Coming out

I... brought something else, I said, rummaging through my bag to extract the paperback I'd been thinking about all the way here. Annie on my Mind. I thought I might read this to you, if that would be alright. I really want to talk to you about it. Let's see, said my mother reaching for it. I held on to it, keeping the cover concealed. I'll let you see once we've spoken about it, I said. You might have to finish reading it yourself, but I want to at least open the conversation. She looked hurt, but I wasn't to be dissuaded. This was too important to me to be talked out of it.
....
I had just finished reading the section about the girl's first kiss when I finally had the courage to meet my parent's eyes. They were both crying, and that started me off, too. I closed the book, and turned to face them.
Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? I asked, speaking really softly to keep the quiver out of my voice.
I don't want to hear it, my mother said, leaping up and brushing past me on her way out the door.
Dad? He hadn't moved since I began reading, and I had no reference for the expression on his face. Finally, he met my gaze, briefly, through pain-filled, tear-filled eyes, before standing up slowly, as though he feared his legs wouldn't hold him, and following my mother into the yard.