“Micah,” he sighed my name and something in my chest cracked. “You have to talk to him,” he said as he clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure if you really talked to him he would understand.” The compassion in his voice nearly broke me. It had been so long since I’d heard it in anything anyone had ever said to me on the topic of my own life and I didn’t know how to react.
But I knew I had to bite back the emotion rising in my throat. I had to swallow the words that needed to come out, telling him that I didn’t want to leave him. I had to silence the screaming in my brain reminding me of just how scared I was to do what my father wanted me to do.
So pushing all of those things aside, I took a deep breath. No longer able to stand the feel of his hand on my shoulder, I stood from the bench. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” But despite the confidence I’d hoped to project, my voice was shaky, wobbling on each word.
Jude heard it, and his eyes warmed, echoing the compassion coloring his words. “Come on,” he said, standing from the bench. He grabbed his shirt and even though I knew I’d miss the sight of his naked chest, I reveled in the sight of his new muscles bunching and twitching as he pulled it over his head. I needed to stop looking at him like that. It was only a matter of time before someone caught me—or before he noticed. And if I lost him as a friend . . . well, then I’d have no one. Pushing that thought out of my mind and trying to erase the image of his shirtless body, I chugged down my water, my mouth suddenly dry. “Let’s get out for a run.” He smiled and punched me on the arm. “Unless you’re afraid I’ll kick your ass,” he taunted, continuing to punch me playfully.
“Oh, it’s on,” I answered, give him a solid punch on his arm.
As we ran, I thought back over the months I’d spent with Jude. Most of the time we were in the gym, surrounded by other kids taking advantage of the free workout at the school. But we spent just as much time out here, running the trails off in the middle of nowhere. In the time we’d been working out, Jude had changed tremendously. The weight melted off him, only motivating him to stay on track even more. What was once a monolithic-like body type, had now been chiseled and cut down to more flattering proportions.
And watching those muscles move in front of me did nothing to stop the thoughts I was having earlier in the gym. In fact, running behind him only made them worse, if that was even possible.
The confusion I’d had for years about my sexuality had faded away with each and every hour I spent with Jude. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him unbelievably attractive, but my attraction had far more to do with who he was than with how he looked.
It always had.
From the first story he shared with me of being bullied for years, to meeting his dad and hearing the pain in his voice when he spoke of his mom, Jude was . . . Words failed me. In short, he’d become everything, and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever get over him.
Just thinking about signing up for the army and saying goodbye to the only life I’d ever halfway enjoyed made my chest tighten in pain. Which made running that much more difficult. My pace slowed, and it was about half a mile before Jude realized I was far behind him.
I needed the space. I couldn’t think straight while he was that close, so when he turned around to check on me, I called out, “Go ahead. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
He laughed and called me a loser, but kept on running with what I was sure was a huge smile on his face. Obviously, I didn’t know who Jude was before I moved here, but based on his stories, and from the transformation I’d seen, he was pretty damn happy lately.
Dropping my ass to the wooden railing lining the path, I tried to figure out how the hell I could attempt to fix my life. And by fix my life I meant, tell my dad there was no fucking way I was joining the army. And then there was Jude.
Figuring out how to tell your best, and only, friend that you wanted nothing more than to do unnamable things to him—and have him do those same things back to you—I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to fix that problem.
And then go ahead and combine the two issues—telling my dad I was gay. That was something I was sure would secure my fate as a soldier. It would also secure my fate as the son my father never had. For years, it was easy for me to conceal it. Moving from state to state, never spending more than a year or two in any given location, made it easier never to have a girlfriend.
Hell, it was a lie I even told myself for a while.
But now I knew there was no point in lying. Because if I did, my life would be nothing more than hell. And speaking from the experience of the past six months, it was a hell I knew I couldn’t endure.
Energized and anxious, I thought how to go about it all. I could tell Jude and hope he wouldn’t push me out of his life, but why wouldn’t he? I had no reason to believe he was gay. Me envisioning us together didn’t mean he felt the same way.
“Stupid asshole,” I cursed to myself. Turning on my heels, I yelled out a booming “Fuck,” as if the wind had assaulted me. Staring out at the trees in the woods surrounding the trail, I thought about how freeing it would be to run away. If I simply disappeared, I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit. That thought made me laugh. “Right, because it would bethatsimple.”
“What would be that simple?” Jude asked, scaring the shit out of me.
Thinking quickly, I recovered my stray thoughts. “Kicking your ass,” I said, before sprinting away from him.
As I ran back to the gym, I resolved to make some changes in my life. Besides, I was nothing more than a hypocrite if I helped Jude change who he was while all I did was wallow in my own misery in secret.
Suddenly focused on taking a stand against my father, I outran Jude for the first time in weeks. By the time he reached the locker room, I was already packing my things up and heading out the door.
“Later,” I called out, rushing past him.
Just as I reached home, my mom was finishing up dinner, and my father was watching the evening news in the living room. It was a scene out ofLeave it toFuckingBeaver.I couldn’t have stopped my eyes from rolling into the back of my head if I’d tried.
When I was younger, home was the only place I wanted to be. It was my safe haven from whatever new town we’d just moved into. At home, I didn’t have to make friends. I wasn’t the new kid. I could hide in my room and do whatever I wanted.
That grew real old real fast. No son of my father’s was going to be a loner. He’d accept no less than the outgoing, gets straight As, All-American athlete. Playing video games and reading comic books was simply unacceptable.
Actually, I think he called it “weird and fucking pathetic,” but my memory of that fight could be a little fuzzy.
“Hey,” I called out to my mom after dropping my gym bag in the mudroom. “Quick shower and then I’ll be down.”
