Not giving him the time to answer, I crush Brandon’s mouth under mine. He lets me take the lead and I snatch it, dipping my tongue into his mouth to taste him. Holding on to his hips, I move against him. Kiss him deeper because this is all really fucking happening. I’ve been happy but the whole time, I’ve been waiting for something to screw up. Something to go wrong but maybe, maybe it won’t.
Brandon matches me, every move against his body is one on mine. Every time my tongue retreats, he’s invades my mouth. He goes straight to my head. We’re going to be able to do this every day if we want and I can’t wait.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I jerk away from Brandon at the sound of Dad’s voice. I stumble over my feet and Brandon reaches out for me as I hit the wall.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dad says again, louder this time. His face is red and even from twenty feet away I see the vein pulsing in his forehead. See his hands in fists. I know I need to say something. Each time I open my mouth, nothing comes out. My heart is lodged in my throat. My stomach drops out and all I can think is I was so fucking wrong. He’s going to hate me.
Brandon finds his tongue first. “I know it’s a shock. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We were scared but . . . I love him.”
Even at Brandon’s words I can’t take my eyes off my dad. Can’t make myself move.
“What did you do to him? Don’t you fucking talk to me or my son. You made him a fucking queer! What the hell did you do to my son?”
That snaps me out of whatever trance I was in. “It’s not his fault. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.”
He turns on me, eyes narrow with hate. “You’ve always been a faggot? I didn’t raise a faggot!”
“Hey. Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to him.” Brandon steps forward but I grab his arm.
Dad voice is tight when he says, “Get your hands off him, Alec.”
“Fuck you,” Brandon spits out at him. “Come on, baby. Let’s go. We’ll get the hell out of here. You don’t need him. He’s not worth it.”
“Don’t you ever call my son that again! Don’t let him touch you, Alec.”
I’m frozen, my mind going a million miles an hour—telling me to make Dad understand. To walk away with Brand, and keep on going like we planned.
“Come on, Al. Let’s go. We’ll leave for Ohio early. Let’s get out of here.” Brandon’s grip on me tightens.
That’s when I see it—see everything fall into place in my dad’s mind. He knows why we live together and why we’re moving together. Why I wouldn’t go out with those girls.
“You’re disgusting. You think everyone isn’t going to think that? It’s wrong. What will your mother say? You’re going to kill her. You think she wants a fag for a son any more than I do?” Seething, he eyes Brandon again. “You’re a fucking ballplayer. You think those guys are going to want to share a locker room with a fairy? What? You’re going to go play house and think everyone else isn’t going to be as disgusted with you as I am?”
Everything else is a blur. One sentence repeats over and over in my mind and it’s the only thing willing to come out. I step forward, out of Brandon’s reach. “It’s not wrong. How can loving someone be wrong?”
I don’t even see Dad’s fist come at me until pain shoots through the side of my face and I fall to the ground. Brandon runs past me, tackling my dad into the sawhorse. They crash through the wood right before Brandon’s fist connects with my dad’s face.
Dad grabs him around the throat, squeezing with one hand and punches Brandon with the other. Somehow Brandon gets another swing out, again hitting his face and making my dad let go.
Finally I find my balls and jerk to my feet. “Stop!”
“Don’t you ever fucking touch him again!” Brandon pushes off my dad who sits up, wiping blood from his mouth.
“Get the hell out of here. Both of you. I don’t want a queer for a son.”
I knew it. I expected it. That doesn’t stop it from feeling like he just beat the hell out of me. Out of my heart. Brandon’s parents still love him . . . Don’t I deserve love from mine too? And what about Mom? Will I even get a chance to talk to her? “Dad.”
“Get out of here!” he yells.
Brandon grabs my wrist. With a soft voice, he says, “Come on, Al. Let’s go. We don’t need him. We’re good.”
I’m not sure why but I pull my hand away from him and go outside. I climb into the passenger seat of my truck, Brand jumping behind the wheel. Rocks fly, kicking out from under the tires when he peels out of the driveway.
“He must have forgotten something . . . That must be why he came right back. Not that it matters.”
Without a reply to that, Brandon pulls to the side of the road, not far from the cabins. “Fuck him, Alec. We don’t need him. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, okay? He doesn’t know shit. You said it yourself. We paid our dues. We’re gonna go to Ohio and everything’s going to be just like we said.”
Ignoring his words, I reach out and rub my thumb over his swollen bottom lip. “He has a hell of a swing, doesn’t he?”
Brand jerks his head away. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you’re not upset.” Then he cups my face with his hands, pulls me forward and presses his lips to my eye. I don’t realize how much it throbs until he does it. “He doesn’t know shit, baby. Okay? He doesn’t. We’re okay. We’re gonna be okay.”
Brandon doesn’t sound as convinced as we both need him to be.
My brain keeps telling me it shouldn’t be affecting me this way. I know Dad. I’ve always known what he’s like. It’s what made me scared of who I am when I was little and the main reason I lied about it for so long. I always thought I would be okay pretending to be straight and I could push it aside for the sake of my family.
