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"Why didn't you come talk to us?" Mum looked genuinely wounded that I hadn't.
I fingered the uniform stitches sharply contrasting my jagged cut. "I didn't know which words to use."
"How about 'hey Pop, I think I want to die'? Why not those words?" Pop's face had more of an angry shadow than a sad one, but maybe that was just because he'd let Mum sit on the bed, and was perched on my desk.
"Then what? You'd ask me why and the only answers I'd have wouldn't be any you'd want to hear." I looked back at Mum, trying to find the support she'd always given me. Unfortunately she just looked confused.
"Why wouldn't we want to hear what's wrong Evren?"
"Because who wants to hear that their kid is a grotesque mutant? A freakish maniac?" I dropped my head before whispering the last insult that had been thrown at me so often. "An abomination?"
Pop smiled. "You are many things, but abomination is definitely not one of them, son."
I bristled at the word. "Don't call me that."
"I wasn't calling you an abomination. I said you weren't one." Pop said, confusion etched onto his face.
"That's not the word I was referring to." My fist was clenched tight enough I probably had four little crescent cuts to go along with the one on my wrist.
Mum looked more confused. "Its okay baby. Talk to us."
I stood silently, trying to get the rage back under control. It wasn't my parents fault they didn't know. If anyone was to blame it was me.
Pop mistook my deep breaths as a refusal. "We can't help if you don't tell us what the matter is son."
I snapped. "Stop calling me son! Since I was born everyone has been trying to shove me in some sort of box! 'You can either be this OR that. Here OR there. Near OR far. Right OR wrong. Black OR white.'" I looked down at my wrist again, ashamed of my outburst.
I took a deep breath before starting again. "All my life has been like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. I'm not this or that, I'm these. I'm neither here nor there but nowhere, or maybe everywhere. I'm in between, not near or far. I'm a truth surrounded by lies or a lie entangled in truth. I'm an ugly gray, not light enough to be white, but not deep enough to be considered black. I'm a palette of contradictions, a living oxymoron."
"So you're different. But no one is the same. What does that have to do with me calling you son?"
I grabbed part of my hair in frustration. This is what had happened when I fantasized through the conversation we'd have when I come out. My father had always had a very black and white view of the world, even in such things as my failed attempt. He couldn't see a difference between "wanting to die" and "not wanting to live." However that difference was all I could see. All I'd ever seen.
"Because son is one of those boxes. 'You are male, which means you have to do this, you can't do that, and all will be right with the world.' But I hate that view."
I could see Pop trying to figure out what that meant. He furrowed his brow and turned to Mum.
"Go ahead, Evren," she encouraged. "We'll understand."
"Absolutely." Pop said, unconvincingly.
I cast another look at Pop. Yes Mum would understand, but would he? Steeling my nerves, I looked straight at him. "Sorry to break it to you, but I am not male."
Pop's mouth tugged down. I could tell he was trying to be supportive but he looked terrified about whatever was going through his head. "So you're trans? You want to be a girl?"
"Oh heck no!" Pop visibly relaxed, but terror crossed back over his face as I continued, "I'm non-binary, not male OR female. I'd really like to not be referred to as either of those genders."
Mum smiled. "What would you like to be called then?"
I waited for Pop to look back at me. "I did some research on it, and I found a pronoun set I like. They/them. It's both genders, but neither of them. It's simple, yet bold." The corners of my mouth pulled up. "It's a gray area pronoun set and I love it. It describes me!"
"I can see this means a lot to you. I think they fits you." Mum stood up, smiling. She tightly hugged me, then pulled back, hands still resting on my shoulders. "Do you want us to call you a different name too?"
I tipped my head. That wasn't something I had considered. The fact that Mum had though, and was willing to go with it if that was what I wanted made me want to melt into a happy little puddle of goo. But a different name wasn't really needed. "I don't think so. I don't associate Evren with either gender, and people I've talked to don't seem to either."
"Well then that's what we'll do." Mum hugged me again, but looked over her shoulder at Pop. "Right, Edward?"
"Uh, right. Of course." He stood and awkwardly shuffled over, joining our hug somewhat reluctantly. "I love you so-- kid. I'll support you, but you'll have to cut your old man some slack as I try to change."
"Thank you." My whisper was barely audible into Mum's shoulder.
The door behind me banged against the wall. "Hey Evren! You wanna play some voll-- what's going on?"
Turning around, I saw Alivir standing with eyes wide. He took in the strange group standing in my bedroom. He couldn't seem to make sense of it.
"What's happening is Evren is being super brave." Mum pulled back, wiping a tear away.
"Brave how?"
"They've done what's known as 'coming out'."
"They've?"
"I don't feel like a boy. Or a girl." I shrugged. "I'm what's known as non-binary and don't like being described with the masculine pronouns. I like they/them."
"Oh. I can still call you Evren or you, right?" Alivir asked completely sincerely.
"Yeah. Both of those work."
"Cool. This being non-boy/girl thing-- what was it called again?"
"Non-binary." I smiled at him.
"Right. That. That doesn't mean you don't like volleyball anymore, right?"
"Heck no! I still love volleyball and I will still crush you in the nicest way possible."
"Then why are we still in here?"
I looked at Pop. "Are you okay?"
"It'll just take me some time, but I'm good. Go have fun with your brother, kiddo."
"Thanks for supporting me Pop." I slung my arm around Alivir's shoulder. "Lets go volley!"
Alivir laughed, ducking out from under my arm. He ran down the hall. I might have been better at volleyball, but he certainly could school me in running.
When I finally caught up to him, I was out of breath. I bent over, hands on my knees, and wheezed, "Dude slow down."
He chuckled again. "It wasn't that fast. Now that you don't have the weight of your secret you should be able to keep up."
"It wasn't a physical weight!"
Suddenly, Alivir's eyes sparkled. "I just had the best realization."
"What?"
"If I ever have to come out as gay-- well lets just say you made the road so much smoother. Pop's not going to care if I like guys because you've broken his brain by just being you!"
I laughed. "Let's hope Mum knows where some brain glue is."
"Yeah let's hope."