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My Hero
By : MissiYoung
Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR
Views: 1383 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-My Hero
- 1
Thoughts in italics

I did as my mom and dads had suggested and took a small hand held mirror with me to the podium when it was time to give my speech. I set it down, reflective side up, so that every time I got nervous I could look down into it and pretend I was at home practicing at my vanity. I took a deep breath and deliberately unfocused my vision as I scanned across the thousands of people and live video cameras watching me. I certainly never expected to be doing this. I let out my breath and took another before refocusing my gaze and looking down at the essay that had brought me here. I read the first line silently before looking up again and starting to speak.
“My name is Isabella Swan, and I represent Phoenix, Arizona. When we were told to write an essay about our hero in Behavioral Studies I admit that I thought the topic was pretty generic. It sounded like something straight out of the second grade and I kind of resented it. When I got home I went all emo on my mom, who called my dad so I could whine at him instead; apparently it was his turn. I whined about that, too.”
I paused when people started to laugh at that, quirking a smile of my own in response.
“It was my step-dad who really got me thinking, though. He told me that everyone defined hero differently. Some people consider their lover a hero, while for other people it’s military personnel or first responders or cancer survivors. I had two months for this essay so I put it out of my mind for the most part. About three weeks went by where I started and threw away my essay a dozen times when my mom, her husband and I started packing for our Christmas trip. We take the same trip every year up to Forks, Washington, to see my dad. When we saw him waiting for us at the airport in Seattle with a huge smile on his face I was happy to be there, even if it was freezing outside and I knew I’d fall more often than not. I’m not exactly graceful.”
I paused again for laughter, joining in this time.
“I’m a danger to those around me in the right conditions.”
Everyone laughed again and I took a deep breath, glad things were going well so far.
“We have a tradition. Every year we fly in early enough to grab lunch at this great diner in Seattle before driving down to Forks. I was sixteen and my life was good.
Now you may be wondering what this has to do with heroes, and I’m sure most of you have figured out that it’s a horrible cliché. Therefore I’ll just come out with it; yes, my daddy is my hero. In fact it’s even more cliché than that because he’s also the Chief of Police in a town whose entire population is roughly half the number of students in my high school. And as awesome as all that is, it has absolutely nothing to do with his being my hero. In order to explain that, I guess I should finish telling you about lunch.
This diner has the cutest busboys. I don’t know where they find these guys, but seriously…they really pretty up the place.”
I paused for laughter again, and I heard some quiet cheering as well this time. I almost held my breath because this was the important part and I didn’t know how things would go.
“It wasn’t until we were about halfway through the meal that I realized my dad and I had the same taste in guys.”
The lecture hall was completely silent now, but I trudged on regardless.
“I’ve always known that my father is homosexual. He’s always wanted a family of his own; husband, kids, white picket fence, the whole thing. He never thought he’d have kids, though, so when my mother offered to bear his child they started looking into their options. Dad was still in the academy at that time, and mom was a mildly successful artist. He’d already been promised a spot on the force in Forks, so they looked at their finances and tried to decide if they could really afford to support a baby. When they decided that it was doable they looked into artificial insemination. They had to save for awhile and try three times but finally I was conceived.
When I was born my parents were thrilled, although the town was scandalized. In an effort to make things easier on themselves, and on me, my parents moved in together. They weren’t married and they had a baby, sharing a three bedroom house that was quickly labeled a Den of Iniquity. This worked until I was three, when mom was offered her dream job in Phoenix; it came with a house, a good salary, and great benefits. She was going to turn it down but dad wouldn’t let her give up her dream. They worked out a visitation schedule and everything changed.
My dad could have been a jerk. He could have demanded that my mom stay in Forks, muddling through and never reaching her full potential. He could have followed us to Phoenix and ended up resenting her for having to give up his own dream in order to make hers come true. Instead he worked with her to find a compromise they could both be happy with because they knew I could never be happy if they weren’t. That is part of why my dad’s my hero, although you can see why my mom is, too.”
I had no choice but to pause here; the cheering was outrageous, and I could just imagine my dad blushing down there in his seat. When the cheering stopped I beamed a smile at the crowd and picked up my story again.
“When I was little I knew that my daddy liked boys because both of my parents never kept it a secret from me. Since boys had cooties, I thought this was a very strange thing to do.”
There was more laughter, and my grin was wry as I continued.
“To me, my dad liking boys was the same as my mom liking quilts or my dad liking baseball; it was just one of those things my parents did that made no sense. It wasn’t until I was about ten or eleven that I even knew there was a word for men like my father. I was walking home from the school bus stop and there were some high school boys beating up another boy, calling him a fag and a homo. I flagged down a police officer as I’d been taught by my parents, and heard her say that it was a hate crime. I didn’t quite know what that meant so I asked my mom when I got home.”
