by Sam Ledel
It’s quiet. So quiet that I momentarily think my dad pulled a vanishing act. But when I lift my head, there he is. His mouth is open, midsentence. After what seems like an hour, he clears his throat before continuing. “Girlfriend,” he says slowly. I watch him nod. “Yes, that’s right.” I give him our hotel address, which he passes on to Kim. Then he thanks her again, and hangs up.
My dad’s gaze is lasered in on his cup of water, which drips condensation onto the table. I realize I’m shaking and briefly wonder if I can flatten myself against the seat so much that I just disappear into it and am able to run from what will inevitably be the most awkward conversation of my life. But before I can, my dad speaks.
“Kim will get your…she’ll get Jax a safe ride back to your hotel. She said she found her near the pool tables.”
I nod, grateful. “Thank you. And, um, tell Kim thank you, too.”
“I will.” He pauses. “Sounds like your friend was pretty drunk.”
I take a deep breath, wondering at the look in my dad’s eyes. For a moment, I think the fear I see in them must be my own, reflected back at me across this cluttered table. But it dawns on me that now, it’s not me who’s scared. It’s not me who is afraid to hear the truth.
“She’s not my friend,” I say slowly. “Jax is my girlfriend.” My dad licks his lips again, then pushes himself back against the booth. His unease, for whatever reason, gives me the courage to continue. “And not, like, girlfriend the way Mom talks about her college roommates. Jax is my…” I exhale through the word again. “Girlfriend.”
My dad’s eyebrows knit closer together, and I practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He takes a slow, deep breath.
“I see. She did look familiar,” he says thoughtfully like he’s choosing his words with the utmost care. “She’s on your team, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
He ponders this a moment. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”
Somehow, my response comes quickly, as if the words have been waiting just below my tongue for ages and can’t wait to be shared. “We’ve been dating for about nine months.” The scene in the bathroom tonight comes back to me, and I shake my head. “Well, we were dating. I don’t think we will be for much longer.”
I look sideways at my dad. His mouth is stretched in a small, knowing smile.
His eyes flicker uncertainly to his hands but manage to meet mine when he says, “I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me.”
My eyes well up and I wipe quickly at them. Biting the inside of my cheek, I take a breath and release the rest of my secrets.
“It’s been so crazy, Dad.” My voice shakes. “Everything since school started. Since high school, really. With soccer and the Tornadoes.” I dance around the words, trying to find the right combination to explain everything I’ve been feeling for the last few years. “I had this crush on Beth, my Tornadoes teammate. And that just started this whole thing.” I speak quickly, breathlessly, but can’t slow down for fear of not being able to start again. “I liked her so much, Dad. And she helped me realized I was…I was gay. And I thought I’d have things worked out by now, but it’s just been so complicated.”
“Complicated?”
“Unbelievably. I, um…do you remember Joey?”
His eyes take in the fluorescent lights buzzing above us. “She’s the one who tagged along to our dinners after your games sometimes last year. The goalie?”
“That’s the one.”
“She’s a very nice young lady.”
I can’t help but laugh at his dad-like comment. “She is. She’s wonderful, actually.”
“Where is she tonight?”
I shrug. “I’m with Jax. And I screwed everything up with Joey.” I squeeze my fists tight and rest my forehead against them. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Dad.”
We sit in silence for a little while. People shuffle in and out the front door. Two women walk by, arm in arm, and I envy the way one of them says something to make the other laugh.
My dad’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. “Do you remember, in the eighth grade, when soccer season coincided with basketball?”
Holding myself after a sudden chill makes me shiver, I fix my gaze on him, uncertain where he’s going with this. “I do.”
“Up until that point, everyone in athletics played multiple sports, including yourself. You got those genes from your mother, by the way.” His eyes crinkle and he continues. “Playing everything was easy to do because the seasons were spread throughout the entire school year. Besides, you were good at them all, so why not?”
I pick at the edges of a sugar packet plucked from behind the salt shaker as he continues. “But then, when basketball and soccer were both happening simultaneously, the coaches encouraged everyone to choose between the two. Except you—”
“Tried to play both.”
