Blaine froze. He’d just been sneaking for a late night snack but hadn’t realized that his parents were still in the kitchen. Now he couldn’t care less about the pretzels in the cabinet. As he slowly made his way to the open door, he made sure to stay out of sight to hear his father’s reply.

“I- I don’t know why that’s what you jumped to.”

Blaine didn’t know how the conversation had come to this. Sure, he’d figured this out about himself last summer, right before eighth grade, but he thought he had kept it under wraps pretty well.

“Craig, you know you’ve wondered it before. What would you do if he came out to us?”

Blaine heard a loud sigh and a squeak, meaning his father had sunk into a chair. Blaine could picture him with his elbow on the table and fist propping up his head.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I don’t want to think about it, to be honest. We raised him the same as Jonathan, didn’t we?”

“They’ve always been so different, though. I’m just saying it’s something we may have to think about.”

Blaine’s head was reeling as he scurried back upstairs to his room. His mom knew, of course she knew. And his father sounded…not thrilled about the idea, but not as angry as he could have been. Maybe it was time to tell them the real reason he was thrown into so many lockers last year.