The dinner went quiet - like it usually did.
Two men were sitting at the table, with barely a word exchanged between them the entire time. Things were like that very often between Stavros and his nineteen-year-old stepson, Barry. Just the clinking of silverware and an awkward cough here and there. The situation wasn't tense - just colder and more impersonal than it needed to be.
The two of them were an unlikely family. For most of his childhood and teenage years, Barry grew up with his mother and biological father. The marriage of his parents was not a good one, and the divorce came way longer than it should have, at least in Barry's opinion. Shortly after the divorce, Barry's mother started dating again and found a man named Stavros. Barry didn't show it, but he was glad that she found him. Stavros was the exact opposite of his father - caring, sensitive and friendly. It was just what Barry and his mother needed.
That was why it came as a big surprise to everybody when Barry's mother just vanished without a trace one day. A couple days before Barry's birthday, she packed up her clothes, jewelry, and all of her important personal items and left the house in the early morning. No note, no explanation, nothing. Stavros and Barry were shocked, to say the least. They called all the hospitals and police departments in the area, but all signs pointed to the fact that Barry's mother left willingly. It was eventually confirmed by a short note that she sent from somewhere in the Mediterranean. A short explanation with a half-assed apology and a note that she couldn't take her life anymore and she wouldn't be coming back.
Aside from it being crushing news, this put Stavros in an awkward situation. Over the years, he'd come to love Barry as his own. But he wasn't fully prepared to take on the full role of parenting. Stavros was concerned about Barry. The kid had a rough childhood already, with his piece-of-shit father and the bullying he endured at school, and now Stavros was the only one who he had left. So, he moved into Barry's house and they both started their new life. There was no time to think about whether it was strange or not, it was just what the circumstances demanded.
Stavros insisted that Barry would see a therapist to deal with his mother's departure, and even though his stepson did undergo all of his sessions and seemed to deal rather well with it, Stavros could sense that something was wrong. Since his mother left, Barry started becoming isolated and silent, barely even speaking to Stavros. Seeing his stepson like this broke Stavros's heart. He tried his best to get the boy to open up and lift his mood, but he never got too far.
Time came and went. Barry was now nineteen years old, just about to pick a college to study. Barry was incredibly talented in his studies and the teachers said they loved him. His schoolwork was exemplary - but his loner persona didn't change, he only grew more and more distant. Stavros knew that he had to try harder with him - he didn't know whether Barry was planning to move away for college or not. And if he was, he didn't want to leave him alone with all these issues unresolved.
And also, after what they went through together, he didn't want to lose the boy.
"Sorry," he smiled warmly at his stepson, "I put a little too much salt in it."
"It's okay," Barry shrugged, his eyes focused on his plate. That didn't work as a conversation starter, so Stavros decided to try something else.
"I heard Saturday is supposed to be sunny," he suggested, "How about the two of us go on a trip? Or go out and watch the game together? What do you say?"
Barry lifted his perpetually sulky eyes to look up at Stavros.
"Um..." he grunted hesitantly, "I think I'm busy this weekend."
"Busy doing what?" Stavros asked, his smile fading.
"Studying. A lot is going on at school... I dunno," Barry said, burying his eyes back into his plate, "Sorry, Stavros. I'm just not in a very outgoing mood. Don't take it personally."
Barry called his stepfather by his first name - it's what he always did. Not out of spite or anything, it's just what he was accustomed to. He used to call him like that with his mom around too. There was no ill intent behind it, and Stavros didn't mind. He wasn't there to replace anybody in Barry's life. But he couldn't help but wish Barry called him something else - something a little more endearing. He would never push his stepson into that position though.
Stavros grunted and put down his fork. He gave his stepson a look.
"Listen, Barry," he spoke to him, "You know that if something is going on, anything, you can just talk to me, right? I'm here to help."
Barry looked up and stared into his eyes for a second. Then he nodded and responded in a way that didn't really do a good job convincing Stavros about what he was saying.
"Sure, I know that. Thanks, Stavros. Don't worry - it's just stress from school, that's all."
Barry decided that he was about to end this conversation, so he got up and started cleaning up the table.
"Don't worry about it," Stavros said, defeated, "I'll clean up. It's my turn anyway."
Stavros got up and started cleaning up the table. Barry stopped in his tracks.
"Okay..." Barry mumbled, "Hey... Maybe we can do something. Next week. Or sometime. Okay?"
Stavros looked at him and gave him a smile, even though he knew nothing would come out of it.
"I'd love that," he nodded, "Now go get some sleep. You must be tired."
"I am," Barry said, and stretched his arms, pretending to yawn, "Good night, Stavros."
"Good night, kid," Stavros answered, as he started doing the dishes. He sighed as he heard his stepson leave the room. If only he could read minds. If only he could know what was going inside his head.
***
Many things had been going on in Barry's head. The nineteen-year-old headed straight to his room and immediately locked the door behind him. He turned on the light and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He wasn't bad-looking at all - short, unruly black hair, deep blue eyes, and a fairly nice figure, even though he didn't work out that much. Not a bad dresser, either. He would probably be surrounded by girls if that was what he wanted.
You see, Stavros wasn't the only one who Barry was isolated from. Roughly around the time his mother left, he discovered something about himself. Girls didn't interest him at all. Come to think of it, neither did boys his age. He liked men - much older men. Barry was gay, and he had major daddy issues.