He nods. “I remember your excitement in the beginning. You came home, practically bouncing off the walls announcing that you’d made both teams. You were so thrilled, and your mom and I were very proud.” He smiles, his eyes distant. “But after about two weeks, you started missing basketball practices because of soccer games. You would come home exhausted. And your grades took a dive.”
I dip my head, my eyes concentrating on the granules packed inside the pink wrapper. “How come you and Mom let me do that?”
He chuckles. “You were so headstrong! You still are,” he adds with a nudge of my hand. “Besides, we figured you wouldn’t make it the entire three months. And we were right. After about five weeks, you finally quit the basketball team.”
I remember that day. I hadn’t been so physically exhausted until then; as tired, I realize, as I feel now. “I thought I could manage it all.”
“We all want to believe that we can please everybody, Kyle. I think some part of you felt like you’d be disappointing everyone if you didn’t try to do both. Like if you had just picked one team right off the bat, you would be letting the other one down.”
His words are like a bandage being slowly pulled from an old wound. My skin feels raw, exposed, and I wrap my arms around myself like they might cover the vulnerability seeping from my bones.
After a minute, I lean back and rest my palms on the red pleather of our booth. My dad does the same.
“Your mom and I have always loved you, Kyle. And we always will. No matter what.”
My eyes brim with tears again, and I blink them back, turning toward the window. The weight of what felt like eight different worlds steps off my shoulders, and at that moment, I forget the bar. I forget the puke stuck to the bottom of my shoes. I even forget Kim. And I forget Jax.
For the first time in our lives, we have spoken the truth. It’s out. Our perfect family image that took years of effort to build is finally beginning to wear at the edges.
And God, does it feel good.
Chapter Forty-Four
“And then what happened?”
I cough more sobs into the phone. Emily waits patiently while I blow my nose. “Well, after telling my dad all about the last two years, about everything really, he helped me find Jax. It was Kim, actually, who managed to corral her and get her out of the bar. She was drunk out of her mind, otherwise…otherwise, I would have done it then and there.”
“Broken up with her?”
I nod. “But I knew if I did it then, she wouldn’t even remember.”
“Probably accurate.”
I wipe my nose and toss the Kleenex into the already full trash can next to my bed. “Yeah. Not sure how that’s going to go when the time comes.”
“Where is she now?”
“At home,” I say, leaning back against the wall behind my bed. “I canceled our reservation last night, I was so angry. Packed us up and drove us back here. Put her to bed and came home.”
“Well, hey,” Emily says, her voice soft. “I just got out of a Sunday study session at the library. How about I come over for a bit? We can
talk about all of this. I’ll bring donuts!”
I smile. “That sounds good, Em. Thanks.”
* * *
“I brought glazed, cinnamon twists, and bear claws!” Emily says excitedly as I let her into my apartment. She stands smiling proudly in front of my door, then looks around, her face falling. “Oh my God, Kyle.”
“I know,” I say, leaning down to scoop up three sweatshirts that have wrapped themselves around the base of my couch. “I’ve been a little preoccupied lately.”
Emily walks over to the table piled with geology books and Spanish practice quizzes. She does a 180 turn, her eyes wide and worried, until she finally sets the box of donuts down on the counter by the sink. “Well,” she says, “nothing a little spring cleaning can’t fix.” She pulls two plates out from my cabinet and hands me one with two bear claws on it.
We wander through my cluttered apartment, Emily hurriedly picking up clothing and tossing it onto my couch on the way to my bedroom, where I return to my desolate pile of pillows and tear-soaked sheets. Emily takes a seat at the edge of my bed, folding her skirt under her knees and taking a bite of a cinnamon twist.
“So,” she says after a few chews, while I pick up more blobs of tissue from under my pillow and dump them into the trash. “Your dad spilled the beans.”
“He did. It’s all out there.”
“And you’re…okay about everything?”
