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away.
    â€œYou are still upset about that kiss, aren’t you?”
    â€œSort of.”
    Todd is evasive. Papa Dean will not let Todd escape telling him about his anxiety. “Why does the kiss bother you this much? It just looked like the two of you were having some fun.”
    Todd’s eyes darken. “It may have looked like fun to you, but as sure as Hadrian was gay, it didn’t look that way to Anthony.”
    â€œAh, Anthony.”
    â€œYeah, Frank’s boyfriend. How could Frank kiss me like that in front of him? That’s the way you kiss your boyfriend! Not your best friend.”
    â€œSo, you’re worried about Anthony’s feelings, then?” Dean is not convinced.
    â€œYes—no.” Todd knows better than to lie to Dean. Papa Dean always has a way of wriggling the truth out of him. “I’m worried about all the hateful rumors he’s going to spread when we go back to school.”
    Papa Dean is concerned. “Does this happen a lot?”
    â€œEvery time Frank does something stupid like that in front of one of his boyfriends.” Exasperated, Todd says, “Everybody he has ever dated hates me! And they have all called me horrible names behind my back. Last year, Iggy told everyone I was a strai .”
    â€œA strai ?” Dean asks, angered. “I hate that word! It’s so derogatory. It’s no one’s fault if he’s born straight. He’s to be pitied, not mocked.”
    â€œAnd then,” Todd barges on to avoid discussing Iggy’s accusation, “Frank avoided me for six weeks because Iggy made him choose between him and me. The same thing is going to happen with Anthony; I just know it!”
    Although sensitive about the topic, Dean will not let Todd pass over such a volatile accusation. “Whoa, back up, son. Have his boyfriends accused you of being straight?”
    â€œIggy told everyone I was a strai —a cu—cunt—hammer—.” Todd closes his eyes, trying not to cry. “And he’s not the only one. Just about every boy Frank’s ever dated has said that about me.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he adds, “They never say it to my face, of course, but Crystal tells me everything.”
    â€œIs Frank aware of this?”
    Todd shrugs.
    â€œI plan to ask him,” Dean says.
    Todd opens his eyes, fear evident. “Please, Papa Dean—no.” He sighs. “It’s going to be strained enough between Frank and me as it is. After he’s done talking to Anthony, I’m willing to bet you won’t be seeing me around here for a good month—at the very least.” Looking down at his feet, Todd concludes, “Anthony is not the type to put up with competition.”
    Dean turns grim. “That explains all those times you’ve been absent from our house the past few years.” He shakes his head. “That is not to happen anymore.” Lifting Todd’s chin to look at him, Dean says, “I promised your father I’d keep an eye on you. How can I do that if you’re avoiding my house? Promise me you’ll come over at least once a week.”
    â€œBut—,” Todd stutters.
    â€œNo buts.” Papa Dean is stern. “Sunday dinner is the easiest. Promise me Sunday dinner at the very least.”
    â€œPapa Dean—Frank’s boyfriend will nev—”
    â€œFrank’s boyfriends come and go like the wind through foliage. You are a son to me.” Refusing any argument, Dean adds, “Frank can tell his boyfriends what he should have been telling them all along.” Todd looks up quizzically. “That you are like a brother to him!” Taking a moment to calm down, Dean finds his smile. “So, Sunday supper?”
    Todd smiles, relieved he doesn’t have to lose touch with Papa Dean. “Thanks, Papa Dean!”
    â€œTry not to let petty, jealous slurs hurt you. Surely you can see the