Summer Hearts

by Chase Connor

  Dad and Cheryl began to set the fries out on the table around my laptop and pulled up chairs beside me as quietly as possible. Carter began addressing the people at the luncheon, talking about business and things that made no difference to me as the three of us dug into the fries silently. Even our chewing was measured so as to not miss anything Carter was saying. The beginning of his speech seemed to go on forever. Mostly about things I didn’t give a shit about, though I tried really hard to care. Even Cheryl and Dad seemed put out with waiting on pins and needles for him to get to the real reason we were tuning into the live feed. Finally, a few minutes in, he cleared his throat and looked at the camera quickly, as though letting me know subliminally, across the internet, that it was time to really listen.

  “Lastly today, I wanted to talk about a joint effort between my company and—”

  Dad and Cheryl kept making “ooh” and “aah” sounds to each other as each company was announced, partially drowning out Carter, so I had to “shush” them with a laugh.

  “I’m unaware if you have ever heard of a young man by the name of Cooper Weissman?” He asked the crowd. A few people cheered. Carter smiled. “He’s become an internet sensation since he spoke of diversity in his valedictorian commencement speech at Dextrus Academy last month.”

  A rumble of chatter happened off-camera, so I assumed people started to put my name together with “that video they’d seen online.”

  “We—the companies I’ve listed off—are partnering with Cooper Weissman to create a foundation. A scholarship fund for kids—in his words—who look like him. Young people of color. LGBTQ-plus students. People who are underprivileged and ignored by elite schools and universities or simply can’t afford them if they are not excluded. Together, we hope to provide hope—and, of course, funding—to these students who deserve the same opportunity as everyone else with privilege. Beginning in the fall of 2020, we will be award four years of tuition to ten exceptional students who are chosen by the foundation and Cooper Weissman. I, and my fellow investors, couldn’t be more thrilled to announce this partnership with an exceptional—an extraordinary—young man I was privileged to meet just by chance while on vacation this summer. One meeting was all it took for me to be inspired and humbled by this young man. A young man who came from meager beginnings attended one of the finest prep schools in the country—on scholarship—and is now going to be attending UCLA on a full scholarship this fall. His desire to help other students like himself is humbling and inspirational. That is why I am pleased to announce that we are naming this foundation: The Cooper Weissman Diversity Project. That name was chosen by a woman whom Cooper is close to and—”

  When the foundation name left Carter’s lips, I was angry at first. But when he made it clear that Mrs. Robinson had made the decision, I blushed and felt my eyes well up.

  “—it seems Cooper Weissman inspires people everywhere he goes. And, thanks to a chance meeting, he will continue to do so for years to come. Students of color, LGBTQ-plus students, underprivileged students, will have an opportunity they may never have had before. And we have Cooper Weissman to celebrate for that.”

  Blood was pumping in my ears and making my cheeks warm as Dad and Cheryl wrapped their arms around me and hugged me, “whooping” cheers coming from their lips. I missed the rest of the speech. But the text from Carter Powell ten minutes later let me know that the end was met with thunderous applause from all in attendance.

  Jumper was “making biscuits” on my chest as I laid on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. I was doing my best, in my distracted state, to scratch him behind his ears and show him love, but I knew I was failing miserably. Of course, he didn’t seem to mind too much since I was letting him paw and push at my chest with his clawless paws. Jumper loved “making biscuits” on anyone who would stay still long enough for him to do it.

  Over the years, I’d looked up why cats knead at things in a trance-like state, pawing and pushing at blankets and people and other objects. It seemed that no one knew for certain why this was a common cat behavior. Some sources stated that it reminded cats of nursing at their mother when they were young, so it was a relaxation technique. Other sources said it was to mark a human as their own with the sweat glands in their paws. But my favorite reason provided was that cats do it when they are happy and content and feel safe. Feeling that the action meant that Jumper felt happy, content, and safe in my presence in my room was my favorite explanation, so I was going to stick with that one.

  After watching the live feed of Carter’s speech at the luncheon, I had received his text, and we had a quick phone call where he explained how he had reached out to Mrs. Robinson about the foundation name. She had insisted—especially after hearing what I’d done with the five-hundred dollars—that the foundation be named after me. Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t be swayed to any other way of thinking, either. So, together, he and Mrs. Robinson decided on a name they both loved and ran with it. Carter didn’t talk long because, apparently, there were journalists and reporters he had to go talk to about the foundation. In passing, he mentioned that I might have to make myself available on Tuesday for at least a few phone interviews about the foundation. He didn’t ask if I was comfortable with that, but I didn’t mind. Anything I had to do to help get money into the hands of students who needed it would be done as long as I was physically able.

  The last thing he said before he hung up on his end was to tell me that before I left for UCLA, he planned to take me out to dinner when he was in Montpelier so that he could meet Dad. I had happily accepted.