I pick at the donut on my plate. “Honestly, Em? I kind of am. I mean, you know how we are.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “My family always had to put on a show. It didn’t matter if we were throwing a party or just sitting around the dinner table. We never talked about what mattered. Ever. So, yeah, it felt really good to finally hear somebody telling the truth for once. Including myself.”
“You told your dad?”
“I did. About Jax. About Beth. About myself. Everything.” When I look up at her again, Emily has tears in her eyes. She sets her plate down and leans over to hug me. She lets out a string of Spanish, her voice filled with relief.
“You either said you’re extremely proud of me, or there’s a bear in the kitchen.”
Laughing, she sits back and wipes at her eyes. “What do you know? Your Spanish is improving.”
I blink back tears and wipe my dripping nose. “It did feel pretty incredible to finally tell him.” Emily watches me. “Part of me still can’t believe I did it.”
“I always knew you could,” she tells me.
I lean back against my bed frame, a new lightness overcoming me.
After a minute, Emily rearranges herself on the bed. “So, what now?”
I shrug. “Well, remember that big fight my parents had on New Year’s, the one I told you Kevin called me about? I guess they had been talking about separating. My dad wants to move to Austin. My mom was still holding out, to keep face, I guess. But I think maybe now they’ll be able to make progress on that.”
Emily picks at my comforter. “And Kevin? How is he?”
“Dad told me he’s going to talk to him. But I have a feeling he’ll be okay.”
“Your brother’s more mature than half the team,” Emily says, then bites into her cinnamon twist. “His range for dealing with emotions has always been impressive.”
I laugh. “I know. I think he should’ve been born first.”
Emily chuckles. Just then, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I glance at Emily, who shrugs and says, “Don’t look at me.”
“I thought you were kidding when you said you were going to order a pizza,” I tell her, playfully nudging her leg as I get up.
“I was kidding!” she shouts through a mouthful of donut as I make my way through the living room.
I laugh and open the door. “Pepperoni or pineapple?” I ask to who I realize is not a delivery person but instead a very confused-looking Joey.
“Um, pineapple?” she says as the branches sway behind her outside.
“Joey?” I ask. “What…um…what are you doing here?”
“Not delivering pizza, I’m afraid to say.”
“Joey!” Emily scurries up to stand next to me at the door. “Hi!”
“Oh, hey, Emily,” she says, brushing a hand through her hair. “I just wanted to drop these off.” She holds up a folder. “Coach’s summer workout. You missed the meeting last week.”
It takes me a few seconds to remember what she’s talking about. My brain seems to only register the tint of her hair in the afternoon sun. Emily nudges me when I don’t respond. “Oh, right. Last week.” I clear my throat and step aside so Joey can come in. “I had that geology lab.”
“That’s so nice of you to drop those off,” Emily says, skipping over to the table to clear a spot for Joey to place the folder. I notice her scanning the room, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are curious but kind when she eventually asks, “Are you two having one of your Sunday movie days or something?”
“Actually…” Emily says, and I can tell she’s about to launch into another made-up excuse. Reluctantly, I take a deep breath. At this point, there’s no room for excuses anymore.
“Actually, Emily came over because I’m a mess. If you can’t tell,” I say, gesturing to the room. Joey raises an eyebrow. I glance at Emily, whose eyebrows are shooting up over her glasses. “The truth is, yesterday was one of the worst and best nights of my life. My dad told me that he and my mom are going to separate. I met his new girlfriend, and she’s actually not that bad. She helped me chase down my drunk girlfriend. Who, by the way, will no longer be my girlfriend once she wakes up from her hangover. Oh, and I saw Rocky Horror live.”
Emily’s mouth hangs open, and she stares at me and Joey, who slowly nods. After a few moments, Joey says, “Well, I hear that’s a great show.”
“It was.”
Joey’s gaze holds mine, and Emily eventually clears her throat. “You know what, I’m…um…I just remembered Alex wanted my opinion on this piece he’s working on.” She runs into my room and hurries back out with a bear claw. “To go,” she says before grabbing her purse off the counter and heading for the door. “Sorry to rush out.” She turns to me. “Kyle, call me later, okay?” I nod and she glances at Joey. “Help yourself to the donuts.”
