The Bright Side Brigade

by Elaine White

  Papi gave him a squeeze of a hug, then held his hand out and waited for Ryder to hand over his backpack. When he did, the parental figure he wished was his own dad led the way to the car, carefully put his backpack in the back seat and held the passenger door open for him.

  He climbed in, relieved that he'd found the guts to phone, even though he hadn't really believed Donald when he first made the offer. Tonight, he hadn't had the luxury of belief; he just knew what had to be done.

  Now, maybe he could get some sleep without worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

  A full night's sleep was a blessing. It came after a heart-warming welcome hug from Donald's dad and a cup of hot chocolate. He still didn't know either of their names, as he said goodnight to both parents, but that was okay. Being asked to call them Papi and Dad was kind of nice. A little like how Sterling's Pops had everyone call him 'Pops' because it was something he would readily answer to.

  He figured years’ worth of parenting should be adhered to.

  First thing in the morning, Ryder was up and ready for another day of therapy and one big step towards his 'recovery', according to Pops. He showered, dressed, and took a few minutes to look around Donald's room before heading downstairs. He could tell a lot about a person by looking at their room and Donald's spoke volumes; there were a heap of comic books organised neatly into boxes on the bookcase, alongside battered old paperbacks, with two spots missing.

  Ryder guessed those two missing books were with Donald now, since holding a book was good exercise for his damaged muscles. The fact they were large gaps and looked to be books three and four of a series wasn't surprising at all. He'd already learned that Donald loved books.

  The next row down was reserved for his fandom ornaments, postcards and collector's items, which were neatly arranged to show off each to its best advantage.

  He'd been visiting with Donald a lot, but in the times he wasn't there, his RPG friends came over for a few hours to play the game with him. That, along with the constant company, was keeping him upbeat and brighter than he'd been those first few days.

  As Ryder wandered around the room, taking in the books, games and a set of diaries he didn't dare look at, he thought back on those first few days. Donald had been so quiet, withdrawn from most conversation and paranoid about the thought of going back to school only to be ridiculed or gossiped about.

  Which were the same fears that stopped Ryder from going back. As the school's suspected attacker for that whole first week, he knew it would be hard to shake the suspicions until Donald went back to school. But he had no reasonable excuse to use, if he wanted to stay off school until Donald was ready to go back.

  In fact, checking his watch, he cursed and realised he was going to be late if he didn't leave soon. He left the room reluctantly and tried to be quiet as he descended to the ground floor and walked into the kitchen to grab a drink.

  Ryder stopped short as he saw Papi and Dad sitting at the table with newspapers and talking quietly about what they were reading. The skid of his trainers stopping his progress made them look up and smile.

  “Morning, sweetheart. Breakfast?” Donald's dad asked, gesturing for him to have a seat as he used his free hand to tuck his newspaper away. “I don't know what you like, so I made some of Donald's favourites,” he explained, pointing to a plate of pancakes, a plate with two bacon sandwiches and a bowl with a small one-person box of cereal in it. His favourite kind, too – the chocolate ones!

  “Um,” Ryder took his seat and stared in wonder at the array of food in front of him, “this is amazing. But, I...um...have to get going soon. Can I just snag one of the sandwiches?” he asked, reaching for the plate with the bacon goodness on it.

  Before he'd finished, Donald's dad was on his feet. “Of course. I'll pack up the pancakes and you can have them later. Maybe take them to Donald,” he suggested, grabbing a Tupperware box from a top cupboard, before proceeding to pack away the cereal box, the pancakes and add a banana. “Tell him to at least try the banana. He likes them, but it's also good exercise,” he insisted.

  Ryder gladly held his hands out and accepted the box. “Thank you. I'll tell him,” he promised, unable to stop smiling in wonder. “And, thank you. This is–” He stopped and took a deep breath. “It's kind of nice not to have to do everything myself,” he admitted, stuffing another bite of his sandwich into his mouth, so that he couldn't say any more.