  The craziness of it all, though, made me feel the need to just relax for a minute away from Dad and Cheryl. I needed to clear my head. Jumper joining me was okay, though. He didn’t talk much. When I heard the knock on my door, I was barely able to respond, I was still in such a state of shock. Somehow, I found my voice, though.

  “Come in.”

  “Hey,” Dad stated softly as he pushed the door open and popped his head inside, “is it okay if I come in for a second?”

  I nodded, though my eyes stayed on my bedroom ceiling. Looking anywhere but on a fixed point meant that my eyes would threaten to betray me. Dad had seen me cry plenty of times, but I just couldn’t let myself lose my shit again. Not about the foundation. I wanted to fix a delirious smile to my face—and until that was possible, I was going to avoid doing anything that would make that impossible.

  “How ya’ doing?” Dad asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on my knee.

  “I’m superlative.”

  “Really?” He asked. “Because you were borderline catatonic for a minute there.”

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled.

  “Overwhelmed?” He squeezed my knee.

  My head nodded of its own accord.

  “Do you want to talk about it, or just sit with it for a while?” He asked gently.

  “The second thing.”

  “Okay.” He squeezed my knee again. “Couple of things, son.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Cheryl is going to make tacos for dinner tonight.” He began. “She said she’s going to make fry bread, so…it’s gonna be lit.”

  “Lit?” My head came off of my pillow with a smile.

  Dad shrugged. “Just trying to be cool for once, son. Also…Alex is standing in our foyer, looking as though he isn’t sure if he should stay or make a run for it.”

  I just stared at Dad.

  “I told him I would see if you wanted to see him.” He said.

  “I’m sure that’s how you said it.”

  “Actually, I said, ‘wait here while I check with Cooper, so I know whether to send you upstairs or break your fucking kneecaps’.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Little bit.”

  “Dad.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, Dad.”

  “One day, you’ll be begging me to kick his ass, son.” He shrugged. “Just trying to make sure you remember what I’m capable of.”

&nb
sp; Slowly, I pulled myself up to a sitting position, putting my back against the wall as Dad’s hand fell away from my leg.

  “Send him up, I guess.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Don’t try to be my bodyguard.”

  Dad chuckled.

  “Okay, son.”

  With a sigh, I watched as Dad exited my room, giving me a wink over his shoulder. He left the door open since it would just be opened shortly by my…boyfriend? I pulled my legs up into the lotus position as I leaned against the wall, waiting for Alex to show up. I knew it would take a moment since Dad would probably say something else to scare him first. I was glad of that because I needed to prepare myself for what had been coming for a while. After our trip to Maine and everything we’d fought over, it was time for Alex and I to officially tell each other “goodbye.” Doing it on the day that I had gotten such good news was probably best. Maybe it would keep me from becoming too depressed by the end of my first real relationship. By the time Alex was standing in my doorway, looking nervously over at me on my bed, I was at peace with it.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I responded.

  “Can I…can I come in?”

  I gestured vaguely.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  He nodded and stepped into my room.

  “You might want to close the door,” I advised. “Dad will probably be listening anyway, but don’t make it easy on him.”

  I swore I could hear a chuckle from downstairs.

  Alex nodded and closed the door gently behind himself.

  “Before you say what you came to say,” I began with a sigh, “I wanted to say I’m sorry for the things I said to you.”

  “What?”

  “For making fun of your dad and screaming at you on the side of the road,” I explained. “It was immature and uncalled for. If you can’t fight fair, you shouldn’t fight. So, I’m sorry for acting like that.”

  Alex’s eyes were fixed on me.

  “Sorry,” I said again.

  “I love you.” He said.

  “I love you, too.” I agreed. There was no point in lying about it.

  “And I hate you.”

  I frowned.

  “I’ve been a total jackass, and I show up here to apologize, and you beat me to it.” He sighed, then tentatively walked over and lowered himself gently onto the edge of my bed. “Not that you should be apologizing.”

  He sat close enough to me for it to be friendly, yet not too intimate, as though afraid I would shove him away.

  “Dad and I watched Carter Powell’s speech.”

  I gave an upward nod.

  “Dad knows him, and Carter sent him a link since ya’ know, you graduated from Dextrus, and that’s where you gave the speech, and…everything. Everyone on the school board has seen it.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

  “Cooper,” Alex sighed, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t upset with you because of what was in your speech.”

  “It sure seems like diversity might be an issue for you,” I said. “And your father.”

  “Diversity isn’t an issue.” Alex shook his head. “God, all I do is apologize. Why can’t I just get things right the first fucking time? Why do I always fuck things up?”

  “You’re kind of a douchebag.” I couldn’t help but tease him.

  “Yeah.” He deflated. “I know. I’m sorry about that, too. I’m sorry about everything.”

  I ignored his apology. I wasn’t sure I was ready to accept an apology about anything he had done.

  “What were you upset about then?” I asked. “What pissed you and your dad off so much that you treated me like garbage, Alex?”

  Alex turned, kicking his knee up on the bed so that he could look me in the eyes.

