Coming Clean (Tuesday morning, closed narrative) Tuesdays were almost worse than Mondays, in her mind. What happened on Tuesdays, really? The homework just piled up anyway. With a mighty yawn, Eva stumbled down the stairs, eyes squinting at the light.
"Eva, come here."
"My kingdom for a coffee," she mumbled tiredly as she entered the kitchen. Bryant pointed to a piping cup of mocha on the table as he continued making breakfast. Riona was already seated there with coffee in one hand and the Lima Times in the other. When Eva took her seat, she merely lifted her eyes in her patented "we need to talk" look. The girl simply pretended that she was tired enough to be oblivious. "Sup?"
"This is 'what's up.'" Riona cleared her throat and read: "I am both shocked and appalled at the recent television advertisement I saw about a production of RENT. The show is highly inappropriate in any civilized environment on its own. However, this show is being presented by a group of high school students, held in an old strip club." She paused. "Is this the show you're playing for?"
"Yeah, but it's not that bad," Eva responded, non-committed. She waved a hand. "Besides, they're, like, doing the high school version or something. Thanks," she added to Bryant after he set an omelette and bacon in front of her. She started tearing into the food.
Unfazed, Riona continued to read: "The play has every bit of the sex, drugs, and rock and roll that have perverted the younger generation's minds. The show promotes gratuitous heroin usage and glorifies homosexuality. One of the characters cross-dresses--cross-dressing, Eva?" Eva rolled her eyes. "It touts having AIDS as a rite of passage. It celebrates anarchy and entitlement. The characters simply expect to be given things (such as living in an apartment for free) rather than working hard to earn them." The woman set the paper down, fixing a critical look at her niece. "I don't think you need to be involved in this."
"Why?" Eva argued, forgetting she had a mouthful of food. She swallowed and shot a glare at Riona. "You were the one who wanted me to be involved in stuff like this. Besides, it's so not anything like that dude says it is."
"It was written by a woman, but that's beside the point." Her aunt took a drink of coffee. "You're at an impressionable age. I don't want this to...affect you."
"Affect me how?" She was awake now. Her blood was boiling. Eva smacked her fork down on the table. "I know the whole 'band' thing makes you think I'm going to hit the drugs hard as it is, but I told you the guys and me think that's lame. And it's not like the show can turn me gay when I'm already--"
She cut herself off. Riona gave her a look that was part-miffed and part-shocked. Eva's expression read "oh, shit!" loud and clear. She wanted to crawl underneath the table.
"Evelyn Marie. What is the meaning of this?"
Too late to go back now. She drew in a breath. "I...like girls, Aunt Riona. Like, exclusively." Seeing her aunt just give her that look, the girl panicked and blurted out, "I mean, I've known since I hit puberty. It's not something anyone forced me into, cause who would choose it, but I'm being smart about it, and no one knows, and--"
"So that's where all my Maxim magazines go," Bryant interjected, amused. Eva openly gaped at him, and Riona gave him a disapproving look. "What, Mom? Nothing's going to change the fact that our cailĂn is a lesbian."
Forget crawling under the table. Eva wanted to hide herself beneath the floorboards.
It was quiet for a little longer as mother and son exchanged a long look. Finally, Riona relented. "I suppose I should only be glad there's no chance you'd get pregnant."
"Seriously...?" she responded weakly. "Is that all?"
"I don't know what you expect me to say," Riona sighed. "I'm not in love with the idea, but blood is thicker than that." She waited until Eva met her gaze. "I still love you and will support you. I don't like it," she reiterated, "but our family has gone through too damn much to let anything change that."
Eva looked stunned. "Thanks," she finally squeaked out. "Um, so can I still play for the show?"
Her aunt offered her a small smile. "Well, you're turning sixteen on Friday. I think you it's time you can make some adult decisions for yourself."
"How come I wasn't allowed to make adult decisions at sixteen?" Bryant complained.
"Because you were considerably less adult at that age," Riona countered, amused.
"Fail," Bryant groaned.
The teenager let out a sigh of relief. Well, that was considerably less painful than she thought it would be. Now, to say something to her new friends...