  It wasn't fair to dump his horrible home life on these two wonderful parents, but he was so sick of always being the adult and the parent. Just because he was the mistake that forced his proper parents to get married after a one night stand and Nico was the perfect little bundle of joy they'd planned. It shouldn't mean he had to spend his whole life fending for himself. If they hadn't wanted him, they should have given him to someone who did.

  It sucked knowing that he was the unwanted one.

  Before he could start ruminating over that too much, thanks to Pops bursting that particular secret bubble by accident in their last session, Ryder stood and tucked the box under his arm, as he grabbed the second half of his sandwich and swallowed.

  “Thanks again. I have a meeting with Pops first thing, then I'll see Donald for lunch,” he explained, backing away from the table.

  “Oh, let me drive you,” Donald's dad insisted, still standing, but reaching for his keys on the side counter.

  “No, thank you. It's okay. I have a lot to think about before I get there, so the walk will clear my head,” he admitted, because he had a feeling he was finally ready to do something that he'd never really planned to do. Something that Pops hadn't exactly been pushing for, but which he'd left in Ryder's hands.

  Being here, living in Donald's shoes – or rather, the nicer side of his life – for just a few hours, had given him the confidence he needed. He was ready and it was all thanks to Donald. That crazily nice kid who had a perfect home life and a nightmare of a social life.

  Chapter 8

  After his therapy session, Ryder sat outside Pops office on a low wall and pulled out his phone. He absently wiped at his cheeks to remove the last signs of his tears; he was getting so used to crying during Pops' sessions that it was almost expected. He pulled up his last text conversation with Karsyn, then he typed a new message, hoping and praying it would go well.

  He had a spare hour, after his session ended early due to the extreme emotions he'd dealt with, so he had a plan to do something before seeing Donald.

  Ryder: Can I cu today?

  Karsyn: Sure. What's up?

  Ryder: I just need to talk and thought, maybe, I should tell you something.

  Karsyn: Okay. My house, 10 mins? I'm at home, on a free period.

  Ryder: Great. I'll cu then.

  Ryder nodded and let out a sigh of relief, as he grabbed the Tupperware box and got to his feet, to make the five minute walk to Karsyn's house. Even taking the long way around, he would get there early, but there was a little park just around the corner he could sit in to waste some extra time.

  When he got to the park, it was full of screaming kids, so he kept walking and knocked on Karsyn's front door, hoping he didn't mind.

  It opened two minutes later, to show Karsyn smiling. “Hey. That was quick,” he said, though he showed no sign of being angry.

  “I was actually at Pops' office, so it was a short walk,” Ryder admitted, relieved that he didn't mind the early arrival. When his old friend stepped back, he walked into the house and took a seat on the sofa. Jareth was lying in front of the fire, so he didn't have to worry about being mauled or sat on.

  Karsyn took an armchair just to the side of him and he couldn't help but wonder if that was to keep distance between them or because that had been where he'd been sitting before answering the door. “So, what's going on?” he asked, sitting back and folding his hands on his stomach.

  “Well, I wanted to apologise for all that shit I pulled a while back,” he began, deciding to get it all out of the way now, while he felt li
ke it.

  He started by talking about his dad and how he'd been the main catalyst for not continuing their friendship when he was younger. That his dad was afraid having such a close male friendship was dangerous, because Karsyn wasn't 'the right sort'.

  His friend scoffed and shook his head. “The right sort? How did your dad know I was gay?” he asked.

  “He didn't. He didn't even care, back then,” Ryder confessed, with a sigh. “You were just too serious about sport. Not the sort for his son to hang out with. Not for the son who was going to be an academic and only do sport to keep fit. If he'd known you were gay, he would have moved me to a new school.”

  Karsyn blinked and slowly grinned, leading into a chuckle. “No need to get overly dramatic there,” he teased, holding his hand out to tell him to stop joking.