The older I got I knew that wasn’t true. I couldn’t keep lying about myself and I didn’t want to. It’s just love, right? No one should have to be scared of who they are or be hated for it. That’s what pushed me forward and what made the secrets get so fucking old.
There was never truly a doubt about how he would react. Not an honest one. Maybe wishful thinking and maybe that disguised itself well. I don’t know. The only thing I do get right now is there’s an ache inside me I didn’t expect. Pain I can’t see past and as much as I hate to admit it . . . a piece of myself buried so far down I can almost ignore it, who wants to pretend again so I don’t have to be the person people hate on principle. So I don’t have to hear again that whom I love is wrong.
Because regardless, he’s my dad. I looked up to him. As a kid I wanted to be like him. It cracks me apart knowing he hates me.
That I know this is just the beginning. Even though Brandon’s dad accepted us, he made sure I knew how hard it would be. I didn’t realize it though. I might have thought I did but now I realize I didn’t have a clue.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Brandon grabs a loop on my shorts, pulling me to the bathroom. He didn’t touch me when we were outside and although it’s always been like that—and I’ve never held him where people could see—it suddenly makes my jaw set.
When we get into the restroom, I lean against the counter, as Brandon wets a washcloth. When he goes to wipe my eye with it, I jerk my head back. “I can clean myself, you know.”
“Never said you couldn’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it for you.”
My eyes drift closed at his reply, guilt tying me up. This isn’t his fault. I won’t take it out on him.
“Does he wear a ring? You have a little cut. Not bad and the blood’s already dried up.” Brandon wipes at my eye. Pain pulses through my temple but I ignore it.
“It’s his wedding ring.”
Brandon drops the washcloth on the counter. “I wanted to fucking kill him. I can’t believe he hit you.” He pushes my hair back and presses his lips to the side of my head.
“I don’t need you to defend me.”
I swear I
feel the anger roll off Brandon before he pulls back. “You think I believe I need to protect you? I may want to take care of you but that’s because I love you. I’d do the same for anyone I care about just like you would. Like you’d do for me.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I grab Brandon before he tries to walk away. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what the hell I’m saying.” Still holding him with one hand, I turn to the sink. When I’m sure he’s not going to walk away I let go long enough to wet another washcloth before I clean his lip. Without moving, Brandon lets me and then reaches in the shower and turns it on. Neither of us speak as we get undressed and get in. We don’t touch either and it’s hardly five minutes later before we’re drying off.
It’s early evening but that doesn’t stop us from putting on shorts and T-shirts before hitting the lights and climbing into bed.
Lying on top of the blanket, I turn to my side. When Brandon’s arm wraps around me, pulling me close, I forget for a minute that anyone can think this is wrong. It’s comfort and love. It’s letting yourself feel free with the person who grounds you.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him again.
“Shh.” He scoots closer, squeezes me tighter, his arm wrapped around me. “This is all that matters, okay? Fuck the world. We don’t need anyone else. Just this right here. Just us.”
“Just us,” I repeat. Hoping like hell it’ll continue to be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brandon
When my eyes open, the room is pitch black. It has to be late even though it feels like the whole scene with Alec’s dad just happened. Hatred burns through me as I replay the things he said to Alec in my head. As I see his fist connect with the side of Alec’s head.
What I would give for another go at the bastard. Not for me. I couldn’t give a shit about what he says about me, but for Alec.
Rolling over, I reach for him only to find open space. Pushing out of the bed, my heart rate kicks up. I don’t know what I think could have happened to him but after today, who the hell knows. It’s not that I don’t think he can handle anything because he can. He’s probably the strongest person I know but he’s also the guy who wouldn’t stop at anything to take care of someone he loves. He’d do anything for them because his heart is so fucking big. As much as he said he knew his dad would hate him, it has to be eating him up inside. How can he comprehend someone he loves turning on him when Alec could never do something like that himself?
Even after the way I hurt him, the way I walked away from him, he came to me when I needed him. It’s the kind of guy he is.
“Al?” I open the door to the spare room, then the bathroom, before heading into the living room. That’s when I see him, sitting in the dark, on the balcony.
When I slide the door open, he pulls his hand away from his head. I didn’t even realize it was there but now his cell lights up. He’d been on it so long, the lights had dimmed.
“Hey . . . are you okay?” I ask, not trying to lower my voice. Charlie’s his best friend. I get that he would need to talk to her at a time like this.
“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear.”
I flip the switch for the light. “It’s okay. I woke up and wanted to check on you. You can talk to Charlie if you want. I’ll wait in here.”
“It’s not Charlie.” Then to whomever he’s on the phone with he says, “I’m gonna go. Thanks for listening.” Alec stands up, palming his phone. “That was Logan.”
My insides crystalize and I try really hard not to lose it. I know this isn’t the time but . . . why the hell did he have to call Logan? Why did he need Logan to listen when I’m right fucking here?
“Oh.” Is all I can manage to say before turning and heading back through the living room. Alec is right behind me.
“I just needed to talk, Brand. It’s not a big deal.”
