Philadelphia

by L B Winter

  After church, Jason and Milton earnestly invited us both to lunch with them, but I begged off. It had taken enough work to get over Jamie, and to come to terms with myself. There was no reason to put myself through whatever drama was going on here. “Homework calls,” I said. “Sorry.”

  I told Jamie it was good to see him again, then headed for Trent’s car that I’d borrowed for the morning. Fight or flight instincts had set in, and my response was definitely flight. Interesting—I’d always assumed it would be fight, but okay, good to know.

  I was just getting in the car when I heard my name. I looked up and saw Jamie jogging toward me in the parking lot. “Paul! Hey, Paul!”

  I leaned against the hood of the car and waited for him to catch up to me. In the crisp morning sunlight, he looked even better than I remembered at Freedom. He was filled out now, still tall and slim, but with firm muscles in his neck, arms, and chest. His face was still beautiful, his eyes still warm—but they’d lost that mischievous look they used to have, and his forehead was wrinkled in a way you don’t expect to see on a nineteen-year-old. Wow. Only nineteen and already getting a divorce. I had to actively stop myself from thinking about it—who was I to judge him? I understood what he was dealing with better than almost anybody.

  “What’s up?” I said when he got closer, making a conscious effort not to copy his body language from earlier that morning and fold my arms.

  “Are you heading back to New Tower?”

  “No, I live in Philly now,” I answered, surprised. “I go to Franklin.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry,” he said. His jog slowed to a walk as he reached me, looking defeated.

  Was that all? I glanced behind him and didn’t see the others coming out. He must have said goodbye and come on his own after me.

  “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  He was quiet for a moment, thinking. Apparently that wasn’t an easy question to answer.

  “It wouldn’t be any trouble,” I said, somewhat halfheartedly. Damn him for being so adorable and pathetic. “I didn’t really have homework; I just didn’t want to go to lunch.”

  Jamie chuckled and looked at me for just one second in a way that reminded me of how he used to. But then the moment passed, and he looked sad and tired again.

  “A ride would be great,” he said.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Franklin campus will work.” That seemed strange. Was he enrolled at Franklin, too? Had Milton been wrong about the whole homeless, living in his car thing?

  “Okay, hop in.”

  We were quiet as I pulled onto the highway, but after a few minutes of my awkwardly fiddling with the radio, he said, “Thanks for what you said earlier.”

  “What did I say?” I asked, checking my rearview mirror as I merged into traffic.

  “About not wanting to talk about me behind my back. I think you might be the only person left in the world who doesn’t want to.”

  So he had heard us. I gave him what I hoped was a sympathetic look. “Full disclosure: I already did hear some things, but I wasn’t trying to.” Jamie sighed, and I went on, “I’m sorry about all that, Jamie. That really sucks.”

  He gazed steadily at his hands. “You mean Ellen.”

  Yes—as they always had with him, all roads led back to Ellen. I guessed he must have married her, after all. I might have done some stupid things after leaving Freedom, but at least I hadn’t done that.

  “I really screwed up, Paul. I love her, you know? I love her, I just need to get a handle on everything I keep feeling. I just need to remember that this isn’t my identity in Christ. I can be better than this.”

  I stared at my knuckles, tightly gripping the steering wheel. What to say, what to say? I pretended to be absorbed in traffic, because seriously, was he still trying to reorient? He was nothing if he wasn’t persistent.

  But then he whispered, “I make myself sick,” and my heart broke for him all over again.

  I wanted to tell him everything I had realized in the past few years, how he had to trust that God loves him just the way he is. That he had to learn to come to terms with reality. That there are people in this world who will love and accept him for exactly who he is, and all he has to do is find those people, and it will get better.

  I wanted to tell him. But I didn’t.

  Because he was pushing all the wrong buttons again. Talking about loving Ellen, talking about his lifestyle—my lifestyle, and Steven’s, and Trent’s—making him sick. I had only just arrived at this good place; it was all so new. Even these few seconds of conversation with Jamie had made me feel vulnerable in a way I didn’t like.

