“I told them we were just friends,” Avery went on, biting his nails. “I’m not sure they believed me, so please, clarify that for them when we get there. We’re just friends.” There was something about the way that he said that, something that made me wonder what he was really thinking at that moment. Whatever it was seemed to be bugging him.
“I will.” Even though I said it, I wasn’t so sure. Did I like Avery? I was sexually attracted to girls, but being friends with him was making me soft…a little too soft, to the point where I was questioning my own sexuality.
No, I told myself. I was straight. Just because I was friends with a gay guy didn’t make me gay. Did it?
Falling stars from the sky
Come dropping down to Earth,
Lighting the night
And giving us a view.
A view of our dreams
And our souls that we burn,
Giving us life
In a way that none else could.
These falling stars are our light
Our vision of the future,
A window to our thoughts
And light the way for us to finally see the truth.
We boarded the plane at 12:24 that afternoon, me by the window, Melissa in the middle, and Avery on the outside by the aisle. When the plane took off, my stomach practically exploded from the pressure, making me feel sick. Melissa took a hold of my hand, smiling at me sympathetically. From the second she walked into Avery’s house, I noticed something seemingly different about her, and as curious as I was, I realized that now was not the time. If something was bothering her, she surely wasn’t going to talk about it now, not on our way to spend the next two weeks in Boston.
Originally we were all going to stay at his Aunt’s house, but come to find out they had an empty guesthouse right in their backyard. They sent Avery some pictures earlier that morning, telling him we were all going to stay back there—kind of like a hotel suite, but closer to home. It sounded exciting, being all alone in our own guesthouse. This was going to be a really fun break, I was sure of it.
We flew for about an hour, and then had a twenty minute layover in D.C. By the time we arrived in Boston it was 4:30 in the afternoon, and as expected, his two aunts were waiting for us when we got off the plane. His Aunt Denise smiled at us and gave each of us a hug.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said, hugging me tightly.
“I’m glad I could come, too,” I replied, feeling the honesty pour from my mouth. “It’s nice to see you again.” Especially considering the last time I had seen her she was listening to Avery yell at me for telling his personal business.
“I’m glad to see you too, sweetie.” Denise stepped aside and Susan came forward, giving me a hug as well, less affectionately. I assumed she was the dominant one by her persona.
We followed them out to their car, a large SVU that we all squeezed into with little effort. Their foster children were spending their Winter Break at a ski resort for a trip for their school, giving us all the opportunity to bond. The longer I was friends with Avery, I felt like I was really becoming a part of his life—and I was very grateful he forgave me enough to ask me to come on this trip with him.
“Ain’t It Fun” played on the radio as we drove to the house and everyone seemed to be in an amazing mood, even me, who was happy for the first time in months. I was with my friends now, and while Jake was good company sometimes, I felt as if we weren’t as close anymore. Not now that I’d met Avery.
Speaking of Jake—I pulled out my phone for the first time in hours and saw that the text had come from him.
Suddenly I felt very badly about not telling him that I was leaving. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to tell him, I just didn’t want to have to explain why I was going away for the break. Deciding to talk to him later, I pocketed my phone and focused on the scenery and the blanket on white that covered everything in sight. Living in South Carolina all of my life, I barely saw snow, not like this, and even though I was freezing my buttocks off, I enjoyed the view.
The guesthouse was more gorgeous in person. In their backyard, the house was two stories high, with three bedrooms and one bath, a small living room with a couch and a loveseat, and a kitchen for us to make our food. It felt almost like a real house that we were living in together as friends. After Denise and Susan left, we all picked our rooms—Melissa and Avery called the ones upstairs, so I got the downstairs, which was actually nice because it was the biggest.
We all put our things away and met up in the living room where Avery sat on the couch and Melissa sat in the loveseat. I sat beside Avery and saw that they were watching reruns of Pretty Little Liars on TV.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?” I asked, breaking the silence with confidence. “Anything special?”
“We didn’t have plans,” Avery said, “but we can make some if you want. I don’t really know my way around here. My aunts have season bus passes that we could use to go anywhere.”
“I don’t feel like going out,” Melissa said sternly from the chair, looking unhappy. “I just want to stay in tonight if that’s okay with you guys.” There was something about the way she said it that made me really reconsider talking to her about it tonight. Maybe there was something on her mind that she needed to get out.
“That’s fine,” I told Avery, “we do not need to go out, I was just wondering if we had any plans, is all.” I glanced at Melissa and said, “Do you want to come outside with me for a minute?”
Even though she looked unsure, she got up anyway, walking with me out the front door and onto the porch. Outside, snow was falling and the sun was beginning to set behind the houses in front of us. I took a seat on the bench and she sat on the chair, trying to avoid me. Staring at her, I said, “Something’s wrong.”
She nodded. “Something is wrong, Cyril. I won’t deny that.”
