Authors: Z. B. Heller
Ryan, 6:02 p.m.
I felt terrible after the fight I had with Brandon. I kicked myself because I should have been more supportive of him, but instead I made it all about my asshole self. He was right. I did have every gay boy’s dream. Coming out was a walk in the park compared to the horror stories I’ve heard. My parents never threatened to throw me out—except for that one time I tied my sister to the coffee table and conveniently forgot about her. Hey, I was ten. She deserved it. She undid the perfect bun I’d put in her Barbie’s hair after I’d spent a whole hour working on it. Ugh, I should have realized then I’d already earned my homo card.
Thinking about the look on Brandon’s face when I chewed him out for not proclaiming to be my boyfriend in front of the whole nation about killed me. Was I expecting an official decree stating he was a proud homosexual? No. All I wanted was to finally make him mine. After years of hoping and praying he would play for the same team, for my wish to come true…
Brad Pitt:
You know, Ryan, your behavior was deplorable.
Steve Buscemi:
Way to put your foot down. You’re nobody’s butt bitch.
Brad Pitt:
Excuse me? He just pushed the one person he loves away.
Steve Buscemi:
Love? Who said anything about love? He was a greedy punk who needed a good fucking.
Brad Pitt:
How is it that we even share the same mind? Where do I go to ask for a refund or an exchange for a different brain?
Love. I thought about that word for a moment and realized the people I associated with that word were my family… and Brandon. I’ve loved him for so long I became blind to the fact that I even was in love with him in the first place. I even confessed to him that I was in love with him when we fought in the car. Could there have been a worse time to confess my feelings? Holy shit, I completely fucked up! I grabbed my phone, ready to call him and apologize.
No, maybe I should text. Wait, maybe that’s too informal to express my undying love for him. Maybe he doesn’t even want to talk to me because I won the douchebag of the year award.
Brad Pitt:
More like the century.
I get it, Brad Pitt. Take a chill pill.
Instead of calling him, the next best thing to do was talk to him in person when he came to the club later. That was
if
he came to the club. Okay, a quick text. I got my phone and started punching in letters.
I think we have to talk.
No, wait. That sounded too grim.
I need to make sweet, sweet love to you and forget this ever happen.
Mmm, I think that’s probably avoiding the issue. The idea of kissing and making up was very appealing.
Fuck, that’s just making me horny.
Roses are red, violets are blue. Your ass is mine, and so are you.
That sounds possessive and stalkerish. It did have truth in it, though. I did want to make him mine, and I would peck out the eyes out of anyone who came near him. None of those things seemed like the right thing to say, so I just went with…
Hey.
Brandon 8:53 p.m.
I got out of the shower and toweled myself dry. My legs ached from the hour I pushed myself on the treadmill. I’d run until my legs shook in pain. I wanted to feel anything except for the confusion sprinting through my head. What Ryan had said to me in the car stung, but part of him was right. He didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret, but was I really to make that leap?
I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to imagine how much my life would change if I came out. I wasn’t naive to think everyone would accept who I was. Sadly, the world was still filled with hate. I asked myself: Could I handle the hate people might throw at me if Ryan was by my side to help me.
I had enough of being the frightened child hiding in the background. I’d taken the first step in making a new life when I left home and my parents. The years my father spent belittling me and abusing me were in the past. Or so I tried to tell myself. My past never went away no matter how far I ran from it. I thought about what my life would be like without Ryan. His ultimatum rocked me to the core. What would happen if I didn’t go? I couldn’t let him slip away; I loved him too much. It was time to make the journey to be true to myself and to Ryan. I finally deserved to be happy and that meant having Ryan in my arms every day.
Ryan 10:05 p.m.
“Sugar, why do you look like a pimp who just lost his best girl?” Jasmine donned her red leather cat suit, black thigh-high fuck-me boots and strapped a pair of black angel wings to her back. Her blond wig was pin straight with blunt bangs, and her makeup was done to perfection. If I hadn’t seen her duct tape her own balls to her ass, I would have sworn she was a woman.