  So I said, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” And he didn’t answer.

  We rode again in silence for twenty minutes, until I reached the guys’ apartment. Then I realized my mistake. “Oh, sorry—I have to drop off my friend’s car, and then I usually just take the bus or walk back to campus. It’s only a couple miles. Is that okay, or do you want me to drop you somewhere closer to Franklin first?”

  Jamie looked around, startled, and said, “Oh, this is fine. Anywhere is fine, Paul. Thanks for the ride.”

  His hand was on the door handle, and he looked ready to bolt as soon as I put the car in park—but something seemed off. Why was anywhere fine?

  “It’s really no problem,” I said. “Where are you headed?”

  Again, it seemed like a harder question to answer than it should have been. Then, he burst into tears.

  “I don’t know. Nowhere. Everybody’s…turned their backs on me. I don’t—I just can’t keep going anymore.”

  Red flags, red flags, red flags. I reached out and touched his back, and he curled over his own legs, breathing deeply and hiding his face from me. Meanwhile, my mind was racing.

  I didn’t know where he wanted to go, but this did not sound good at all. I tried to figure out how to convince Jamie to stick with me until I could get him some real help. How to get him to realize he deserved help, actually, would probably be the first step. No, how to keep him from bolting would be the first step. Deciding on a first step would be the first step. Ugh. I was no good at this, and panic was setting in. I needed Lynn.

  I had Lynn! Thank God, I was outside Lynn’s apartment. All those hours spent sneakily sending text messages during my classes were about to pay off. I pulled my phone out of the cup holder and held it behind Jamie’s back to write to Lynn: Need help! Come downstairs now, Trent’s car.

  Lynn came right down—and she brought Trent with her. She probably thought I needed help with carrying groceries or something, so she brought the muscle. That was fine. The more the merrier.

  Jamie had begun to calm down, and he had just sitting back in his seat when Lynn tapped on the window. I rolled it down and tried to act surprised to see her.

  “Oh! Jamie, these are my friends, who live upstairs here. Lynn is practically a sister to me. Do you want to meet her?”

  He seemed unenthused, but good manners meant he had to agree.

  “Hey, Lynn; hey, Trent. This is my friend Jamie,” I said, as casually as possible, hoping they would play along.

  Lynn looked puzzled, but Trent leaned down and said, “Hey there, guys. We were just heading out to pick up some sushi for lunch. Want to join? Our treat.”

  Before Jamie could decline, I said, “That would be great! Thanks, guys.” Then I turned to Jamie and said, “Will you join? Please.”

  He sighed and said, “Sure.”

  We went up to the apartment, where Steven was still asleep, and waited for Lynn and Trent to come back with the food.

  “Nice place,” Jamie said as we sat on the sofa.

  “Isn’t it nice?” I said. “Lynn and Trent have a store downtown; they design accessories and stuff, and the whole artsy thing really translates to their apartment.”

  “They’re married?”

  I had wondered if he would ask that. “No, they’re just friends.” I paused. “Trent’s boyfriend lives here, to
o.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes. “They’re gay. Your friends are gay.”

  I took a deep breath. “Yeah, well. So am I.”

  He looked a little bit more interested than he probably would have been willing to admit when he said, “Do you have a boyfriend, too?”

  “No, I just live with my best friend, and he’s your average, everyday straight dude.”

  Jamie raised his eyebrows. “Weird that he doesn’t have a problem living with you.”

  Oh, Jamie. Come on, don’t be this person. “He’s not like that. None of my friends are. It’s not like I have a disease or something.”

  “Only in the sense that sin is a disease,” Jamie shot back.

  I told myself to be patient; Jamie was going through a lot. People must have told him that so many times, and he had internalized it. “I don’t think it’s that simple anymore,” I said.

  Jamie stood up from the sofa and walked to the window. “I should go.”

  What did I have to lose? I might as well ask him. “Where would you go, Jamie?”