When I get to our bed, I whip around to face him. “And you couldn’t talk to me? You had to talk to the guy you know wants you?”
“No.” I try to turn from him but Alec grabs my arm, holding me in place. “It’s not that I had to talk to him, I just had to talk to someone who understands.”
I take in a deep breath, really fighting to control what comes out of my mouth. “So he understands and I don’t?”
“In some ways, yeah. He came out at eighteen, Brand. He told his parents and they kicked him out. He didn’t have a job or anything and they just turned their backs on him. They didn’t talk for years. Things are better now but . . . he gets it. He knows what it’s like to be shut out from your own family. To be something that they despise more than . . . more than they love you.”
And I don’t because my parents accepted us. I both get it and am pissed about it at the same time. That doesn’t make it easier to take though. Alec and I have always had that. When we were teenagers and no one in the whole fucking world knew who we were but each other. We didn’t trust anyone with our secrets except each other. Now he leaves our bed to talk to Logan. Maybe it makes me a prick but that feels like he punched a hole through my chest.
“I should have told you but I didn’t want to wake you up. It’s nothing, okay? I love you.”
Tugging my hand, Alec comes closer to me. Inside I want to kick my own ass for making him feel bad at a time like this. “Ignore me. I’m being stupid. You went through hell. If I’m not the one you need to talk to . . .” I let my words drop off there. As much as I want to continue, it sucks too much to admit.
“That’s not what I meant. It’s not that I needed to talk to him more than you. My head’s just all screwed up.”
Something freezes inside me at that. “Did you change your mind? Are you not sure about us?”
“No.” Alec shakes his head before sliding his hand up my shirt and resting it on my stomach. Leaning forward, he drops his forehead to my shoulder. “You’re the only thing I’m sure about.”
The next day we stay home. A few times I ask Alec if he wants to go out and do something—anything, basketball, lunch but he says no. When he says I should go out and train, my answer is the same. “We’re in this together,” I say and he smiles, making me proud I’m the one who put it there.
We spent so much time apart before, separating at the end of every summer. If he had shit to deal with or I had shit to deal with it was the phone or nothing. And then I was an asshole and broke it off with him. There’s no way I’ll leave him again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask when we’re in bed later that night.
“There’s not much to say, Brand. I know I’m being a downer. It just sucks.”
I get it. The main reason I play football is because it’s something that makes people proud of me. Because it makes my parents look at me with respect, like I’m good at something. I would have lost my shit if they walked away from me because of Alec. “I’ll try to talk to him if you want me to. Or we can go together. Whatever you want to do . . .”
Alec rolls over and looks at me. “I don’t wanna talk about him right now.”
I hear it in his voice and my body already starts to react. “What do you want?”
“You . . .”
Pulling him closer, I let Alec have me.
“Come on. We’re training today,” Alec says when we wake up.
“Hell yeah.” It’s not even that I’m looking forward to working out as much as I am that Alec wants to go. It’s a little thing but still shoots hope through me. For two days I felt like I was letting him down—like I couldn’t be there for him. Him wanting to go out makes me feel like he’s pulling through. We’ll find a way to deal with this.
We get ready and head to the park. After warm-ups Alec says, “Let’s check your times.”
I’m stocky like I need to be, my muscles having come back quickly, but I need to be fast.
“Four point twelve!” Alec yells when I finish. “Hell yeah!”
“Are you shittin’ me?” I ask. It’s not 3.98 but it sure as hell isn’t 4.67 either.
&nbs
p; “No. You did it, man. You’re pretty much there.” Alec smiles and then moves forward as though he’s going to hug me before he stops. “Shit. Sorry.”
He’s looking at me the same but something’s different. Like I did something I don’t know about. “It’s cool.”
But we both know it’s not.
I run the forty two more times, my times all within tenths of a second from my 4.12. Afterward we go to the gym and lift for a while before heading home. We play a few video games. The later it gets, the more I think about the fact that we’re leaving tomorrow for Ohio. Neither of us has mentioned it since everything with his dad.
“I think you’ll like the apartment. There’s a gym close too. Lots of people from school go.”
“Yeah?” he replies before getting up and heading to the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”
“Just water.”
Alec comes back with a bottle of water for both of us before sitting down by me again.
I try again. “We have time to figure it out but we need to start thinking about your stuff. I don’t know if you want to ship it. I mean, we’ll need stuff for the spare room so it looks like you stay in there. Or we can use your stuff. I don’t care if we use yours or mine. Or we can get new stuff when we get out there.”
Alec picks at the label on his bottle. I’m obviously not making him feel better like I wanted to. It’s also obvious something’s up. My gut is heavy. Still, I try to ignore it and say, “What is it, Al? You’ve never held shit back before so don’t start now.”
Alec sets his water down. He’s never been the type to hold back. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be any different.
“I just . . .” He looks me in the eye. “I can’t go with you to Ohio right now, Brand.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alec
My mind is at war, with one side telling me to take the words back and the other who knows they’re for the best. It’s what I have to do.