Vincent Kinsington

It was my day off. I was in an area of the city I didn't usually go to. I was on my way to the thrift store to see if I could find a suitable couch for our little living room. I really wanted to purchase a brand new comfortable leather couch, but there was no way we could afford that at the moment. Chet had volunteered to go with me, but he had skipped out on a few soccer practices and I didn't want him to skip out on anymore even if it was unofficial. I had checked with the thrift store before I came to this particular one to make sure they would deliver the furniture if I found something I liked.

I got to the store and went inside. I looked around a little stumped. I had never been in a thrift store before. It was wide. There were several people inside, families, women, men all looking at the various items. From the front of the store I could see a large sign towards the back that said furniture. I walked to the back. I came to the dressers first. I was curious, but we didn't need dressers so I moved on. I came to chairs. We had one chair that went with Chet's desk. It might be good if I got a second chair. I ran my hand along the back of one. But we only had so much money and we didn't necessarily need a nice chair so I moved on. There was a small wooden table that we might be able to use as a dining table. But after I looked at the price, I decided to move on. I came to a small folding table and a set of four folding chairs. For all of them, it was only $10. That was in our budget.

"May I help you?" an employee said to me as she walked up.

"I want to purchase these," I said indicating the table and chairs. "I also need a couch though. I called and someone said you delivered. Is that right?"

"Yes," she said. "Why don't you look at the couches," she pointed to where they were, "and I'll mark these as sold so no one else purchases them while you're looking."

"Thank you," I said.

I walked over to the couches. I dismissed the fabric ones first in case they had a leather one. There were a few leather ones. One was a cream color that had some small dark stains. It was worn. I passed that and went to a brown leather one. It seemed in better shape, but when I sat on it to test it out, the cushion was angled weird so it felt like I was constantly falling forward.

There was a tan leather loveseat. It looked clean and I didn't see any stains. It was faded, but I could live with faded. I sat on it. It was comfortable enough. I could picture me and Chet cuddling on it in the living room watching t.v. that we had yet to get. I lifted the cushions and inspected it for any odd stains or signs of bugs. I specifically looked up signs for bed bugs before I came. I didn't see any worrying signs.

"This one just came in," the same employee said to me. "It's going to go fast. If you want it, I suggest you get it now."

"Can I lift up the end a little so I can look at the legs?"

"Sure," she said. She stood by patiently as I lifted one end and looked underneath then I went and lifted the other end. It looked good. I wanted it. But then I looked at the price tag. $100 was a great price for a leather loveseat, but it was more than we had budgeted for. I had $75 cash on me. $35 of it was mine and $40 was Chet's because we were going to split the cost of the couch. I did have a credit card from when Chet's mom helped me set up a bank account. It didn't have a high credit line and I didn't want to use it much. I didn't want to use it all if possible, but this might be one of those times.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the time. Chet would be just getting out of soccer practice.

"Can I take a picture and send it to my boyfriend?"

Her eyes brightened when I said boyfriend. "Of course," she said.

I took the picture and attached it to the text I sent Chet.

Me: I really want it, but it's $100.

He didn't respond immediately and I began to get nervous when a young couple started browsing through the leather couches. They were finished looking at the other two and just started looking at this one when I got a response.

My Heart: Get it. You can put it on your card and I'll make up the difference plus the interest.

Me: Are you sure? There is going to be a delivery charge and I already told them I wanted to buy a folding table and chairs that totaled $10.

My Heart: It's ok. Get it. I want you to get it.

I couldn't stop the smile that came to my lips.

The young couple was just asking the employee if they could buy it.

"He was here first," she told them. "Are you getting it then?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said.

"Sorry," she said to the other couple. They went to browsing other items. "So you want this and the folding table and chairs I already marked as sold." Even as she spoke to me, she readied the tag to say that the loveseat was sold.

"Yes," I said.

"Anything else today?"

"No," I said.

I sent Chet another quick text.

Me: Are you going home now? I want to stop and get some leather cleaner to thoroughly clean this couch before we sit on it. Ask Mateo if we can borrow their vacuum cleaner again. We should vacuum out the couch. There is a super store down the street from here. I'll go there and use some of the $75 to get leather cleaner and some groceries. And maybe I'll stop at the coffee shop to grab me a coffee.

My Heart: Ok. I'll borrow the vacuum cleaner. I'm heading home now so they can deliver it any time.