  Ryder watched and waited, until Karsyn got the point. It wasn't a joke. Hell, if his dad knew the amount of gay boys and girls in their school – a count close to fifteen of all ages, by Karsyn's count for the Bright Side Brigade – then he'd have moved him away before he had the chance to be 'influenced' by them.

  “You can't be serious,” Karsyn objected.

  All he could do was nod. “Which is why it was impossible for me to come out. Because...I'm bisexual, and I'm sorry to say that I wanted to date you, before this Donald stuff happened,” he admitted, though he wasn't entirely sure why he was apologising for that, “but I went about it all wrong. I was testing you, because I wasn't sure you were gay or not. I had to be sure, before I even thought of doing anything about it,” he explained, hoping Karsyn understood his motives and didn't judge him too harshly.

  Raking a hand through his hair, Ryder was surprised when Jareth got up from the fireplace and crossed to lay his head on Ryder's knee.

  Patting his head, he decided to keep going. “I was scared to come out, so I figured if I had a reason, like a boyfriend, then it would be easier. I'd have something to fight for,” he clarified, only to shake his head and realise how stupid and naïve he'd been. “Now, I know that I need to do it for me. I need to stop being afraid of what might happen, with my dad and at school, because none of my 'worst case scenarios' are as bad as what Donald is going through.”

  Karsyn sighed and leaned over his knees. “You can't keep comparing yourself to someone else,” he objected quietly. “What Donald is going through is an extreme case and that's not going to be you. But he's not the benchmark to compare every decision of your life against, either. You can't think 'my problems are so much less than his, so what am I complaining about' when you're hurting, just because someone else is worse off than you. Your pain is still real,” he argued.

  Ryder nodded and smiled. “That's what Pops told me. But I still feel like I'm ready.”

  “Okay. Then, do you want to come back to school with me?” Karsyn asked, surprising him with the offer. “The group is getting together at lunch, to talk and chill out. You could come meet them, become an official member, if you wanted?” he offered.

  Thinking about it, he realised that this was important, so he nodded and grabbed his phone. “I'll just let Donald know that I'm going to be late,” he explained, already typing out a text promising that he wouldn't be more than ten minutes late.

  “Donald is a nice kid, isn't he?” Karsyn said, out of the blue.

  Looking up, he caught his old friend raising an eyebrow at him. “What are you getting at?”

  “You like him. The pair of you have been inseparable since he went into the hospital,” he noticed, smiling to himself as Jareth turned to give him all of his attention. “It's nice. To see that you have each other, while you go through this. He's a really nice guy and I think you two are adorable together,” he said.

  Ryder swallowed and looked down at his text, before pressing send. “I'm not sure what you're implying, but we're not together. We're not even a 'we',” he protested, though he certainly wouldn't be against it. Getting to know Donald was like finally living the life he'd always wanted for himself; free, unafraid and wanted. “Besides, how are you getting on with Romany?” he asked, turning the tables.

  Karsyn flushed and grinned. “Actually, the whole Donald thing kind of made us realise that we were being stupid. There was nothing to be afraid of, because we already cared about each other. So, we've been dating for a few weeks now and...everything is really good,” he admitted.

  “Mmm-hmm. And what happened to not living your life according to what Donald went through?” he retaliated.

  His old friend opened his mouth and a look of slow realisation appeared that made him shut it again.

  “Yeah. What I thought.” Ryder smiled and relaxed a little. “Want a pancake?” he asked, opening the Tupperware box that still had all six pancakes, the cereal box and the banana for Donald's lunch. He figured he'd never notice or care if two pancakes went missing in celebration of a reunited friendship.

  Karsyn laughed and shook his head. “Sure.” He got up and sat beside Ryder, where they quietly munched on Donald's dad's pancakes, while savouring the last minute rescue of their friendship.

  Twenty minutes later, Ryder walked into a small classroom and froze, as ten people turned to stare at him. All the important LGBT couples of the school were there; Kenichi and Alvin, Sterling and Fearghas, Karsyn and Romany, as well as Harrison, whose boyfriend was too old for school. With them were the allies; Freddie and Ginny, who both waved hello, and one of the lesbian girls he'd met at the last meeting, who was in her final year.