“What is it?’ I asked. “You know you can tell me anything. I love you.”
Melissa looked away, tears forming in her eyes, and cried. “That’s the problem. I don’t want you to love me.”
Her words hurt but didn’t make any sense. “Why don’t you want me to love you?”
She shook her head quickly. “It’s not that simple. I can’t just come right out and say it. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I understood her reasoning, but she was also hurting me by not explaining. I stood up and got down on my knees in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “You can tell me, ‘Lissa. I promise I won’t be mad.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and said softly, “I want to see other people.”
My heart stopped right in my chest and for a second I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt as if she had just stabbed me right then and there, and was telling me I wasn’t good enough. Melissa actually believed I wasn’t good enough! As if she knew what I was thinking, she added, “It’s not you, Cyril, it’s me…”
“Yeah!” I shouted. “That’s what they all say! What is it about me that you don’t like?”
She stood up as I jumped up, backing away from her. Anger surged through my body, causing me to shake. Why was she doing this now? What made her think that this was the right time to talk about it? But in truth, I asked for it and she gave me an answer. Finally, the biggest question ran through my mind.
“Who is it?”
She stared at me in astonishment. “What makes you think there’s someone else?”
“Because there is!” I shouted. “I can tell by the way you avoided the question. Who is it, Melissa? Who out there is so much better than me?”
Melissa was crying softly and said, “Please don’t make me tell you. I’m not ready to—”
“Tell me!” My blood was boiling inside of me, ready to burst. And my heart sank when she spoke her next words.
“Eve.”
For a moment her answer didn’t register. I thought that maybe she thought I asked another question, or that I hea
rd her incorrectly, but I knew deep down I didn’t. She really said what I thought said. When I didn’t say anything, she cried harder. I wanted to hug her because I knew what this meant. Melissa wasn’t leaving me because she didn’t love me. She was leaving me because…
“I’m a lesbian,” Melissa said and my whole world collapsed.
Young love,
While seemingly perfect,
Is never what it seems.
Young love,
While seemingly beautiful,
Is an enemy in disguise.
Young love,
While seemingly lovely,
Can kill in a heartbeat, sending others into oblivion.
Young love,
While seeming much like forever
Can end in a single goodbye,
Leaving the rest to their pain,
Sending others into heartache,
Making life collapse in a single breath.
Despite what we wish,
Love never lasts
FOREVER…
Melissa cried onto my shoulder as I held her, wanting to cry but not saying a single word. There was nothing to say after a shocking revelation like this. At that time, I wanted to blame her. I wanted to blame Melissa for leading me on, making me think we had a future, and making me think she loved me.
Looking back on it now, I realize that she did love me—just not in the way that she wanted herself to. Even if she was in support of gay people, she did not want to be one herself, and I think for a long time she lead herself to believe that she really loved me. All around her everyone was fooled and eventually she fooled herself.
Until she met Eve.
Finding out your girlfriend is a lesbian tends to make things a little more complicated than you wish they were, but it was the honest to God truth and I could see it in her eyes when she spoke. There was so much pain, so much guilt, so much heartache, and I couldn’t ever hate her for telling me the truth. Six months ago I would have told her to fuck off, but now all I could do was think about her happiness. I wanted her to be happy, and if I didn’t make her happy, she deserved someone who did. And I told her so.
I don’t know how long we sat on the porch wrapped in each other’s arms, staring off at the sky, but it felt nice. I knew right then that this would be the last time I got to feel Melissa this close to me and my heart ached knowing that fact. After a couple more minutes, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh at the eyeliner smeared across her face and she laughed, too, lightening the mood just a little.
Finally, she whispered, “Thank you for understanding.” It was so soft that at first I thought I imagined but, but with the way she stared at me, I knew she was expecting a response.
“You’re welcome, ‘Lissa,” I said quietly. “I just…I wish it wasn’t like this. We’ve been together for so long…”
“I know,” she told me. “I really do. I wish there was some way I could force myself to be with you longer, but I can’t. It’s…it’s not who I am. I’d be lying if I said the thought of having sex with you turns me on. It just doesn’t…and I’m sorry.”
Understanding and accepting were two very different things, but at this moment, I found myself managing to do both. I’m not saying it was easy, because it certainly wasn’t, but it was something I needed to do, not only for Melissa, but for myself. I couldn’t be angry at her for this. Not at this point in my life. I didn’t want to take two steps back from accepting people as they were when I had already made so many steps forward.
“It’s okay,” I told her, feeling my own tears coming on. “Don’t get the waterworks going for me, though.”
She smiled through the tears. “Why, afraid you’ll lose your manliness?”
I smiled, too, despite the sadness. “Something like that.”
We held each other for a little while longer before we got too cold that our body heat couldn’t even fix. If she couldn’t be my girlfriend anymore, she could at least be my friend—one of my best friends—and I was not ready to lose her.
