Release

by Patrick Ness

“You are so going to need therapy.” “They don’t believe in it. If you can’t pray it away, it’s not a real problem.”

a snag, as if on that thorn in her heart, a drop of blood pearling itself . . .

Beautiful, Belarusian, teensy bit racist about the Jews, if we’re being honest.

Karen and Renee didn’t officially know about Adam and Enzo, no one officially did, maybe not even Adam and Enzo, but they knew it in the unofficial way everyone who had been even slightly observant knew (and not willfully blind like certain parents he could name).

If you ever fall, I’m here to catch you. Or not, actually, you’re a giant, but I’m here to at least watch you fall and then get bandages.”

“But nothing. He broke the law.” “Maybe . . . Maybe it didn’t even happen. Maybe I read it wrong?” Angela screamed in frustration so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Why am I the only one I know with any self-esteem?” “You have wonderful parents.”

The girl born in Seoul with an adoptive mother from the Netherlands and a father with a completely English name. Who all lived on a farm in Frome, Washington, an actual farm, with actual animals, actual sheep that got sold to slaughter—a topic Angela kept quiet about as it wouldn’t have gone down well with the vegetarians at school. They were, in short, about as American as you could be. But not, of course, the kind of Americans certain other kinds of Americans thought were American.

“You could be a real witness to that girl.” “I don’t even understand what they mean by the verb,” Angela said to him whenever he brought it up. “Wouldn’t I be the witness, watching you tell me about it?” “It’s more like I’m giving you a witness statement.” “Like you saw God committing a crime?” “I’m supposed to be offering my own witness on what Christ has done for me.” “Made you gay and put you in the best possible family for dealing with that? At least He has a sense of humor.”

“Need me to sneak out?” “You can’t sneak out. Your mom has the house alarmed.” “This is true.”

You give off this vibe of somebody trying to hide their wounds, wounds you didn’t deserve but maybe you think you did.” He looked up again. “I’ll bet you didn’t. I’ll bet you money.”

“I used to think this was how everyone’s life was. That everyone sat around the dinner table talking about the End Times.” “We do. We just mean another Republican presidency.”

He paused, then he typed, I love you more than probably any other person on this planet. Including myself.

“I’m meeting Angela after this. I was arranging it.” His dad softened. Even in his worst moods, Angela’s racial difference gave him a chance to feel magnanimous.

Big Brian Thorn scoffed at the notion that full-body immersion was going out of fashion—it was, but scoffing brought in the people who still wanted it—and

“Yeah, but”—his dad looked at his watch, being of an age where he still went there first rather than his phone—“not bad.

He’d decided not to tell his dad about Angela leaving yet. That felt like too personal a pain to be shared with someone as far away from him as his father.

If protectiveness was love, his dad was an avalanche of it.

They do not shrink back, they are clearly men long past being afraid of anything, no matter how majestic, no matter how powerful, men who would take a moment to chew first if their own God asked them to rise from their dinner table.

“Do you know where I was this afternoon?” Adam said. “After leading my completely innocent boss into firing me unless I had sex with him?”

they’re my family. They love me. They are who I go to when things are hard. That hasn’t been you for years, Dad, and do you really never wonder whose fault that is?” “I am your father–” “A father with conditions. I have to be a certain way to be your son.” “Through prayer, everything is possible–” “I don’t know, I’ve prayed for years to change your heart. Nothing’s happened so far.”

“I don’t know what else they’ll do.” “Not gay cure therapy.” “I’ll turn them in for child abuse if they try.” “Someone’s feisty.” “It’s been a rough day.

Well, he’s got his religion and it’s important to him.” “And the moment it becomes more important than his kids, he’s the bad guy.” “It’s more complicated than that, Ange.” “No, it isn’t.” She stood, facing him again. “They’re your parents. They’re meant to love you because. Never in spite.”

Adam took a deep breath. “Hello?” “Oh, praise God.” “Just ‘hello’ is fine, Marty.”

“They’ve been worried sick.” “About what, I wonder?” “That you’d do something to yourself.” “Do you really think this family is worth killing myself over?”

What are you talking about, things falling apart?” “Well, Dad’s crying and Mom’s really mad–” “Neither of those things surprise me.”

“Maybe he’s bi. Or fluid. Like you.” She gave him a look that said comparing her and Enzo was an endeavor embarked upon by fools.

“You searched for me when I was lost.” “A Queen is never lost. She is always exactly where she needs to be.”