  “Um...hi,” he said, waving to the masses in a panic.

  Karsyn put a hand on his arm and smiled at the group. “Guys, Ryder has a very important announcement that he wants to share with us,” he explained, turning to stare at him with expectation.

  His hands started sweating as he realised he was going to have to 'come out' all over again, to this group. Then to his parents, his brother and possibly to the school. Why was it called 'coming out' when it wasn't a onetime deal? It was more like 'come out' then explain why, sixteen different times, give the same 'coming out' speech a dozen more times and hope to hell that he didn't mess up along the way.

  “Well...um...I'm bisexual. And my dad is a homophobic, racist, bigot and...well...I think I'm about to ask out my first guy,” he rambled, really not sure which confession was more important.

  Next to him, Karsyn grinned and patted his shoulder. When he turned to face the room, everyone was smiling and, if Ryder wasn't mistaken, Freddie had tears in his eyes. He was the first to walk over, throwing both arms around him in a hug.

  “I like boys, too. I like both equally,” he claimed, stunning him so much that he held on and returned the hug.

  It almost wasn't fair that this fourteen year old kid knew himself more clearly than Ryder did at seventeen. And when he looked to Ginny, who was Freddie's girlfriend, she didn't look at all surprised. Hell, she looked proud of him. Which...could only mean she knew. And was okay with that.

  What the–

  “What!” Karsyn shouted, at his side.

  Everyone turned to look at him, as Freddie raised his head and turned to his big brother. “What's wrong?” he asked, so full of innocence.

  “You tell HIM that you're bi, but not me?” he asked, gesturing to Ryder for a moment. “Why didn't you tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?” he questioned, until Romany appeared at his side and whispered in his ear.

  “I didn't need to tell you,” Freddie replied quietly, cocking his head at his brother with a closed down, carefully guarded glare. “If I was to break up with Ginny and date a boy, then you'd know. Why do I need to spell it out to you?” he asked, quickly growing defensive.

  And the whole room went silent.

  Ginny appeared at Freddie's side, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she stood tall. “I'm proud of Freddie for being honest and knowing who he is. He told me the truth, before he even asked me out, because he believes in being one hundred percent honest with his partners,” she explained, joining in the 'let's
glare at Karsyn' party.

  Ryder took a step to the side and smiled as Sterling hugged him, with a whispered congratulations. At the side of the room, Karsyn was apologising profusely to his baby brother, insisting that the shock of it all took him by surprise, that no one ever had to 'come out' if they didn't want to make a big announcement about their preference, but that it would have been nice to know.

  And he couldn't help but wonder if that was true. It had been Karsyn's idea, after all, for him to 'come out' to the entire group. Maybe it was the way Donald was so at ease with the world and the way his parents treated life like it was full of understanding and natural dangers that one had to face to reach happiness, but Ryder was beginning to feel a shift in his thoughts.

  He didn't want to 'come out'. He didn't want to make an announcement like he'd just made and have his parents, his whole school or his brother judge him on his choice. He wanted to be more like Donald and Freddie; so comfortable with who he was that he didn't need to ask permission to be open about it.

  But he could understand Karsyn's complaint. And see the point in his little confession, right now. The Bright Side Brigade were trying to protect themselves and others from those that would hurt them, so stating that he was one of them was smart. And Karsyn wasn't being any more obtuse than any other big brother discovering that his little brother had a life of his own.

  Ryder hoped he didn't have to live out that same realisation with Nico.

  Chapter 9

  “So, they adopted me,” Donald explained, during another one of their heart-to-heart talks, during his visit that afternoon.

  Ryder munched on another pancake and swore it would be his last of the day. Still, he was pleased to see Donald sitting at the table in the cafeteria with him, for a change of scenery, slowly peeling his banana.