“I asked you a question. What are you doing here? Why the hell are you doing this?” Mr. Carroll demanded, his voice even more severe. At last, Wesley came back and I breathed a sigh of relief, but Mr. Carroll redirected his anger at Wesley. “Just what the hell are you trying to prove? What is wrong with you? I told you not to bring him,” he said, sneering at me. “Just the sight of him is disgusting! You had no right….”
“Shut up,” Wesley said, his voice edged with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you? If you don’t like it, just ignore us. Better yet, don’t even talk to us. Go to hell,” Wesley growled, taking my hand and turning his back to his father.
Mr. Carroll slapped our hands apart and stepped into Wesley’s face. He was at least six inches taller, but Wesley stared up at him defiantly.
“You think this is funny? I told you not to bring that little faggot here,” Mr. Carroll snapped.
Wesley’s eyes sparked and he pushed his dad back. “Don’t you fucking say that! Don’t you ever say that!” Wesley shouted.
Mrs. Carroll and Scott stepped in at the same time, restraining Mr. Carroll and Wesley, respectively.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scott shouted, staring at his father. “I wanted them here, so if you’ve got a problem with it, come to me!”
“Scott!” Mrs. Carroll interrupted, surprised by her elder son’s outburst. Perhaps she was expecting this confrontation with Wesley, but not with Scott. She looked around embarrassedly; the argument between Mr. Carroll and me had turned into a spectacle. Michele was standing by Scott and even her parents were in the near background.
Mr. Carroll turned on me again with fire in his eyes. “This is all your fault!” he shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Wesley yelled, stepping in front of me.
I had never heard his voice so rabid before and it scared me. I was a fool to think I could come to the wedding without something happening. Wesley always defended me and now Scott and even Michele were lending me their support.
“I love him,” I said, stepping next to Wesley. “I don’t care what you think, but I love Wesley with my whole heart and there is nothing you can do to change that,” I said in a surprisingly firm voice. Wesley looked at me and I narrowed my eyes at Mr. Carroll. “And it’s not your choice anyway. You can say whatever you want, but I’ll never stop loving him. And by the way, we’re gay. We’re not faggots; we’re gay.”
Mr. Carroll looked at me with a bewildered expression. He probably wasn’t expecting a queer to stand up for himself. But his anger redoubled and he started shouting, screaming at me. But Scott stepped forward and held up his hand.
“Go home, Dad. If this is the way you’re gonna act, I don’t want you here,” Scott said darkly, shaking his head. Mr. Carroll began to rant again, but Scott cut him off. “I said, go home. I don’t want you here.”
Mr. Carroll stared at Scott, then Wesley, then me. He turned on his heel and shook his head. “I thought I raised you better than this,” he said as one last jeer.
“Yeah, we have to thank Mom that we didn’t turn out like you,” Scott replied, stealing the last word.
Mrs. Carroll followed her husband out of the reception hall and Scott turned to me with an apologetic expression. Wesley sat down in a chair and breathed like he had been holding his breath. The DJ was still playing music, there were people on the dance floor, and I felt relieved that it wasn’t as big a spectacle as I thought it was. Michele’s parents stepped back and returned to their friends with smiles. Me, Wesley, Scott, and Michele stood together.
“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Scott said, shaking his head ashamedly. “I… I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry.”
I touched Scott’s shoulder and smiled gratefully. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. If anything, thank you for defending us,” I said.
Scott excused himself and I pulled a chair next to Wesley and rubbed his back. He had downed both the beers he brought for us. Tears were at the edges of his eyes and I ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.
“I’m sorry, Tor. I’m so sorry,” Wesley said quietly, staring at the ground. “I’ve never actually wanted to kill anyone before.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I said, rubbing his back again. I smiled and laughed softly. “You said it yourself; you can’t choose your family. But you chose me and I chose you. And I would again and again and again.”
Wesley finally looked up at me with a smile, when Scott tapped me on the shoulder. He was smiling ear to ear and held his hand out to me. The song “Hero” by Mariah Carey started playing. “May I have this dance?”
Scott grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. He locked his arm around my back, held my hand up, and swayed me to and fro across the hardwood floor. I couldn’t help but laugh and I glanced at Wesley, watching us with a blank, openmouthed stare. Michele grabbed one of her bridesmaids and began dancing, and then their friends paired up with same-sex partners and filled up the dance floor. I looked at Wesley again and he was laughing. The tension in the pit of my stomach broke and I hugged Scott.
“Thank you,” I said, with tears rimming my eyes.
“Thank you,” Scott answered. “It took some huge fucking balls to stand up to my dad like that. And thank you, too, for making my brother so happy.”
I smiled timidly and Scott waved to Wesley to come over. Wesley cut in and wrapped his arms around me. I
