When he told her he was gay Michael’s mom, Samira, said he’d never live a normal life. She asked, “Are you going to change, or are you going to be a faggot?” When she said “faggot,” it sounded like it was the first time she’d ever used the word. Maybe it was; she’d probably only ever heard it used on TV. It didn’t sound right coming from her mouth. It was like she wasn’t sure she could say it, but once she had, it was a lot easier for her to say it again: “Faggot! Is that what you’re going to be? I won’t have a faggot living in this house!”

She’d somehow learned the word even though her English wasn’t great. It was a word that meant more than just being gay. It meant non-Muslim, non-Arab. Maybe he was ajnabi? When Michael was a kid, they’d go to Lebanon on vacation for a month or two, and his cousins who lived there, who he hardly knew, would call him that.

Michael went downstairs to the laundry room and grabbed a suitcase from behind the washer. He was calmer than he thought he’d be, telling himself that this was how it had to be. It was fate; there was no reason to get worked up over it.

His mom was still leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom when he came back up. She had this look like she’d been punched in the gut. Michael went past, pretending that she wasn’t even there. It was the way things needed to be.

He’d always told himself that if his parents asked if he was gay, he’d say yes. She asked, so he said yes. He got it in his head that if he was honest about it, things would turn out in the end, like the world was simple like that. He didn’t even cry in front of her; he was able to keep it all in by taking deep breaths. His whole body was full of tears, but he wouldn’t let any of it show.

He packed his favourite clothes, his school textbooks, and a notepad, and dragged the suitcase down the stairs. His mother followed quietly like a cat. He couldn’t even hear her, but she was behind him. She stopped at the second-last stair facing the front door. She stood there, stunned, and when she started to cry, Michael thought she was going to take it all back, everything that she’d said, but she didn’t. She didn’t try to stop him when he opened the front door either, or when he closed it behind him, which surprised him a bit.