"It's really him?" a woman standing next to Elizabeth asked. Russell took in her straight, brown hair curled at the tips of her shoulders, and crinkled his nose. Abigail was his mother's closest church friend, and just as pleasant.
"That's him alright." His mother narrowed her eyes. "Thanks for calling me."
"No problem. I thought you had the right to know about the sins your son has been committing." Abigail stared at Russell with a pitiful expression. "You of all people? You used to be such a good, Christian boy."
"He's been out of control lately." His mother gave him a stern look that Russell used to cower at. But Russell didn't cower. He wasn't afraid, or anxious. For once, his thumbnail was nowhere near his mouth.
"Don't worry too much," Abigail said. "My oldest went through a rebellious phase too. Of course, he never went as far as to kiss boys, but he grew out of it in the end. Your Russell will too."
"He better." His mother gave him that look again. "We'll discuss this later. Come on." She turned around to walk back up the hill of sand.
Russell gritted his teeth. The grave reality of what happened hit him. Abigail had seen him with Sal, and called his mother to tell her. But she wasn't even sure it was him. So his mother drove to this beach to check. Like how she checked every other little thing in his life. How she never let him have a life. He remembered begging to hang out with Sal. He was pressured into pursuing a career he didn't want. Not to mention how he had to hide his interests, and was never able to express himself. A burning sensation spread through his chest.
"No."
His mother whipped around. "Excuse me?"
"I said no."
Abigail's eyes darted between Russell and his mother. Sal stared at the scene with his mouth flopped open.
"Stop playing games. Come with me."
The burning within grew stronger. Going home with her was the last thing Russell planned on doing, but he needed to go to the parking lot anyway. So he followed her, Sal's hand in his. Abigail's nose twitched as she brought up the rear. Russell had a feeling she was secretly enjoying the drama. Knowing her, it was why she ratted him out.
Once they reached the parking lot, Russell sat in the driver's seat of the Civic. He stuck the key in the ignition, and shoved on his socks. His feet were still covered in sand, but he didn't waste time brushing them off. The discomfort of having sandy feet was preferable to the discomfort of his mother's sharp glare.
Sal remained standing outside of the car, looking at Russell with a dazed expression.
"What are you doing?" his mother asked.
"Going with Sal," Russell said, staring back at Sal. Sal seemed to have returned to reality, and got in the passenger's seat.
His mother glanced at Abigail, who watched in interest. She lowered her voice. "Stop making such a scene, and come home with me."
"No." Russell slid one of his shoes on. His mother made a grab for his arm, but he swatted it away, and slid on his other shoe. "I'm 18. I don't need your permission."
"I'm your mother and-"
Russell turned his body to face her. "You're not my mother. I don't have a mother!"
His mother, or Elizabeth, as Russell decided to start calling her, glanced over at Abigail again. In a hushed tone, she said, "I am your mother and-"
"If you were really my mother, you would be accepting of me and my relationship, instead of acting like it's this big, shameful thing." Unlike Elizabeth, Russell spoke loudly.
Elizabeth glanced nervously at Abigail again, then back at Russell. "Because it is. The Bible says-"
"Fuck the Bible! I'm going with Sal, and he and I are going to share a future together that you will never be a part of."
"Russell!"
Before he could hear another word, Russell slammed the door shut and sped off, leaving Elizabeth and Abigail in the dust.
What have I done? The question haunted Russell's mind. He was homeless now, and everything he owned was back at his former house. He'd have to return for it. And then where would he go?
"What happened back there?" Sal asked, voice filled with admiration.
At least someone thought he did the right thing. Russell felt as though he made the biggest mistake of his life. "What have I done?"
"Told that bitch off like you should have a long time ago."
"You really think I should have?"
"Of course. All those years of emotional abuse, I'm surprised you didn't crack sooner."
"Emotional abuse?" The thought never crossed his mind. He glanced over at Sal. Who knew what horrors Sal had been through. All Russell's parents ever did was place high expectations on him. "It wasn't emotional abuse. That's just how my parents are."
"Of course you wouldn't see it. You grew up with it. But your parents monitor every little thing you do, right down to your career choice."
"They want what's best for me," Russell said. "They worry I'll do something dumb."
"Of course you'll do something dumb. Everyone does something dumb. I do something dumb every day."
"You got that right."
Sal folded his arms. "Anyways, they should give you breathing space. No wonder you've been out of control."
Russell thought about all the crimes he had committed since meeting Sal. Buying accessories his parents would never approve of. Dating a boy. Swearing. Talking back. Going to a college party. Getting drunk. Getting arrested. "I kind of have been though."
"Growing up like that, most people would be. Trust me, your parents aren't the norm."
"They're not that bad." Russell remembered the Christmas he got the laptop he wanted. And many Christmases before that, he got a bike. And his father taught him how to ride it, while his mom made his favorite blueberry pancakes. No, they really weren't that bad. Didn't they say they loved him?
"I have fond memories of my father," Sal said out of the blue.
Russell nearly hit the brakes, then realized he had to hit the brakes anyway because a car decided to cut him off. "Fond memories? Of what, being beaten half to death?"
Sal rolled his eyes. "He wasn't always beating me half to death. Sometimes we'd watch movies together. He took me to the zoo on my 11th birthday."
"That doesn't excuse what he did. He's..."
"Not that bad," Sal said. "He could've been worse. At least I wasn't sexually abused."
"Sal..." Russell took a breath. "My parents are not abusive in any way."
"Who gets grounded for a B?" Sal asked.
"B-minus."
"Who snoops through their child's belongings?"
"Someone who's worried about their child."
"Who forces their child to be their idea of successful?"
"Someone who wants their child to get a high paying job to support their wife and children."
"How is that even obtainable in this day and age?" Sal asked sardonically. "Regardless of whether they were abusive or not, you're better off without them."
Russell found himself agreeing, though he still felt like he was overreacting. There were worse things in life than controlling parents. He chewed his lip. "Where am I gonna go? What about my stuff? How can I face them after what happened?"
"Maybe my parents can take you in, until we leave for Oregon."
"I don't want to burden them."
"Can you think of a better idea?" Sal asked. "Let's go to my house and cool off. We can ask my parents if you can stay for a couple weeks. We'll get your stuff tomorrow. I'll go with you."
Russell wasn't sure if Sal going would make things better or worse. Sal reached his arm towards the backseat, grabbing his Burger King bag from earlier, and pulled out his half-eaten burger.
Russell glanced at him. "Please tell me you're not going to..."
Sal gulped it down in two bites. The sick feeling in Russell's stomach returned.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
