Shane stirred at my side; the shift in my mood must have been obvious even though he slept soundly no more than a minute ago. He rolled over and faced me, a sleepy grin lazily spreading across his relaxed face.
“Morning,” he yawned as he stretched his arms above his head.
“What happened?” My words were clipped, angry. Not at him. At his asshole father. God, what I wouldn’t give to beat the crap out of that man.
It took him a minute to realize what I was talking about. He sat up, pulled the blanket over his lap, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, can we not talk about this?” He made no effort to hide his frustration.
“No. I’m done ignoring this. He’s abusing you. He’s been abusing you and Reid for years. It’s wrong, so fucking wrong, Shane.” I was begging for him to talk to me about it. He had to see it in my eyes, hear it in my voice.
“Fine. Then what do you want to know?” He folded his arms across his chest, glaring at me.
“Why?” I knew there was no logical explanation, no excusable reason for anyone to lay their hands on another person, especially a parent, but I had to know what happened.
“You really want to know?” There was an edge of meanness to that question, one that I chose to ignore. I nodded, wordlessly telling him to continue.
“Because of you,” he said as his face morphed into a twisted, shameful look.
All the air in my lungs was gone. “How?”
“I waited until the last minute to spring this trip on him. I knew he’d want to come and meet the coach or some shit like that. So I said it was an impromptu thing and that I’d just crash with you.” His earlier frustration now shifted into sorrow. “He said he had some suspicions about you. Called you some choice words.” Shane’s tone was so full of apology. My heart sank knowing he’d suffered because he’d defended me. “I tried to shut him up. It was the first time in my entire life that I ever fought back, but I wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough. He knocked me down to the floor and shoved his knee in my back. He made his feelings perfectly clear, so as far as he’s concerned, I’m staying with another guy on the team. I’m actually surprised he didn’t call the coach and drive me here himself.”
I sat there listening to that whole story with my mouth open in disbelief. He’d actually defended me. No wonder coming out was never going to be an option to him. Suddenly, all of his fears from when we were sneaking around before I left for school came barreling into me, made me feel like an asshole for even trying to push him into something for which he wasn’t ready.
“Come here.” I tugged his hand until he scooted next to me. “Please tell me from now on. I know you feel powerless, but maybe talking about it will help. I wish you’d tell someone, but I won’t push you. Just know that I’m here.” We exchanged a sad smile before he agreed to call me if things got too out of control.
I wanted to ask him about why he had gotten so thin, why he looked so haggard, but after that story, the answer was pretty clear.
I’d never felt so powerless. Even though I was silently vowing to try to help him, I felt completely useless because I just didn’t know how.
We lingered in bed the rest of the day, alternating between talking and fooling around, stopping only for a meal or a quick shower.
After waking from a late afternoon nap, our bubble had to burst.
“We should get ready. My roommate wants to meet you. I said we’d join him and his girlfriend for dinner.” I felt Shane’s body stiffen in nervousness. “Relax, Shane. They’re good people and there’s no need to hide our relationship while you’re here. We’re safe; I promise.”
I hated that I even had to say those kinds of things to him, but I knew he needed the reassurance. “You’re right, Dyl. I’m sorry.” He gave me a quick peck and I felt him relax. “It’ll just take some getting used to; that’s all.” Smiling lamely, I stood from the bed.
He followed behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pressing his cheek against my shoulder. “It’ll be good for you to see that we’ve got nothing to hide.” Covering his hands with mine was a lame attempt at reassurance because as soon as the words were out there, I regretted them. I looked at his face in the mirror that hung above my dresser after I pulled a shirt out.
He rolled his eyes and pulled away from me. “Don’t start in on me about the coming out shit again.” His defensiveness was unmistakable. I was an asshole. Tonight was definitely not the night to push the issue, especially after what he’d revealed to me earlier.
I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. “Fine.” I changed tactics. Holding my hands up, palms out, in front of me, I surrendered. “I was wrong. I’m an asshole.” He chuckled and allowed me to step closer to him.
“You really can be sometimes.” He rolled his eyes again before hooking his thumbs into the front pockets of my jeans.
“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you later,” I whispered seductively against his neck as I nuzzled close to him.
He laughed once more. “That sounds like an excellent plan.”
Chapter Ten
October 15, 2007
Choking back the rising emotion that was in a race with the bile was pointless. It was Monday morning and since neither of us had a morning class, we still had another hour left before I had to leave to head back home.
Something changed in me this weekend. It was more than just what happened between Dylan and me. I felt like there was an ominous cloud hanging overhead, threatening to open up and rain down on me at any moment. Panic rose in my chest and I tried my best to bury it down, but there was no use. Drowning in my own depression, this weekend was a false reprieve at best. The thought of walking away from Dylan and not seeing him again for another month was pretty much unbearable, especially knowing what was waiting for me back at home.