“Thanks. I’ll make sure Kyle doesn’t eat them all.” The three of us grin. I move to open the door for Emily, who waves before dashing to her car in the parking lot. I stand for a moment, leaning against the open doorway. The spring breeze feels nice on my face. I take a deep breath when Joey says, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I close my eyes. I can’t remember the last time Joey and I even had a conversation. Or the last time she and I were alone. Her being here now, standing across the room, makes every part of me feel calm. But I shake my head and open my eyes to the clear sky. “It’s beautiful out there.”
Joey fiddles with the papers on my table. “Springtime in Texas,” she says. “If there’s not a tornado or a freak hail storm, it’s pretty gorgeous.” She reaches out to lean against one of the chairs. “My parents have these magnolia trees back home.” Her voice is distant, and I see her eyes shift, conjuring the memory from the back of her mind. “I always loved lying underneath them this time of year. Their scent would cling to my T-shirts, and I’d refuse to let my mom wash them. I wanted to smell like those trees all the way into summer.” She stands upright, as if sharing such a thing surprised her back to the present. “Bluebonnets are nice, too, I guess.”
It hits me how much I missed her. When she moves to join me in the doorway, I cross my arms and look up at her. “Thanks for coming by. And thanks for not judging me,” I add, gesturing to my baggy sweatpants and messy ponytail.
Joey shrugs. “We’re friends, right? That’s what friends do.”
When I look into her eyes, they’re unbelievably clear. Like the sharp edge of a quartz crystal. The blue in them matches her shirt that she wears under a brown jacket. “Well, thanks again,” I tell her. “And tell Andrea hi for me. She and I had
Spanish together last semester.”
This time Joey crosses her arms and leans against the open doorjamb. “Andrea?”
“Yeah, you know. You two have been going out.”
Joey cocks her head. “Where did you hear that from?”
My face grows warm. “Well, Elaine mentioned that…”
Joey laughs. “Oh yes. The team gossip train. I should have known.” I grimace and shrug. Joey stands up. “That ship sailed a couple months ago. But if I see her, I’ll tell her you say hello,” Joey says with a grin.
“Oh.” I look down, hoping the blush in my cheeks fades quickly. “Well, thanks again anyway, for swinging by.”
“Sure, short stack.”
A strong gust of wind suddenly blows through. The door flies against me, pushing me forward, then it bangs into the wall with a sharp thud.
“Whoa,” Joey says, helping me grab hold of it. Together we push against the howling tunnel of wind and manage to close the door. I’m laughing when she says, “You were saying about the weather?” Still smiling, I turn so that my back rests against the now closed door. Joey’s palms are flat against it, her arms up over me where she had pressed the door shut. I swallow and she does the same, her gaze floating down from my eyes to my lips.
She lowers one of her arms and her fingers carefully dance along my hairline, then trace the side of my face. My eyes don’t leave hers, but that pit in my stomach from the last twenty-four hours is gone. In its place is that feeling. That feeling I’d had that night at Alex’s party. The feeling I was sure both of us felt in that silly shower stall over a year ago. It’s the feeling I was convinced I could hide underneath drunken nights with Jax. That feeling I’d told myself I was better off running from.
But what if I didn’t this time?
I lift myself up off the door, tilting my chin up. Joey smiles and her palm cups my face gently.
“Kyle?” she says, her voice soft.
“Yeah?”
“I really should be going.”
I nod and breathe for the first time in what feels like days. But Joey’s hand doesn’t move from my face. We’re closer now. Her warm breath caresses my cheek and before I can help myself, I close the gap between us. My lips brush hers lightly at first, but that’s all it takes for that feeling to spread like wildfire. Her hand pulls my face closer, and she’s returning my kiss. Our lips move together, just like they did the first time. Except this is different. That night in Alex’s apartment, I was scared and excited and wondering what everything meant under those dancing blue lights. I had no idea what I really wanted. I didn’t know what to think. But now I know I have been lying to myself, ever since that moment, about what I was truly feeling.