Me: TY ILY

My Heart: ILY2

I paid for the items with my credit card and gave them the address and Chet's name and phone number in case I wasn't home by the time it was delivered.

I started to walk to the coffee shop since it was on the way to the super store when my phone rang. I froze when I saw the caller i.d. I wasn't sure I even wanted to answer it.

I did answer it. "Hi," I said to my brother.

"Hi," he said. "I saw your boyfriend the other day."

"He told me," I said as I continued my walk to the coffee shop.

"I heard you met your biological dad."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"I did," I said. I couldn't keep walking and talking. Not when the conversation was turning this deep. I sat at the nearby bus stop.

"How was he?"

I briefly considered lying, but I was done pretending to make my family happy. Especially after they kicked me out. After they tried to sabotage my job hunting. After they demoted Chet's dad just for taking me in when I didn't have a home.

"You have no idea how it felt to be called son and have your dad hug you," I said and tears sprang into my eyes. I looked up into the cloudy sky and blinked the tears away. "Oh, wait. You do know. I didn't until then."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry my dad is so mean to you."

I sighed as I turned my gaze back to the street. "You don't need to be sorry for his actions. Just be sorry for your own."

"I'm sorry I told people you stole from Kinsington Plastics," he said. "I won't do it again."

"I already have a job now so you can't do it again. But, I forgive you."

"I'm not going to do anything like that again. I won't hurt you. Even if it means going against dad."

"It's hard to believe you, Aiden."

"I know," he said. "I'm not sure I believe myself, but right now I mean it."

"Will you do me one favor?" I asked.

"Anything," he said.

"If you find out what's wrong with grandma - whether it's serious or not - let me know. Even if dad specifically tells you not to. Please tell me."

"I will," he said. "So you met our grandparents we thought were dead? How were they?"

"They beat our mom when she was growing up. Did you know that?"

"No," he said.

"They beat her so badly she would bleed. And they showed no remorse. They even seemed proud of it. They called me their faggot grandson and insulted Chet. They are racist and foul and dirty. Don't ever go see them. You'll regret it."

"Then," he said, "I won't."

"Don't mention it to mom. If she told us they were dead, she probably doesn't want us to know the truth."

"I won't say anything," he said.

"Okay," I stood up and started walking to the coffee shop again. "I should go then, but remember to call me if you find out what is wrong with grandma."

"I will," he said.

We hung up and I went into the coffee shop. I ordered my coffee and waited while they made it. I felt that strange sensation you sometimes get when someone watches you. I looked around. Sitting at one of the nearby tables was Chet's brother. He wasn't even pretending not to stare at me. Sitting next to him was a woman about his age. Their hands were interlocked on top of the table.

One of the employees handed me my coffee and I was left standing there wondering if I should just leave or if I should attempt to make some kind of conversation with Kiet. He decided for me when he nudged the chair next to him out from the table with his foot.

Apparently this was going to be a day to address brother issues. I went and sat down. The two of them stared at me without saying anything. I took a sip of the coffee.

"How long have you been dating my brother?" he asked.

You don't deserve to ask questions about Chet as if you are a good, protective brother.

"October," I said.

"How long since you've been living at my house?"

"It's not your house anymore," I said. "And since December when my parents found out about our relationship and kicked me out because I wouldn't break up with him."

"I didn't know he was gay," Kiet said.

"He's demisexual," I said.

He spoke with me casually, but the grip he had on his girlfriend's hand tightened. She patted his hand gently with her other hand and he loosened his grip.

"How long have you two been dating?" I asked just to say something to feel like I had a handle on this bizarre conversation.

"Since sophomore year of high school," Kiet said. "You must think my parents are pretty great to take you in, hunh?"

"They are great," I said. "They took me in, helped me get a loan for school, helped me set up a bank account, made me part of their family."

His jaw tightened at my last statement. His eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling. "Family," he said it as if it were a swear word. His eyes flashed back to me and there was anger and hurt there. "My parents," he spit out, "spent so much money on Chet and Kannika, but mostly on Chet. They sent money overseas to cousins we've never even met. They spent money on new soccer cleats every season for Chet, but couldn't afford to get me the new pair of shoes I wanted. It wasn't one time. It wasn't one thing. It was all the time for everything. They gave Chet everything and I was left with nothing."

