Author's note: So yeah, new story, still updating the other ones, yadda yadda yadda. Not much else to say. Reviews are my crack, so don't forget to give me one!

"What are you trying to tell us?"

Tino Vainamoinen was sitting with his parents in the living room, where he'd just dropped the ultimate bombshell on his family.

He hadn't come right out and said it exactly, but he didn't need to. Henrik and Elina knew the minute he finished talking what their son was telling them. Still, they clung fiercely to the quickly diminishing hope that everything was all just a big misunderstanding.

Hearing his mother's tone made Tino scared. He was sure they'd be alright with this. They'd never really talked about it, though, so it was just something he assumed. He drew a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"What I'm saying is, well, okay, here it goes. Mom and Dad, I'm gay."

There was nothing but silence.

After what seemed like an eternity to everyone in the room, Tino's mother let out a sob.

"Please don't cry, Mom. I didn't mean to upset you."

Elina rushed forward and threw both arms around her boy. "Oh, Tino, honey. This is all my fault. If I'd have noticed earlier..." She trailed off.

His father came over and put a hand on his shoulder. "We're going to help you get through this. There are ways to get rid of this sort of thing. It'll be alright."

Needless to say, that was not the reaction Tino was hoping for.

"What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with me."

"Of course there isn't. This gay thing is just a phase you're going through."

At this, Tino got slightly agitated.

"No, it isn't. And what's so bad about that?"

His parents looked at each other, their horror growing by the minute. "Well, you know," his mother said.

"Do I?"

His father spoke up. "God doesn't like gays. At all."

Henrik and Elina knew their son was not happy with them. In their minds, they saw no reason why. They offered him help, and he'd refused to accept it.

"Why don't you go upstairs? Your father and I need to talk in private."

Tino complied, never feeling so angry- or so scared.

...

"Father, what should we do?"

Father Joseph Thompson, age 71, was at the kitchen table with Elina. Henrik was at work and Tino was in school. She'd consulted the town priest on what to do about her son. He'd already gone through a few options with her, including routine prayers, support groups, and counseling. None of them sounded especially effective to her.

"Well, if you're very serious about getting Tino cured, and I can tell that you are, there's always St. Christine's."

"What's that?"

Father Thompson took a swig of his coffee. "It's a boarding school. For young people like Tino. If there's anything that can make him straight, it's that place. Here, I think I've got a pamphlet." He dug around in his briefcase until he pulled out a thin booklet with the words St. Christine's School for the Confused Youth written on it in bold letters.

"They usually don't take new students after the school year has started, but the woman who runs it is a good friend of mine, so I could pull some strings for you."

Elina flipped through the pamphlet, reading the descriptions and testimonials inside. It sounded like it might work, not to mention that the school grounds were surprisingly beautiful.

"It looks like a nice place..."

"Oh, I can assure you, it is."

She pushed the pamphlet back to Father Thompson, who replied that she should keep it so Henrik and Tino could see it.

"When do we need to make a decision?"

"If you could tell me by tomorrow evening, Tino could probably be there by the end of next week."

"That isn't a very long time."

"I know. But any later than that, and I don't think I could even get him in."

"We'll consider it."

...

They'd agreed that St. Christine's would be the best place for Tino to go. They meaning Tino's parents. Tino himself had no interest in going or changing his sexual orientation at all. But he hadn't been given much of a say in what happened. So off he went, to a school on the coast of Washington that just so happened to be forty minutes away from the nearest town. Tino had a nice view of the ocean at St. Christine's, but that was the only thing he liked about the place. Not only was he in a school ran by people who were insistent on forcing him to be straight, but the building gave off a seriously creepy vibe.

This was going to be one hell of a year. And not in a good way.