When we walked back into the house, Avery was curled up on the couch with a blanket and remote in hand. He half smiled at Melissa and then looked at me. “Did she tell you?”
It didn’t come as much of a shock that he already knew. “Yes,” I told him. “She sure did. And she’s my best friend no matter what.”
“Forever?” she asked.
I smiled kindly at her. “Forever.”
The rest of the week went by like any other week. The three of us were mostly anticipating the next Monday, when Avery would finally meet with Angela at a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts in Boston. Avery had spoken to her on the phone once to confirm the meeting, but the rest of the week we went on with our lives without hearing a thing.
I would bore you with all of the details, but that would make an extremely sucky memoir. Each day that week was the same—waking up, cooking breakfast, and going to doing something that none of us have been able to do while living in a suburban area. We went to art galleries, malls, and museums and we all enjoyed it very much.
Sunday night, we were in the living room in the guesthouse preparing for the next morning. I was excited, but Melissa and I both came to a conclusion of our own.
“We want you to go alone,” I told Avery.
His eyes lit up with confusion. “Why?”
“We feel like it’ll be better for you,” Melissa chimed in, “for you to go alone. It will seem more professional that way. We’ll go with you, but we’ll sit at the table behind you and listen. That way Angela thinks you’re alone, but we get to hear it all.”
Avery smiled brightly. “Thank you guys. I appreciate it a lot. I think tomorrow is going to be a good day, and will be the first day in the beginning of my life as an author.”
If I knew then what I knew now, maybe I could have done something different. Then I could have stopped the drama from coming our way—or maybe what was going to happen was inevitable and stopping it would create a storm of Fates to come down and destroy us all.
Monday morning arrived and the meeting with Angela was at 12, giving us time to get ready. We all showed, got dressed, and ate some waffles, eggs, and sausage for breakfast. By the time we finished and were ready to go, Avery looked nervous.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He was sitting on the couch dressed in a casual dress shirt and blue jeans. He didn’t look bad, but with that frown on his face he was beginning to look like he was ill.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m just not sure if I want to do this.”
Shock swept through just then. “Why wouldn’t you want to do this?”
Avery slunk down into the couch further, looking depressed. “For weeks now, I felt like I could do this. I felt like for once I would accomplish something and be able to show the others, the ones who told me I couldn’t do anything in life, that I really could do something. Now I’m afraid of meeting Angela because if she rejects me and decides we aren’t a match, then that means that I suck. I’d rather never show up than be rejected like I have been by everyone else.”
What Avery was saying, while it made sense, was totally unreasonable, and I told him so. “Not everyone has rejected you, Avery. You may think that they have because a few people who have come along told you that you aren’t good enough, but who cares what they think?” Then I told him that they could all go do a form of sexual action with themselves that I don’t feel is very appropriate to write down in words.
Avery laughed, seeming to brighten up at the sound of my words. “I guess so. But, you know, at first you rejected me, too.”
Remembering the first day that I met him, I have to say I am completely ashamed at the way I treated him. There was something great right in front of me and I made him feel like a complete piece of poopoo. Regret is something that everyone feels at some point in life—unless you’re a cold, heartless serial killer like those who commit those school shootings. Guilt, I’ve learned, is also
a natural part of life, and that’s what emotion was enveloping me right now. The guilt for treating Avery so badly. The guilt for not being a better friend. The guilt of not sticking up for him at the rally outside the church months ago when he needed me. It all hit me hard right then, and when I met his eyes, I saw the hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I sat beside him. “I really am, Avery. Damn me. I can’t believe it took me so long to actually apologize for that, but I mean it. I really, really care about you, I just…”
“Just what?” he asked. When he met my eyes for the third time, I felt a part of me ignite, and for some unknown reason, I had to admit the truth.
I was beginning to like Avery.
But what kind of like was it? A sexual like? A friendship like, a brotherly like? I didn’t know and couldn’t give a straight answer if you paid me a million dollars—not one that would be the 100% truth anyways.
“Nothing,” I replied quickly, standing up and getting as far away from him as possible. I was like Melissa—I supported it but did not want to be one. Not…gay. “We’re going to be late.”
“There she is,” I said as we approached the Dunkin Donuts.
Through the window we saw Angela Brown at a table, checking the time to see if we’d arrive at 12. Lucky for us, we were smart enough to leave early and it was 11:55. Deciding that being early and late are both bad, we were waiting in the SVU until 11:59 so we could walk in at exactly 12 o’clock. The plan was my idea.
“We’ll be in a few minutes after you,” Melissa said, breaking the silence. “Don’t start talking about anything important until we get in there. We’re just going to be out here long enough to skip the basic introduction.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, man, we’re going to be right there.” There was an empty table, luckily, right behind where they were sitting, just as we’d hoped. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was time for him to go in. “Go, and hurry! Act like yourself and I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Before I Break Page 10