"Are you jealous of Chet? Is that what all this was about?" I asked.

His eyes pinched closed. "No," he said. His eyes opened and found mine. "I'm not jealous of Chet. But my parents lived in that tiny house, gave me nothing, while they squandered their money on Chet's soccer and cousins in Thailand. I couldn't live with nothing in that house anymore."

"Funny," I said quietly. "I gave up everything just to be with him."

Kiet stared at me for a moment and then he shrugged. "You and I have very different priorities then."

"But you're not rich now," I said. "You have to resort to stealing. You still don't have what you wanted. Wouldn't it be better to be with family?"

"No," Kiet said flatly. He rose to his feet. But his girlfriend clung onto his arm with both of her hands.

"Tell him the real reason," she said.

"No," he said. He spoke gently to her, but with finality. Her hands dropped back to the table. He took two steps towards the door, but stopped when he realized she wasn't going with him. "You're not coming?" he asked.

"I'm going to finish my drink," she said. She held up her cup for emphasis. His eyes darted from her to me and back again. He left without another word. She didn't speak again until he was really gone. "It's not as simple as he made it sound," she said. "That wasn't why he started doing meth and that wasn't why he left that family. His parents aren't as great as you think they are."

"Tell me then," I said.

She sighed heavily and looked all around before she leaned in close so only I would be able to hear. "One of Chet's soccer coaches sexually assaulted Kiet."

It was as if ice water had been doused over me. She leaned back and in her normal voice said, "When he was fourteen, he went to pick up Chet after one of his soccer practices. They were supposed to walk home together. Chet was out playing on the field with some other kids even though practice was over. Even then Kiet was jealous of Chet. Chet, as you probably know, is extremely talented with soccer. Kiet didn't have anything he was talented in like that. He wanted the praise his parents gave Chet. The coach said he could give him some tips so he took him inside his office."

Her eyes stared into her cup at nothing. She was silent a moment before her eyes flashed to me and she gave me a pained smile. "He told his parents. They didn't believe him. They accused him of fabricating this story because he was jealous of Chet."

Now I wished I hadn't accused him of being jealous.

"It hurts a lot," she said quietly, "when something so horrible happens to you and the people who are supposed to believe you and protect you don't.

"When we were sixteen, that coach was caught doing the same thing to other boys. It was only then that Kiet's parents believed him. They apologized to him and tried to get him help, but by then it was too late. He was already doing meth and he didn't want to try to mend the hurt they had caused.

"Chet and Kannika don't know any of this," she said. "He'd rather they think he is just a bad person than to find out what Chet's coach did to him and that their parents didn't believe him. He doesn't want them to think badly of their parents."

Just because bad things happened to Kiet didn't negate the bad things he had done to Chet and Kannika and the rest of their family. He had stolen from them on multiple occasions. Chet said he beat him and gave Kannika a black eye. And then he refused help when his parents tried to help him.

"What about you?" I asked her. "Why did you start doing meth?"

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She gave me another pained smile as she wiped away the tears. "Same reason as Kiet," she said. "Only it was my uncle and no one would believe me." She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I better go after him now," she said. "I'm Liz by the way. It was nice to meet you." She extended a small hand out to me and I shook it.

I stared down at my coffee. I took a few more sips before I threw it out and then started to the bus stop. I was almost there when I realized I still had to go to the super store. I went and bought the leather cleaner and groceries.

When I got home, the couch, folding table and folding chairs had already been delivered.

"I love the couch," Chet said with a bright smile. He had the cushions off and was vacuuming it. "What's wrong?" he asked. He left the vacuum cleaner where it was and came to me.

"My brother called me," I said.

"And?"

"And I think we're going to be okay."

"So why do you look like that?"

"Because I saw your brother."

His face fell. "Oh," he said.

"We talked for a little bit," I said. "He made it sound like he turned to drugs because he was jealous of you and your parents wouldn't spend money on him, but his girlfriend said that wasn't why."

"Did she tell you why?"

I nodded. "I'm not sure I should tell you. If it's true, it will reflect badly on your parents."

"Then don't tell me," Chet said. He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around my waist. His head settled on my shoulder. "It's probably a lie anyway."

"Probably," I said. But it didn't seem like she had been lying.

When I thought of Chet's parents, I thought of how they took me in, how they welcomed me, how they made me part of their family and my heart eased. I loved his parents. They were mine now.