Shawn hasn’t told his dad that he’s gay yet. But I don’t think his dad will cast him off when he tells him. I mean, it will be hard at first, for his dad to let it all sink in, but in the end, I’m sure things will work out. I’m sure of this because Shawn and Dell have the best dads.

When I was a kid, I remember growing curious about mine. I had a million questions. They bubbled up in my head for a while before I had the courage to ask my mom about him. I remember that day vividly. We had come from Dell’s birthday party—one that his dad had arranged for him. I watched the two of them interact, and it made me wonder about my dad.

When I got home later, my mom was in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes. She dried the last one and placed it on the shelf. I entered the kitchen slowly, heart pounding and pulse racing. I had no idea how my mom would react. She never said we couldn’t discuss my dad, but she never brought up the subject either.

“Mom, can I ask you something?” I said, voice cracking with uncertainty. “Who’s my dad? Is he even alive? Is he somewhere with another family?”

My mom was thrown. I guessed she wasn’t expecting us to have this conversation, at least not on that day, or maybe ever. She started to get fidgety, and there was something in her eyes I had never seen before—panic. She walked over to the sink and started to rewash the very dishes she had just washed. It’s like she needed something to do with her hands. I followed her to the sink.

She looked out the window, but in her mind’s eye, she was far away from here. I could almost hear her heart beat. Her chest moved up and down quickly and her whole body stiffened. I had never seen my mom so rattled before.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

And then something happened that I didn’t think was possible: my mom was crying. I had made my mom cry! The uneasiness that filled me would last for days. And even now when I think back to that moment, a chill runs down my body. I never ever wanted to hurt my mom or drive her to the point of tears. I didn’t even know that could be done. So I told her I wasn’t ready to meet him and I never brought it up again.

Dell pleading brings me out of my thoughts and back to the table. “C’mon, y’all. I need ten bucks to get lunch. Who got me?” Dell asks, dragging me back to the present.

“Nobody but Jesus. So go ask him for money,” Naija replies as the guys join our table.