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redder andredder, and a little muscle in his jaw is popping out, twitching around.
    â€œDad?” I hesitate.
    I’ve never wanted to come out to my dad. I’d have told Mom, if she’d stuck around, but I know Dad will freak. But Ethan’s face is flickering in my mind, and I refuse to let my father go on bullying me. I refuse to lie about the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
    Even now that it’s over.
    â€œHis name is Ethan,” I say again. “We were seeing each other. He was my boyfriend.”
    I’m bracing myself, not sure if he’s going to hit me or throw something or just start shouting. But he doesn’t say anything. He just looks away from me. He stares out the window, not saying a word.
    The clock is ticking loudly. My heart is racing and my shirt is soaked with sweat. It seems like ten minutes go by but maybe it’s only two.
    â€œDad?”
    He slowly turns back to me and his face is stiff and cold. “I’m going out,” he says.“I want you and your stuff gone by the time I get back.”
    He rips the picture of Ethan in half and lets the two torn pieces fall to the floor.

Chapter Ten
    I stuff some clothes into a backpack. I have no idea what to do but I’m not sticking around. For a second I look at the computer and imagine telling Ethan about what just happened. There’s a weird empty ache in my gut whenever I think about him.
    So don’t think about him
, I tell myself.
Think about what to do.
    I cram a few cd’s into my backpack. I can’t possibly pack up all my stuff now. I’ll have to get boxes and come back. Wherewould I put it all, anyway? My car? I don’t even know where I’m going.
    One thing I do know is that I don’t want to be here when Dad gets back. Right now I don’t care if I never see him again. Don’t get me wrong—if he decides to apologize, I’ll listen. I can’t see it happening though. Dad has never said he’s sorry for any of the things he’s done. I don’t think he knows how. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head out.
    On the living room floor, something catches my eye. The torn pieces of Ethan’s picture, just lying there where Dad dropped them. I hesitate, and then I pick them up. I should just drop them in the garbage, but I can’t quite do it. Instead, my hand slides the ripped-up picture into my pocket.
    For a moment I wonder if I should try to find Mom somehow. I have this kind of romantic image of myself hitchhiking down to California. But I wouldn’t know where to start. How many religious cults are there in California? Probably hundreds. And it’s not like they’d be listed in the phone book.
    Besides, Mom walked out. So screw that idea.
    I pick up the phone and call Gabi. “Can I crash at your place? Dad...well, I guess he’s kicked me out.”
    â€œBastard,” Gabi says. “What happened?”
    â€œI told him about Ethan.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œWay.”
    Gabi whistles softly. “You’re a crazy man, Derek. What’d you do that for?”
    I’m quiet for a minute. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it. Besides, I already broke up with Ethan anyway.”
    â€œYou didn’t!”
    â€œI did. I’ll fill you in later, okay?”
    Gabi is still talking when I put the phone down.
    Gabi’s parents are great. They don’t ask any questions. They just say that the spare room is mine for as long as I need it. You can tell they mean it and that they’re not just being polite. Her house has always been like that, ever since we were little kids: kind of open andwelcoming, with lots of people in and out, cooking and listening to music and arguing about books and ideas.
    They’re even cool with Gabi being a dyke. Lots of their friends are gay. They probably have no idea how much difference that has made to me, just