“It’s been an exciting twenty-four hours,” I said, my eyes never wavering from the door. A glass of beer had eased my nerves, but I’d switched over to Jack and Coke an hour ago. That numb feeling you get after a nice buzz spread over my body. I needed this liquid courage if I was going to see Brandon. No, not
if
.
When
I saw him. He had to show up; I had so much to say to him.
“Mmm-hmm, and did those twenty-four hours include a brown-haired, brown-eyed God?” Jasmine continued. I looked down at my feet in an attempt to ignore her.
“I see. What did you do, you little piece of shit?”
I jerked up my head to look at her. “How do you figure it was something I did?”
“Because your name shouldn’t be Ryan.
Trouble
is more appropriate.”
My shoulders sagged, and I let out a long sigh. “Fine, you’re right, it’s Brandon. We kinda, you know…”
“You plowed his backyard? Rode the bronco? Diddled his dong?”
I looked at her and rolled my eyes.
“What? From this attitude you’re throwing around, I know you didn’t play Scrabble.”
“No.” I shook my head and took another sip of my drink before explaining things to Jasmine. “After coming back from the club, we were both on this sexual high. Before I knew it, we were kissing and all over each other. He told me that he had feelings for me all this time, but didn’t know if he should ever act on them. Then he had some sort of anxiety attack and passed out. When we woke up in the morning, he told me things about his past that he had never mentioned before. About how his parents were abusive and his dad used to beat him with a tree branch.”
“Oh sweet mother of God. That poor boy.” Jasmine brought her hand up to her chest and covered her heart.
“After our discussion, I blew him and we jacked off in the shower.”
“You did what?” She swatted me on the back of the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?” I rubbed the spot.
“He trusted you with delicate information, and then you attacked his junk. What is the matter with you? Did you mother not teach you any manners?”
“You definitely won’t like the next part, then.”
“Oh, heaven help me.” She looked to the sky and threw her hands up like she was praying to God.
“We got into my car so I could take him home to change, and I sort of told him that we were going to have a coming-out party for him because I wanted everyone to know we were together. He flipped out, saying he wasn’t ready for anyone to know and he wanted just to keep things quiet for the time being. I told him I wasn’t going to be anyone’s secret and he had to make a decision.”
“Which is?”
“If he was ready to come out and be with me, he had to meet me here tonight.”
Jasmine stood and looked straight at me with a menacing scowl on her face. I had a feeling I was about to get my ass handed to me.
“What?”
“Ryan Keller, I love you more than I love my favorite pair of Prada shoes. But there is something I should have said to you long ago, and now I’m kicking myself with these fuck-me boots for not doing it sooner. You are one selfish, egotistical motherfucker.”
My eyes bugged out of my head. “Excuse me?”
“You know what would have stuck out to me if you’d told
me
all that? It was all about you. ‘
I
did this,’ ‘
I
wanted this.’ It’s no wonder he flipped out. Honey, you were fed with a silver spoon dipped in a bowl of unrealistic expectations. Not everyone had the fairyland you did with parents who shot gay rainbows out their asses. Some of us really struggled with finding ourselves and dealing with real fears of being outcasted with nowhere to turn.” Tears filled her eyes, threatening to ruin her perfect eye makeup. She let out a small sob before continuing. “Did you know I had to move into my auntie’s house because my parents wouldn’t speak to me for months?”
I couldn’t find words to answer, so I just shook my head.
“No, of course you didn’t know that because you never asked about my experiences. I’ve heard all about your perfect life because you made sure you threw it in people’s faces. I’ve seen how Brandon looks at you, and he idolizes you. But sadly, you’re too wrapped up in your shit to see it.”
I didn’t have a witty come back for Jasmine because everything she said was true. God, I felt like the world’s biggest asshole. I should have put my feelings aside and protected Brandon more—protected what we had together. I let my selfishness get in the way. And now I might pay the ultimate price.
Brandon 10:15 p.m.
I put on my jacket to head out to the club, anxious to get to Ryan and tell him I chose him and we would go through this journey together. I took one last look in the mirror, checking my reflection and solidifying my final decision with a nod to myself. Yes, I was ready. I have never been surer of anything in my life.