"No, that's not fair!" April made to complaint, the amount of chips stuffed in her mouth muffling her voice.

Pelham grinned and gave the chips back to her. April beamed - bits of chips still stuck on her teeth - and began eating again. Pelham knew better than to mess around with a girl who was starving - and was on their period. April, in this case, was both on her period and was starving, for she had not eaten breakfast at all. Not that she was a Damsel in distress and relied on Pelham; she was basically one of the women in one of her months. Either that, or she had somehow grown twice the hungrier than any girl in her period. That was what Pelham assumed, at least. He never really understood the concept of girls.

"So, what's after McDonald's?" She asked - still with her mouth full - with the air of someone talking about the weather. That was another thing about April; she honestly couldn't careless about her manners when it came to her and food. Pelham wasn't at all bothered by this, as he had already grown accustomed to it. There were times where he thought that his relationship with April was more like an old-married couple, who couldn't careless whether the other one wasn't being attentive with their own comportments.

Anyhow, he wasn't going to assess anyone's eating manner seeing as he was practically the same as nearly everyone else. I'm no prince - what's a table manner?

"You wanna eat again?" he couldn't help but ask that.

"Not eat," she said. "I mean, are we going anywhere else after this? I'm fine if you still want to eat, though. Unless, of course, you're planning on revising."

"Okay, let's grab some waffles,"

"I was joking,"

"I'm getting waffles anyway," Pelham shrugged.

"Can I have some, though?"

"No,"

"Then you pay,"

"Why?"

"Because I already paid for our Big Mac here, you egocentric berk, and why would I pay for something that I'm not getting? And I drove you here."

"Well reasoned," Pelham nodded, receiving an eye-roll from April.

Pelham had been determined to come out to her the instant they met after school that day. In fact, he had always been intending to do it for the longest time ever, ever since he came to terms with his sexual orientation. Break up with her. End the misery that was slowly throttling him. But he couldn't bring himself to; she looked really joyous that day. The last thing he wanted to do was see her break down into tears or worse, spread the news around. Though, Pelham never tookt April as that kind of girl to spread words around, but what did he know? He didn't want to stir her animated mood.

So he tagged along, despite the fact that he was hurting himself more. He always was anyway. Besides, it wasn't as though it was the first time he'd been wrecked like this. Nobody knew, that was for certain. He couldn't talk about it with anyone except his sister, who was only three, and who didn't seem to mind that his brother was what he claimed to be; abnormal.

They went to buy some waffles (April resolving that she couldn't stand watching Pelham have the time of his life with his waffles, she bought some for herself) and headed to the arcade afterwards to play some air hockey. Then April asked whether he could accompany her shop for a dress since her family was going to attend her uncle's wedding day. Pelham didn't mind, so they spent almost three hours at the shopping mall after school, searching around for elegant, sophisticated dresses. Pelham was used to this, seeing as his mother always brought him dress shopping with the same reason saying how his father never fancied going to the stores. Pelham never fancied it much either, but he did it because he loved his mother.

Be that as it may, at least he got to spend his time outside the house. Even a diligent student like him could grow hostile towards textbooks and homework.

April got out of the fitting room for the fifth time and hugged the lime-green dress she had tried out, looking quite pleased with herself and her choice. "I'm buying this," she said cheerfully, already grabbing her bag.

"What about the violet one?" Pelham asked.

"It made me look like a wilting rose,"

Pelham wanted to add a smooth remark on that, but thought better of it; April hated roses - let alone a wilting one. Moreover, cheesy pick-up lines weren't her thing.

"Besides, it pretty much exposed my cleavage area," she added, turning a little red in the face. "You didn't ... see that, did you?"

"I did,"

"Oh,"

April was known to be insecure with herself sometimes, no matter how much Pelham kept telling her that she was beautiful inside and out. Pelham could tell that she thought he was trying to check her out, but he never had that intention. Why would he? One thing for certain was because it wouldn't even turn him on. The second thing might just be the fact that he wasn't some hungry, perverted dingbat who goggled at exposed body areas to get himself sensually aroused.

On the way to the parking lot a few hours after she'd purchased the dress, they spotted a lesbian couple heading for their car, both wearing matching cream tank tops that bore the word Hers on the back of each top, along with glittered superimposed arrows pointing at each other. April looked awed. But this somehow embittered Pelham; even the girls weren't afraid to expose themselves like that. If they were comfortable with it - out with their identities in public without a care in the world, for they had the notion that there were people who supported them - then couldn't he at least feel moved? Even in the slightest?

It was now or never.

"Hey," Pelham started.

She turned to him, a beam on her face. "Yeah?"

Pelham's lips were moving but no sound came out. How? He was clearly narked with himself by that point. Hey, April, do you know I'm actually gay and not interested in girls? Yeah we should break up. Instead, he said, "You look beautiful in that dress you bought."

He wanted to slap himself for it. Why was it so grinding for him? He had this sudden urge to run after the lesbian couple and ask them for incentive as well as an advice on how to break up with April without breaking each other.

"No, that dress is beautiful, not me,"

Pelham rolled his eyes, brought his face around her and kissed her on the mouth once, which she returned. "Let's head home now, shall we?"

She had fireworks in her stomach but not me, he ranted those words in his head on the way home while April hummed to herself at the steering wheel, the taps of her fingers making a rythm to a song unknown to Pelham. Effing, cheesy fireworks that marked true effing love. It was always like this for him; a physically and externally normal adolescent, and a disconsolate still-in-the-closet homosexual who was afraid of the truth. Usually it went fine by day, and he would release everything once the blankets were drawn, the lights off, the air dense.

He had grown accustomed to it already, however, that he almost didn't bother seeing it as an issue, rather, as some sort of a daily routine - like entering into his Additional Mathematics class every day and trying to solve a complex Trigonometric equation during the previous year.

