“Who’s the boy, this joker?”
My father’s eyes bore into mine as he shoves the camera into my hand. I flip through the pictures relieved: walking on the boardwalk, eating lunch, laughing. No! Holding hands and kissing in the shadows of a carousel.
My anger burns the fear away. “So your cop buddies spy for you now?”
He’s disgusted. “Think I want them seeing you like this –“
“I’m gay Dad it’s not the end of the world.”
Mouth hard; fists clenched. "Then I'll have to change your mind."