a fucking child, and ‘should be sleeping’.

Lee: Take it however you want to, but know one day I’ll be taking *you* however I want to.

There he goes again. Even now he hasn’t lost those creepy feelings for me. He was too much of a risk, so why did I keep messaging him, and why did I seek him at football club? Why didn’t I just stay away, block him, and put him out of my mind?