  He looked at the floor.

  “Milton told me you were living out of your car.”

  Without looking up, he answered, “I was. But then Ellen asked me to give the car to her. So she has it.”

  “And you’re living where?”

  “I sold my clothes and laptop and phone to pay for a room in a motel. But I’m out of money now.”

  “So where were you going to go?”

  Jamie finally looked up into my eyes. “Why do you care?”

  “Honestly? I’m worried. Because I care about you. You seem like you want to give up, and I don’t want you to do that.”

  He looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to give up, either. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Stick with me,” I said, desperately, grasping for straws. “I know exactly what you’re going through, Jamie. I can help you get through this.”

  He scoffed. “You know exactly what I’m going through? You lied and hurt the person in the world who loves you most?”

  I shook my head and took a deep breath. But then I realized—“Actually, yes. My mom and dad. They love me more than anybody, and I hate letting them down. Because they want me not to be gay, and I told them I wouldn’t be. But I can’t keep…repressing who I am.”

  “That isn’t what I’m doing.”

  “I didn’t say it was. I’m just saying that I get it. If anybody knows how it feels, I do. Stick with me. We’ll figure out what you need, together. Okay?”

  “I don’t want to be around somebody like you, Paul.”

  Oh, that one hurt. I began to feel sorry for Dylan, the boyfriend from Jamie’s past. This is what it was like to be loved and left by Jamie. It was brutal; he really knew how to hit where it hurt.

  Jamie’s denial was interrupted by the return of Lynn and Trent, bearing sushi from our favorite place downtown.

  “I texted you earlier, Paul,” she said casually, while Trent asked Jamie to come pick out what he wanted. I looked at my phone.

  Is your friend okay? Lynn had written. Ugh. My friend. That felt awfully optimistic at the moment.

  I wrote back, I think he is seriously depressed and going through some major self-hatred. I’m worried. I know him from Freedom!!

  Then I went to pick out my own sushi rolls, while Trent woke up Steven. He came out of the bedroom in nothing but boxer shorts, and Jamie looked totally scandalized by the lithe, blonde, beautiful man walking down the hall.

  “Oh! We have company!” he said, grinning at Jamie as though he didn’t even notice the look of horror on his face. Then he smiled at me and gave me a tiny wink. Even having just woken up, his usual enthusiasm was only slightly dampened. Probably because it was already almost noon. If you wake him before 8 a.m., though—watch out.

  “How was the show last night?” I asked him. He’d been filling in as a guest hostess for the drag nights at The Beat ever since our very eventful visit, and last night he was also scheduled to perform for the first time. Since last time was so controversial, Steven insisted I didn’t come last night. (Still being totally embarrassed and wanting to avoid Eric, I didn’t argue very much.)

  “I was fierce, as always, what do you expect?” He peered into the bags of sushi, then looked expectantly at Trent. “California roll?”

  “In the black box,” Trent answered.

  “The smallest box!”

  “You’re the only one who likes it,” Trent said, smiling. Then he turned to look at me and said, “I can confirm, he was fierce.”

  “I never doubted you.”

  “Eric wasn’t there, in case you wondered,” Steven volunteered, and then he glanced at Jamie. “Who’s this?”

  “That’s a friend of mine,” I said. “Jamie, this is Steven—he’s Trent’s boyfriend, and one of my best friends ever.”

  Steven barely betrayed the smallest recognition when I said this was Jamie. He knew how mortified I would be if he let on that he knew who it was, but I could tell he did. Instead, he beamed at me. “Best friend ever? Better than Tay?”

  “I said ‘one of,’ Steven. You kids, always fighting over who’s the favorite.”

  “He thinks I’m the favorite, too.”

  Jamie was uncomfortably watching us, and it would have been impossible to miss the look of disgust on his face when I introduced Steven as Trent’s boyfriend. He said, “I should leave.”

  I knew he would be weird about Steven and Trent, but I was hoping Lynn would be able to calm him down. She didn’t disappoint.