I took another deep breath, glancing down into my mirror to pull myself together.
“She sat me down and explained what hate crimes where, and what those words the boys had been using meant. She told me that many people didn’t like it when boys liked boys or girls liked girls. I was terribly confused because I just couldn’t understand why it made any difference. Mom told me that prejudice has no basis in reality and promised to answer any questions I had. When we called my dad that night after dinner, I told him what I’d seen and asked if he’d ever been beaten up for liking boys. He was honest with me and told me that he’d only ever been in one physical fight because of it, but he’d been called those words I’d heard the other boys using quite a bit.”
I looked out over the crowd, my eyes hardened in remembered anger.
“I was mad. My dad was the most gentle and loving person I knew in the entire world. How could anyone want to hurt him for something that he had no control over?”
I drifted off into my memories for a few moments, a small smile crossing my face.
“I discovered boys for myself a few years later and suddenly understood where my dad was coming from.”
I heard a few chuckles while I glanced at my mirror again.
“Through all of this mom and I made our trips to Forks several times a year. I became more aware of what was going on around me and realized that while no one in Forks cared if my dad was gay, the same couldn’t be said for the nearest town. There’s an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles that has really good mushroom ravioli that I just love, so we’d always made at least one trip there every visit. I started to notice that some people came up to greet us but others would ignore us, or cross the street to avoid us. Some parents would pull their children close, while others didn’t seem to mind if my dad smiled at their kids or chatted with them for a moment.
I also started to hear the hisses and whispered words that followed my father around. I’d always been too young to notice it because no one was extremely overt with their hatred, but as I aged I started to notice it more and more. When I was thirteen I asked my dad if we could stop going to Paul Manno’s. I may have loved the mushroom ravioli, but I hated hearing the waitress say cruel things she didn’t realize I could hear when I went to the bathroom.”
I sighed for a moment and knew my eyes were sad. There was some muttering but I ignored it and pushed on.
“I knew what a pedophile was, but apparently they didn’t because they thought it was a synonym of homosexual.”
The muttering got angrier and I heard a voice I didn’t recognize shout from the back of the room.
“Are you kidding?”
I shook my head, not sure if I had been intended to answer that but doing so anyway; I tried to bring back the lightheartedness from earlier.
“No I’m not, but please leave all questions for the end.”
I quirked a grin, though it was fairly forced, and the answering chuckles sounded a bit forced as well. I stared down into the mirror again for a long moment before picking up my story.
“My mom met Phil a few weeks after we got home from that Christmas trip. Phil was the first guy who didn’t think it was strange that my mom and dad talked on the phone nearly every day; sometimes about me, and sometimes about themselves. My parents are friends, and Phil was the first guy my mom dated who not only understood but respected that.”
I shot a smile to the general area I knew my family was sitting in as I continued, my smile turning teasing.
“Things got serious, and Phil came to Forks the next Christmas because he had to get the best friend seal of approval. After shaking my dad’s hand he asked for my dad’s opinion, saying my mom was biased.”
The room erupted in laughter when I heard a voice I recognized as Phil’s shout, “Isabella Swan, stop right there!” I laughed as well but continued.
“Dad agreed and mom covered her face but I was fascinated when Phil spun around, lifted up the back of his coat, and asked my dad if his jeans made his butt look good.”
The hall erupted in cheers and whistles; people even started chanting Phil’s name. Finally the moderator had to get people settled down and I continued.
“My dad stared at my mother’s boyfriend’s butt for a good two minutes before saying, ‘I’d do you. That shirt would have to go, though.’”
The moderator got involved again, and it took much longer to calm the crowd this time. I was feeling fully relaxed when I started talking again.
“During our two week visit dad and Phil found common ground and started building a friendship. Phil plays minor league baseball, so they spent hours arguing that while mom and I shopped or decorated or anything else we wanted to do. When mom and Phil got married six months ago dad both gave my mom away and stood as Phil’s best man.”
There was clapping and cheering and I even heard people shouting their congratulations for the wedding. I knew mom was blushing without being able to see her.
“I went home with Dad after the wedding and spent a weekend with him while Phil and mom were on their honeymoon. That was the first time it ever occurred to me to ask if my dad had a boyfriend. I’d never met a guy my dad was dating, so I was curious. As always he was honest with me. Apparently the dating pool in Forks is not very large for gay men, so he’d spent most of his life alone. He had his work and his friends, but that was it. I felt…bad for him. I thought that it must be very lonely to have no doubt you were going to spend your life alone, so I got it into my head that I was going to find my daddy a man.”