Some days, I thought about how much easier it would be if I just didn’t have to deal with it all. Lying about being gay was difficult enough before this weekend. Now, it felt like it would be impossible to hide. And with Dad’s cold, hard malice weighing me down, breaking free from this sadness became an even dimmer hope.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Dylan tapped on the small café table at the campus coffee shop where we stopped to grab breakfast before I hit the road.
I shook away my bleak thoughts and took a sip of my coffee. “Sorry, just distracted I guess.” It was a lame cop-out, but so much easier than getting into all the shit swirling around in my head.
“The fall training season is over in two weeks, but with mid-terms and all that, I’m not sure if I can make it home before Thanksgiving. Any chance you can get back out here?” There was a child-like hope in his eyes as he waited for my answer. It was a hope I didn’t have the energy to mimic.
“Uh, yeah. I mean, I’ll try.” Dylan reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“You sure you’re okay?” I actually surprised myself by not pulling my hand away from him. It was crazy to think that even in three short days of being with him out in public, I had grown so much more comfortable with small displays of affection.
None of that mattered now, though. I was going home. Alone. I’d still have to hide who I was there, and I’d have no one to hold my hand through that.
Luckily, John walked up to us, breaking the stilted silence. “Hey, man.” He extended his hand to me. “Glad I didn’t miss you.”
I looked down at my watch as I stood from the table. “I was actually just about to head out.” Dylan stood too and I could see my sadness mirrored in his face.
“It was really great to meet you. Dylan had so many great things to say about you. I was beginning to think he’d made you up.”
Knowing that Dylan thought about me probably just as much as I thought about him while we were apart caused a smile to spread across my face. “Thanks again for everything. I’ll see you soon.” I shook John’s hand again; truly thankful he’d done everything in his power to make me feel welcome.
Dylan walke
d me to my car. He leaned against the front door as I tossed my bag in the back seat. “Text me when you get home. I just want to know you got there safe. Okay?”
I jammed my hands into my back pockets and rocked on my heels as I nodded at him. He pulled me into his arms and placed a soft, lingering kiss in the crook of my neck. Without moving his lips, he spoke against my skin. “It’ll get better, Shane. I promise.” He held me tighter, and I tried my best to pull some strength from him.
It was futile, because as I slid into my seat and drove away, watching him get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror, I knew that what I was driving toward was anything but better than what I was driving away from.
Rain started pouring down in sheets within minutes of starting to drive. The grey and gloomy weather outside was an appropriate match for how I was feeling on the inside. Sure, I told Dylan about part of the fight I had with my father, but I held back the most hurtful parts—the parts I knew would push him over the edge.
“I better not find out that you’re still friends with that fag,” my father sneered, poking his finger at my chest.
My jaw was clenched so tightly, I thought I might crack a tooth. “Yes, sir,” I gritted out, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.
“That’s all you have to say? He’s a fucking homo and all you have to say is ‘Yes, sir’?” A humorless laugh flew from his mouth and hateful anger glinted in his eyes. My stomach clenched in tight knots. If he was acting this way about Dylan being gay, there was no way in hell I’d ever survive coming out in this house. He was making that crystal clear. Visions of the chaos that my identity would cause swarmed in my brain as he muttered a long string of curses at Dylan.
“Are you listening? I asked you a question, boy.” My father’s hand banded around my upper arm and he shook me violently. Shit, lost in my own head, I hadn’t been paying attention.
“I−I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “What did you say?” The back of his hand connected with my jaw. The force sent me back a few steps and I tasted the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.
He twisted the collar of my shirt in his hand, pulled my face up to his, and grinned like a mad fool. I stared into his dead eyes, unable to hide the fear. He saw it and just grinned more. He knew he’d won; he won a long time ago. I was a scared little shit when it came to my father and he took advantage of that whenever he could.
“You don’t think it’s okay that he’s queer, do you?” he repeated the question I hadn’t heard before and bile rose in my throat. I only had a split second to say something, any delay would be perceived as going against him. So even though it crushed my heart not to stand up for Dylan, for what we had become—for me, I shook my head. “No, sir. It’s not okay.”
He released my shirt, shoving me back in the process. “Stay away from him, you understand.” I nodded again as shame filled every ounce of my body.
The loud blare of a truck horn shook me out of my memory. I swerved back into my lane, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled force. Recalling what happened between my father and me altered me somehow.
In all the years he told me I was useless, a failure, I always held on to some kind of hope that I would be able to do something that would make him change his mind. I could play ball better. I could get better grades. I could be a better son. But his adamant hatred of Dylan simply because he was gay opened my eyes to the brutal truth.
I would never be good enough.
Being with Dylan this weekend also opened my eyes—and my heart—to an even bigger truth.
I was in love with the one person who would change my world forever.
The decision was up to me. Either I let my father win and allowed fear to dominate my life, or I fought back, stood up for Dylan and for myself, and finally broke free.
The sun peeked through the clouds as I pulled off the interstate and the answer became clear. There was no choice to be made. It was Dylan. It had always been him and it always would be him. As I got closer to home, my determination to break away from my family became stronger. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel afraid. I felt renewed and Dylan had given that to me.