  “Dad,” He looked down for a second, then looked up again, “he kind of looks at you as a second son, Cooper. I mean, you’re my boyfriend. I think he kind of expects you to be his son-in-law one day. Help me make some grandchildren for him.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “He cares about you.”

  “Didn’t seem like it.”

  “I know.” Alex gestured for me to slow down. “He was upset because you didn’t trust him to back you up. You didn’t even mention to him that you’d be talking about diversity and that you’d come out in your speech. I mean…you know how the board is. You knew they wouldn’t like it. Dad doesn’t mind fighting them on the important things…but to have you not trust him to do that—to not give him a heads up—it made him feel like you didn’t think of him in the same way.”

  “The same way?”

  “As family.” Alex glanced over at me, then back down at the floor. “And when he told me that…it made me wonder if you trust me? If you think of me as family. Because you didn’t tell me anything either. You just did what you needed to do—and I know you needed to do it, it had to be said—I’m fucking proud of you for saying it—but you didn’t even tell us. You treated us like anybody else there.”

  Without knowing it, I had been holding my breath. I stared at the side of Alex’s face as he looked down at the floor, wondering if I had ever considered that all they had wanted was to be included in the “revolution.” When they’d been shut out, they felt like the outsiders for once. I knew how that felt.

  “It hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  “I know.” Alex bit at the edge of his lip. “And it made me feel like shit. So…even though I’m a total douchebag for it…it made me want to make you feel the same way. And I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just told you how you made me feel.”

  “You should have.” I agreed.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t just lay things out.” He shook his head. “I should have said something to you as soon as I had a moment alone with you after graduation, Cooper.”

  “I wish you had.” I sighed. “These last six weeks have sucked, Alex. I’ve felt like shit—well, about us. There’s been some good stuff, too.”

  We both smiled at the thought of Carter Powell and the foundation.

  Alex smiled awkwardly, obviously afraid to show too much happiness at that moment.

  “What you are doing?” He said. “With Carter Powell? That’s amazing, Cooper. You should have seen Dad’s face. He was shocked…but mostly really fucking proud of you. I think, maybe, also a little relieved. There’s no way the school board is going to give him any shit after that.”

  “I didn’t do it for him.”

  “He knows that,” Alex said. “But he’s proud of you either way. I think that’s what made him really happy, the fact that you didn’t do it for him. You didn’t give your speech or do this with Carter Powell for any reason other than to help other guys like you. It further proves how fucking amazing you are, Cooper.”

  “Why isn’t he here saying it for himself?” I asked what I felt was the most logical and fair question.

  “He asked me to ask you to come to dinner,” Alex said. “Because he would like to apologize to you personally. And to tell you how proud of you he is.”

  “He could’ve done that for himself, too.” I reached over and grabbed my phone, waving it lazily at Alex.

  “Cooper,” Alex gave me a desperate look, “you’re black. I’ll never understand what it means to be you. Okay?”

  I froze.

  “I’ll never know what you must have gone through every day at Dextrus, surrounded by a bunch of entitled white dudes who had no idea that it was a struggle for you to be the only black guy. It’s not fair. It wasn’t fair. And it never once occurred to me in four years to say, hey, is there something I can do to be more inclusive?” Alex’s hands were clenched, wringing nervously in his lap but he kept his eyes locked on mine. “I’m sitting here telling you how it made Dad and me feel that you didn’t bring us into your confidence about your speech beforehand. But I’ve never asked you in four years how it felt to be you. I’ve never been sorrier about anything in my
life.”

  I was chewing at my lip, forcing my eyes to stay dry.

  “I love you with my whole heart, Cooper,” Alex said. “And not once in four years did I even consider what Dextrus was like for you. It was too easy for me, in my privileged bubble, to ignore what was right in front of my face. We’re about to go off to UCLA and start our lives—and I want to spend my life with you—but I’ve never thought to ask you what it’s like to be you. I mean, I could sit here all day and say that I never think about the fact that you’re a different color than me because ‘love is blind’ or I’m ‘colorblind’ or some other bullshit. But…I know you’re black. I mean, I don’t care, but I’ve just…I’ve never let myself consider that being at Dextrus was probably torture. Day in and day out, having to blend in—be the best, do better than everyone, be on better behavior, not fuck up even the slightest bit, prove to people you’re not just the black kid on scholarship. You had to prove your right to be at Dextrus every single minute of every day…and the rest of us white assholes just took everything for granted. I can’t even fathom what that feels like.”

  “It kinda sucked.” I nodded, looking down at my lap, my voice soft. “I mean, yeah, it was also amazing. Dextrus is a great school. But…unless I was with you or Logan…I felt lonely. A lot.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Alex said. “And I know it’s not fair, but I have to ask that…”

  “What?” I asked when Alex’s pause lasted too long.

  “To just…help me understand every day. Point shit out. Tell me what you feel and when you feel it and why you feel it.” Alex said. “Help me be the boyfriend you deserve.”

  “So,” I snorted, “you’re not here to break up with me?”