Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 00:00:00 -0800
From: John Henry <niftyjhenry1988.2@gmail.com>
Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 24 (Gay/Adult Youth)

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Chapter 24


I never really wanted to know about my birth father, if I had to be
brutally honest. I assumed he didn't want anything to do with me, and I
was fine not having someone like that in my life; however, after finding
out about what he did, I certainly didn't want anything to do with him.


But I did know now, and it changed some of my feelings about how Mom was
behaving around Dylan. I was still pissed that he was forced to move and
that he hadn't returned any of my calls or messages, but I also couldn't
blame him, either. Mom was justified in her fears, unknowingly so, but
Dylan wasn't like my sperm donor but there was no way to prove that
without confirming that we had been in a sexual relationship, which would
only prove to my mother that Dylan was a pedophile.


I was still terribly heartbroken. I have to admit that I went online and
did some cyberstalking, but I couldn't find anything. It wasn't my
proudest moment, but I just wanted to know he was okay, because I
certainly wasn't. I considered taking the bus to his parent's house, but
every time I worked up the nerve to do it, I chickened out, telling
myself that they'd probably hate me for getting Dylan kicked out of the
complex.


Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and I still mourned
him. On my way home from school, I'd walk by the Head Start, hoping to
see Tiffany or Dylan. I eventually gave up. He likely put her in a
different school or Nana was watching her.


Some time in March, Mom and I went to visit Grandma. During our previous
visits, Grandma asked about Dylan, but Mom would jump in an answer. I
could tell Grandma wanted to ask me questions, but Mom wouldn't leave the
room, instead sending me on the errands Grandma wanted done. I got the
impression that Mom didn't want us talking, and I think it was to stop me
from asking about my biological father. It seemed fair but I knew Grandma
wanted details about that last night with Dylan in the laundry room and
the fall out.


I decided to skip school at the beginning of April. I really needed to
talk to someone, so I made my way to see Grandma. I knew Mom would get a
call, so I went to the nurse's office after lunch. If there's one thing
any student can count on is the school lunch making you sick at some
point. It was so common that nurses rarely asked follow up questions. The
school wanted to call Mom to pick me up, but I said I could take the city
bus, since it would've been faster than waiting on Mom; plus, she might
have told them to keep me until the end of the day.


The city bus wasn't very busy, but downtown was pretty packed with people
as always. I did my best to not get noticed, especially by any cops that
could send me back to school or give Mom a fine for my skipping (and yes,
they do that). I did have a close call as I got on my bus, though, as a
transit cop was checking bus passes and questioning kids about my age. He
pulled a girl who looked to be a year older off the bus. Once they were
off, the driver closed the door and pulled away. I saw that he was giving
her a ticket, and she was visibly upset. I made a mental note to get off
before the bus station and walk to the next stop on the way home.


It was just after 1:30pm when I walked into the nursing home. A couple of
the nurses asked how I was doing and why I wasn't at school.


"I have a half-day, so I thought I'd spend it with Grandma," I replied.


"Well, isn't that sweet of you," Loretta, the shift head nurse, said.
"She'll be glad to see you. To be honest, she hasn't been feeling well,
and I think you're just what she needs right now."


I thanked her and made my way to Grandma's room, but not before stopping
at the vending machines. As I reached for the door knob, the door opened,
and a man in a suit excused himself and walked past me.


"Michael," Grandma said, smiling weakly. "What are you doing here? Is
your mother with you?"


"Hey, Grandma," I said, kissing her on the cheek and taking a seat in
the chair next to the bed. "No, I'm on my own today. I didn't feel like
being at school, so I thought I'd come here instead."


Despite how she felt, Grandma still managed a stern glare. "Michael, you
know you're not supposed to skip school, but I'm glad you're here. I've
missed having you and your mother around."


"I've missed you, too. Between school and Mom's schedule, we haven't
been able to come as often as we used to."


"And has Dylan had anything to do with it?"


My eyes dropped immediately. Hearing his name still hurts. "No. I
haven't talked to him since the night the cops were called."


"Sorry to hear that. I know how much he means to you."


"I miss him so much, Grandma." I couldn't help but cry; I had longed
for someone to talk to. "I called and sent messages, I've sent texts,
but he isn't talking to me anymore. It hurts so much."


"I know, Baby, I know. I'm sure he misses you, too, but you were bound
to get caught sooner or later. Just be thankful it ended the way it did,
and not with Dylan going to prison."


"But Monica lied about everything."


"Does it matter that she lied? You're still under age, and he's a grown
man. That's against the law no matter how things turned out."


"I get that, but I just want to tell him one more time how much I love
him."


Grandma reached out and took my hand as I cried.


I spent the rest of the afternoon with Grandma, talking about school, TV
shows she was into and my side of events that led to Dylan moving out. I
know she didn't approve of the relationship, but she still didn't talk
down to me or ridicule me for it.


I left around 4pm. Mom wasn't going to be home till after 10, so I knew I
had plenty of time. I still considered going to Nana and Papa's house,
but forced myself to get on the bus home. I sat at the back of the bus,
flipping through what few pics I had of Dylan. His smiling face caused me
to tear up once more, so I had to put my phone away.


The bus stop was about a block from the apartments, so I walked the rest
of the way and stopped at the corner market to get something to eat. A
cop car pulled into the parking lot and another drove into the complex. I
thanked the cashier and crossed the street to go home.


I rolled my eyes as I saw the cop car parked nearby. No doubt one of
Nicky's boyfriends, again, I thought. Nicky was one of Monica's friends.
She's an addict who only dates abusive junkies. The cops had been in and
out of the area several times a month since Nicky moved in.


"Hey, Michael," Officer Rafferty called out from his car.


"Hi," I said, a bit confused. "I didn't see anything. I just got back
from seeing my grandmother."


"Um," he said, seeming confused, or so I assumed, "I need to have a
word with you, in private, if I may."


My heart began to race. Was he here to ask me about Dylan? Did someone
turn us in? Was it Grandma? "Do I need a lawyer?" I asked out of
reflex, having seen too much television.


"What? No, no.... Michael, I need to talk to you, and I'd rather do it
somewhere that isn't public. Please, can we just go inside your
apartment?"


"Sure," I said, getting more worried. I unlocked the door and held the
door for Officer Rafferty.


"Would please sit down?" He asked.


I sat down, my head swimming, and my heart racing. "What's going on?"


"Michael, I don't know how else to say this," he said, sitting next to
me, which only made me feel more uncomfortable. "There was an incident
at your Mom's store. A man robbed the place. He shot several people,
including your mother, and...I'm afraid she didn't make it."


***Coming Soon, Chapter 25***

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