Defying the Odds: A Love Story of Logan and Tristan

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. My eyes wandered from the chipped paint of the corners to the small cracks that ran across the top panel. I don't know how long I've been here. It could have been hours, or it could have been days.

My mother and father have almost entirely left me alone. My sister came by once and tried to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her.

I'm lost. I don't even know how I got here. I feel like nothing more than a ship adrift at sea with no wind in the sails and no land in sight, just drifting endlessly through an endless blue sea of nothingness.

It all seemed normal until it wasn't. It started when Tristan told me he was gay, and we started dating, and I didn't tell anyone about it.

I remember going over to his house for dinner with his family for Thanksgiving a few days after we had first gone out and kissed. We had only done that once before, but we were officially boyfriends now, so I had decided to finally introduce him to my parents, who knew I was seeing someone but hadn't met him yet.

When they walked into the room, my heart started beating wildly in my chest because he held my hand and introduced himself as Tristan Richfield before they even said anything. He looked incredible; his hair was perfectly gelled back into a slick-looking quiff that went down past his shoulders, he was wearing a simple black v-neck shirt with jeans that hugged his hips beautifully, and he was standing right next to me as we stared directly into each other's eyes and smiled at each other for what felt like a lifetime before turning back to my parents as they clapped their hands together and said, "So nice to meet you at last! You must be Logan's new boyfriend! We haven't seen you around town before - do you go to Liberty High? Have you moved here? Where are your parents? Where do you live? Why did you choose Liberty High? Is there anything you like about the school? What grade are you in? How long have you been dating? Do your parents know about each other? Are they going to meet each other this summer? When will they meet each other? Are they going on vacation together this summer? Are they driving together or flying together? Will you fly together or drive together? Who is picking them up at the airport: Dad or Mom or both? The whole family is going on vacation together this summer, right?" And then my mom said, "How wonderful! We can all go on vacation together! Oh goodness! Oh goodness! Oh goodness! We're going on vacation with another couple! That will be such fun! Oh goodness!"

And then Tristan smiled at her nervously, while she stood there smiling ear-to-ear, as excited as a Disney princess who had just received an invitation to tea party hosted by Queen Elsa herself. Meanwhile, my dad shook Tristan's hand firmly, looking directly into Tristan's eyes and saying, "Good job being respectful enough not to try anything funny without our permission first."

And then Tristan nodded silently, trying his best not to laugh, as he knew my dad didn't fully grasp the situation. But still, seeing Tristan, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, being so polite in the face of my dad's behavior, made me wonder why someone like him would even want to date me: hair like a bird’s nest, feeling completely uncool compared to him.

My mom then grabbed hold of Tristan's forearm tightly, and said, “Your mother is in San Diego visiting your grandparents for Thanksgiving. So if an emergency happens at home during our trip, we'll have no way of contacting them unless we call them from our hotel rooms." She spoke slowly and deliberately as if she were explaining something very important to a very young child, adding to the building anxiety within me.

My dad suggested giving them our home number so they can call us if needed. My mom agreed, happily turning to ask Tristan for their phone number. Carissa, who was angrily chopping vegetables behind us, quietly interjected, "They can write it down themselves." But my mom, enthusiastically shifting between multiple conversations, said, "Oh no! There's no way that would ever work! Carissa writes down their phone number for us." Continuing, my mom asked Carissa, "Can't you?" – only for Carissa to answer with an angry "No."

With an exaggerated gasp, my mom belatedly remembered we left our phones downstairs and quickly ran off to retrieve them. And I just sat upstairs in front of her laptop typing this story out onto FanFiction dot net, wondering why things had devolved to the point where everyone seemed so unhappy instead of enjoying a shared pre-Thanksgiving dinner. It made no sense, but it didn't really matter anymore.