Everyday, these thoughts swam around his mind, sometimes even obscuring his view from reality and dragging him back into his realm - his realm, a place that used to be his paradise, and which had now turned into a place of confinement; like a gaol for being an invert. He either disregarded them or let them attack him. Either way, he wasn't hurting anyone but himself.

Pelham and April jammed to Linkin Park during the rest of their trip home and sang at the top of their lungs with the windows down when Burn it Down came on. It was just the kind of thing they both enjoyed doing. Let them be off-key - there were no judges around, even though they drew a number of attention from the pedestrians. It helped Pelham get his mind off of things.

After April dropped him at his house and helped him extract his bicycle from the trunk of her car, Pelham found that he was feeling somewhat jittery. Kind of odd, because he wasn't even planning on doing anything. It was one of those days where his spirits were suddenly at a peak before plummeting. He glanced at the garage; both of his parents' cars were parked well there. Letting out a soft, exhausted sigh, he placed his bicycle against the wall of the garage. He felt fairly nauseated, like walking to school on an examination day.

In the living room, his father was sprawled on his stomach on the floor while Oris was laughing her head off beside because he had a risible mask of a watermelon strapped around his head. Pelham smiled at the sight; his father had done the same thing to him when he was around Oris' age, and he could definitely remember laughing so hard when his dad started crawling around the room for his own amusement, chasing his father afterwards because the mask was starting to tick him off.

"Oh, you're home!" said his mother as she walked down the stairs, a basket of laundry in her hands. "Out with April again?"

"Yeah,"

"You should invite her to dinner again some time, you know," his father suggested from behind the couch, hiding from Oris, with his voice slightly muffled from the mask.

"Dad, we did that just a couple of weeks ago," said Pelham.

"Well, she's a nice girl, and I like her company,"

That was the thing about his parents; they both basically cherished April. And this, for reasons that were only decipherable to him, scared Pelham even more. What if he admitted it? Will they still be the same? What if one day they decided to have them both get married? April would undoubtedly love the idea. But Pelham would be the one to suffer internal conflict for the rest of his life - for an eternity, as cosmic as the galaxy, as he would describe it.

You'll never find out and will definitely not be happy all your life if you keep doing this, said his inner voice. And Pelham always trusted his inner voice.

"Okay, when?" He finally asked.

"I don't know - tomorrow?" His mother offered.

"Tomorrow sounds good," his father agreed.

"All right, I'll go ask her." Pelham shrugged. Oris called after him ("Plump! Melon, Plump! Dada is a melon! He looks silly!").

Pelham suggested that he do the laundry for his mother just to feel occupied (having had too much in his head, he tended to busy himself for the past two years whenever he saw the opportunity). And while he stuffed the clothes inside the washing machine, he supposed he would have to come out of the closet during dinner with April and his parents tomorrow evening. It might turn out to be a haywire event - the worst possible idea - but he decided that he didn't care. No plans; just a simple coming-out. Mum, Dad, April, I just wanna say that I'm actually gay. Don't worry about Oris - she already knows. She supports me. I haven't told Roshon yet, but I know he's going to be cool with it. Though, the thing was that he had planned to tell his parents about himself for more than a couple of times already - he had even memorised a speech once - and he had always failed. It was as though there were two of him, where the other one was dominating his entire body, and he was downright sick of it.

He wasn't going to give up at any point, however. The secret would have to be out in the open someday soon; it was either him telling them, or them finding out - even if the latter did sound menacing. Truth scares people.

Back in his room, worn out though he was - not to mention desiring the idea to just sleep and wake up the next day - he texted April about the dinner in case he forgot.

Pelham: hey, wanna come over for dinner tmrw? My parents miss u.

Her reply came a few minutes after that.

April: srsly? I'm flattered. Yeah sure I will

April: 7 sound good?

Pelham: no, 4 am sounds splendid

April: witty

April arrived at seven in the evening on the next day. She practically hugged Oris when she saw her sitting on the sofa. She loved children, that was why. Pelham's parents did the cooking (growing up with chefs for parents had its massive benefit), while he helped with a few - again, to busy himself. But he had been told to get ready by five-thirty as though the queen of England was coming for a visit.

They sat down around the dining table that evening, spoons and forks gently clanking against bowls and plates, the luscious smell of repast wafting in the air around them. April was wearing a simple outfit that involved a blue cardigan over a pale yellow knee-length blouse. She had tied her hair into a ponytail. Beautiful, Pelham said inside his head every time his eyes landed on her at the table. Effing beautiful.

He might not be interested in females, but he wasn't blind. For all he knew, the perception for facial attractiveness had no gender.

Most of the time, his parents would put their whole attention to April instead of him - not that he minded. He actually didn't want anyone seeing him looking so skittish about something. It's now or never! he told himself. Now or never, Pel, now or-

And he cleared his throat. All attention was drawn on him now. He felt beyond terrified all of a sudden, utterly self-conscious. It was as though the spotlight had been cast on him, glaring so intensely that he was starting to profusely sweat. April still had a smile on her face from a joke Pelham's father had cracked. His mother, however, noticed his change in facial expression.

"You okay, honey?" She asked gently, studying his eyes.

"Not really,"

"Are you sick?" She asked again with the same, gentle tone whilst looking down at his food.

"No, no. I'm ..."

Befuddled looks were exchanged around the table, all except Oris, who was clanking her plate loudly with her plastic spoon in an attempt to cut her broccoli.

"I've been wanting to say this for a long time," he continued when they said nothing.

For a second, April looked thrilled. But the look on Pelham's face wiped the smile off her face.

"Say ... what?" asked April, exchanging looks from him, to his parents and back.

Pelham threw his head back, straightened his posture, and said flatly, "I'm gay."