The crowd cheered again, this time with some catcalls thrown in for good measure.
“When I got back to Phoenix I started looking around. Now I saw some really hot guys, but I had no idea what my dad was looking for. All I had to go on was a handful of overheard conversations between Dad and Phil or mom, which pretty much just told me that my dad liked pretty boys but he’d pick substance over sparkle any day. And that Phil had a knack for picking out pretty boys.”
There was some laughter at that, but people were starting to really pay more attention, as though they could see I was coming to a point.
“Not long before this essay was assigned there was a scandal where a politician was outed as a homosexual. People were outraged, I think there may have even been a minor riot over it, and I thought it was stupid because my dad is in an elected position and he’s always been openly gay. The more I thought about it the stupider it seemed, but the guy also seemed to be taking it really hard so I wrote him a letter. I told him about my dad without going into too much personal detail, and suggested that he may want to move to Washington since the people of that state seemed to be less idiotic than those in his current state. Just before we left for Forks I got a form letter thanking me for my support in this rough time, blah, blah, blah, but there was a second page that was handwritten.
He thanked me for sharing my dad’s story. He told me that he’d received a lot of letters from homosexual people across the nation who shared their personal sorrows and triumphs. Some were still in the closet and some were out and proud. My dad, though, was the first story he got from the child of an elected official and he said that it gave him hope for things to end well. I appreciated that, and I was glad I could help him even in some small way.”
I took a deep breath as applause swelled throughout the room. I held it for a moment and let it out as the applause died down.
“This brings us back to lunch. I was still trying to find my dad a man, and we were talking about the letter from the politician when I realized dad and I were both checking out the same busboy. The diner employees know my family; our faces, our names, our favorite things to order, even our hobbies. We, in turn, know them. Their dreams, what classes they’re taking in college, even family and pets. This particular busboy is named Jasper. He comes from a military family but didn’t join himself because he’s openly gay. He’s a grad student at Washington, studying history primarily with a combined interest in literature. He wants to work for the Smithsonian or the Library of Congress. He’s twenty five and just…fine.”
I made an exaggerated motion as though fanning myself, letting the laughter roll over me.
“Knowing he’s gay doesn’t keep me from staring at his butt, and he doesn’t mind. Just like with my dad, Jasper’s not a stereotype. He just looks like…a guy. A very hot guy. My dad also just looks like a guy, and as his daughter I have no problems telling you that my dad is an attractive man with a personality to match.”
The crowd cheered again while I beamed over them. I was reaching the end of my allotted time and I was glad things seemed to be going so well. This crowd now loved my dad as much as I did.
“On the drive to Forks I asked my dad why he’d never dated Jasper. I knew my dad liked that he was smart and funny, goal oriented and driven, plus he was cute to boot. Dad’s answer shouldn’t have surprised me but it did. He told me that Jasper’s dream was going to take him to the East coast while my dad already had his dream job. If things got serious one of them would have to give up their dream, and they’d eventually resent each other for it.”
I looked out over the crowd, positive my expression was as earnest as my voice.
“My whole life I’ve known how important it is for my parents to follow their dreams. I’ve always been encouraged to follow mine. For my dad to give up a chance at happiness, no matter how brief, in order to hold onto his dream of forever with someone really opened my eyes. For the first time ever I didn’t see my dad when I looked at him. I saw a man; a man who wasn’t willing to settle for less than what he wanted out of life. I saw a man who refused to be someone he wasn’t to please others. I saw a strong man who stood his moral ground when he was right and wouldn’t let blind hatred force him to conform to societal expectations. I saw a man who refused to even consider the fact that something as simple as his sexuality would keep him from reaching his goals and fulfilling his dreams.
For the first time in my life I saw the Charlie Swan the rest of the world sees instead of the daddy I’ve always seen, and that’s when I knew he was a hero. Not just mine, but other people’s as well.
Thank you.”
I gathered up my essay and my mirror, bowing my head. When I looked back up I felt tears spring to my eyes.
They were standing while they clapped and cheered, calling out my father’s name. They really did love my daddy as much as I did. I started toward the edge of the stage to rejoin my family before turning back quickly and standing before the microphones again. I raised a hand for silence and was kind of surprised when I got it immediately. I leaned forward, a mischievous smile on my face.
“You know, he’s still single and I am taking applications…”
My father’s voice rang out.
“Isabella Marie, you are grounded!”
The crowd went wild.
- 1
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My Hero	By : MissiYoung Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR Views: 1383 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

My Hero