  “Stay,” she said, smiling. “At least for lunch. We ordered enough for everybody, and leftover sushi is basically inedible.” She guided Jamie toward the couch and sat beside him herself. I wanted to send her one more text to warn her that he might say some seriously offensive things, but I didn’t know how to do it without him seeing it. Maybe I could get a moment alone with Trent or Steven to pass along the message to them.

  But it didn’t end up mattering. Jamie and Lynn talked quietly with each other for the whole meal, while Steven relived his show for me and Trent looked on, all proud and obnoxious. Those two.

  After we finished eating, Lynn said loudly enough that I could hear, “Why don’t you move into our extra bedroom? Just so you have somewhere to crash while you work things out with Ellen.”

  “You mean my room?” Steven said. “Thanks for asking!”

  “You never use it,” Lynn said, with a wave of her hand. “I give the best relationship advice, Jamie. I really do. Ask anybody. I am the perfect person to stay with when you’re having relationship trouble.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “I don’t want his room,” he said. “And I should really go.”

  I looked at Steven, who seemed oblivious to my panic and pleased to see him go. Lynn also seemed to think this was less of a problem than it was. I could see the wheels in their heads turning: So what if Paul’s haughty, homophobic friend decided to cut lunch short?

  He headed out of the apartment after a very short goodbye, and I stared at the closed door behind him. Was that really it?

  Lynn kicked my feet lightly to get my attention. “Hey. What was that about? Your friend is upset because he cheated on his wife?”

  “No, that’s not why,” Steven said. Only the smallest quiver in his voice betrayed that he was hurt by the way Jamie treated him. “That’s his spectacular non-gay friend, Lynn. The guy from conversion therapy.”

  I was about to clarify why Jamie had been there when I felt suddenly, strongly, that I should go after him. “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  I ran down the stairs and onto the street, but I didn’t see Jamie anywhere. Unless he’d been running too, I should have seen him somewhere—there wasn’t really anywhere for him to hide on this street.

  Unless he hadn’t gone downstairs.

  In a greater panic, I ran up, all the way to the top floor of the building. Then I took the stairs to the roof. We’d all gone up here once bef
ore, when school first started, to set off fireworks. It had been such a thrill then; we knew they weren’t allowed, and if we got caught, we’d get into so much trouble. But we hadn’t been caught, and we’d laughed hysterically as we ran back downstairs.

  It was nothing like that today. I came out the door to see him standing, not too close to the edge of the building, but close enough to make me nervous. He was staring out at the sky.

  “There you are,” I said, stopping to catch my breath with my hands on my knees.

  “What are you doing up here?” Jamie asked.

  “I…I wanted to catch you before you…left.”

  He stared seriously at me, and I stared back, not wanting to back down. Then he took a step closer to the edge. This wasn’t okay anymore; this wasn’t funny. Behavior like this was a cry for help.

  “Jamie, come stay with me and Taylor.”

  “What?”

  “Our dorm room is small, but we have a main room with a couch. You can crash there. Somewhere safe to go, to collect your thoughts.”

  “I don’t want to be around you, Paul. Don’t you get it? You’re part of the problem.”

  Ouch. But this wasn’t personal, I told myself. This was about him and what he needed. So I shook my head. “You said…you said everybody turned their backs on you. But it wasn’t true. I didn’t turn my back, and I never will. You’ve just said some pretty shitty things to me, but I’m still not turning my back on you. I’m here, and I want to help. Okay? I’ll find a way to help you do whatever it is you need to do. Before anything else, we were friends, Jamie. Remember that? I’m still your friend. Let me be your friend.”

  Jamie had been staring defiantly into the clouds, but I was getting through to him. He had turned to look at me, and by the time I finished, he looked totally defeated. He took a deep breath and sat down on the cement floor, hanging his arms and head over his knees.

  Finally, he said, “How? How can you help?”

  “You can use my student number to access the university counseling center. You can talk to them and see if they can’t help you figure out…things with Ellen.”