Pulling down my block, I punched out a quick text to Dylan, letting him know that I made it home all right and that I’d call him later. I was so excited to tell him that I’d finally built up enough courage to confront my father that I didn’t even see the car parked in front of my house.
I walked through the front door to a sound so foreign, I actually took a second to make sure I was in the right house.
Laughter, loud and booming came from the dining room.
My father laughed? Who knew?
I dropped my bag on the stairs and poked my head into the kitchen. That’s when my world spun on its axis.
It was Alex.
What the hell was she doing here? Why was she talking with my father?
She caught sight of me first, noticing my confused face over my father’s shoulder. Her face lit up into a bright smile. “Hey, Shane.” Her smile got bigger and she walked toward me. Looping her arm through mine, she leaned against my side. A wry smile pulled at her lips as she winked at me. I had no clue what she was up to, but this was by far the warmest reception I’d ever received walking into my own home.
“It’s a shame I had to meet your girlfriend like this.” My father stared at me before clapping me on the shoulder as he walked to my other side.
Girlfriend?
My ears had to be playing tricks on me because there was absolutely no way Alex was my girlfriend. That didn’t stop her from stretching up on her tiptoes and popping a kiss on my cheek. Was she delusional?
“I’ll let you two catch up. I have an afternoon meeting I need to get to. Lucky for Alex here I had to stop home and grab something. Otherwise, that poor girl would just be sitting out there waiting for you, Shane.” His glare returned, but he actually beamed at Alex.
“Have a nice day at work, Mr. Connely.” Alex waved at my father as he walked past us and out the front door.
As soon as I heard his car door slam shut, I pulled my arm away from hers. “What the hell?”
She stood there, hands on her hips, looking at me like I’d just slapped her. I brushed by her and into the living room. Flopping back onto the couch with a loud sigh, I interlaced my fingers together behind my head. As she sat next to me, she had enough sense to wipe away the smug look from a minute ago. She actually looked sorry.
“You told him you were my girlfriend?” I turned to face her, frustration making my body rigid and tense. “We had coffee. Once. I never said anything about dating you.”
She dropped her hand to my thigh. “It was good coffee, though. Wasn’t it?” Her laughter was soft at first, but it soon became infectious. Laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, I let myself go. I’d just gotten home from a secret weekend getaway with my boyfriend to walk into a home I hate, a fake girlfriend waiting inside.
“Look,” her words cut through the laughter, and we both settled, “I didn’t actually tell him I was your girlfriend. Really, I was just stopping by to drop off your sweatshirt. You left it in the car.”
I arched an eyebrow at her, pulling a face. “Really?” I asked skeptically.
“Yes, really,” she snipped, but then quickly smiled. “I just didn’t correct him when he assumed we were dating,” she added sheepishly, keeping her eyes locked on her twisted-together hands.
Like a lightning bolt splitting the sky, a thought cracked through my mind. I covered her hands with one of mine, timidly, because for all intents and purposes, I barely knew her. She peeked up at me, her eyes hidden under her long, thick lashes. “Look, I’m sorry for lashing out. Maybe we could get together again.” She bounced in her seat, letting me know, not only that she was excited about that idea, but also that I had to tread lightly. If I was going to use her to lie to my family, to make my life a bit easier until I could get out, then I was going to have to walk a fine line with her. “I’m not making any promises.
Let’s get to know each other and see where things go, okay?” I felt like I was talking to a small child.
“I’d like that.” She calmed her bouncing and looked at me expectantly.
I stood from the couch and walked her to the front door. She spun on her heels as I opened the door for her. “You’ll call, right?” Her hands went to my chest and I stared down at them like they were claws. It felt as if she was trying to make her mark. Something in my head screamed, you landed a crazy one here. But the idea of possibly getting my father off my case, and being able to breathe around here outweighed that voice.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you soon.” She stretched up and kissed my cheek before strutting down the driveway.
After closing the door, I shook my head, trying to rid myself of my own stupidity. What the hell had I just gotten myself into?
November 16, 2007
The next few weeks went by in a blur. Even though I was weighed down by midterms and studying, my grades were actually improving, much to my shock. I wished I could have said the same thing about my mental state. Balancing the fake relationship with Alex and the very real relationship with Dylan was becoming unbearable. I couldn’t tell him about her or her about him, and I felt as if the ground was just going to crack open and swallow me whole at any moment.
Alex had been to my house a handful of times. My father welcomed her with open arms and I couldn’t, for the life of me, ever figure out why he was so warm to her when all he’d ever give me was the icy coldness of his fists. To make matters worse, Reid seemed to tiptoe around her; uncertainty hung in the air whenever the two of them were in the same room.
I was packing up my things in the library, getting ready to head home for a late night study session when Scott came up to me.
“Hey, man. So I hear you and my sister are hitting things off.” Shaking my head, I laughed. Of course, Alex would tell her brother.
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