“Seth Joseph Brezelli, where have you been?” my mom shouted into the phone. I thought of an excuse haphazardly. “I…I was sleeping over at Carl’s house,” I said. Carl was a boy at school who was in my math class. Occasionally we would exchange a word or two, but that was all. Truth be told, I didn’t have all that many close guy friends. Come to think of it, most of the guys in my grade who I knew casually had been ignoring me. I pushed that thought aside and focused on the here and now. “Sorry, Mom,” I replied sheepishly. “Would it have killed you to call first?” she demanded. “Oh! All the worry I go through!” she went on. Moms could be pretty… well, mom ish. Ever since Dad died, my Mom had become especially worrisome and overprotective of me. If only she had known that I was gay. Dad didn’t know either, but I think he could tell that I wasn’t like other boys. If only I could be the son they always wanted I thought wistfully. Then I kicked at a chunck of dirt on the ground.