And with thoughts of possibly seeing Dylan in just a few days, I pushed the lies to the back of my brain. I’d deal with them later, because, for the moment, I was happy too.
“You’re running around this place like a chicken with its head cut off.” John, my roommate, poked his head out from behind his textbook, calling out to me from across the room. “You’d think the President was coming here.”
His words made me stop in my tracks. Realizing that I was in fact going a bit overboard, I shrugged. “I just haven’t seen him in a while. Guess I’m nervous and excited, too.”
He jumped down from his bed and closed his book before tossing it on the mattress. “There’s a fine line betweenexcitedandobsessive. It’s a dorm room. He’s a guy. You haven’t seen him in two months. He’s not going to care what the room looks like. He just wants to see you.” John held my shoulders, shaking me on each reassurance.
“You’re right.” I sighed and John stepped away, grabbing his hoodie and bag from the hook in his closet. “And thanks for staying at Elise’s this weekend.”
“No problem. But we’re still on for later, right?” He slung his bag over his shoulder and stood in the doorway.
“Yeah, man. Thanks again. We’ll meet you at Elise’s around eight.”
If there was ever a contest for “Best Roommate Assignment of the Year”, I’d have won it with John. He stood at about six-foot-four and weighed about two-twenty-five, but there was nothing mean or rough about him. Despite his multiple championship titles in wrestling, and the promise of a huge college career ahead of him, John was anything but the stereotypical asshole jock.
He was a sophomore and, since plans for an off-campus apartment with a few of his wrestling buddies fell through at the last minute, he was stuck in the dorms. By the time he filled out all the residence paperwork, the only rooms that were left were in the freshman building.
After the awkwardness of initially meeting one another wore off, we found that we got along really well.
I hadn’t planned on telling him I was gay right away, but nothing that big ever goes as planned.
We were eating dinner in the student café when the topic of girlfriends had come up. He brought it up, not me. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, I thought I should have asked first. Maybe it would have made me look more normal.
“So what’s your situation?” I took a sip of my iced tea, staring over the rim of my glass.
Situation? What the hell did he mean?
Panic invaded my system, thinking that he had somehow figured me out. I put my glass down, took a huge bite of my sandwich, and tried my best to keep my cool. Around a mouthful of food, I mumbled, “There’s no deal.” I swallowed my food, and his hard stare held me frozen in place. Growing defensive, my eyes narrowed. “Am I supposed to have a deal?” My spine straightened and my tone hardened.
His face split wide with laughter. “Dude, you should see your face. Chill out! I was just asking if you had a girlfriend back home. That’s all.” John held his hands up in front of his chest, palms facing out in a mock-surrender.
I slumped in my chair, exhausted already from one short and non-threatening exchange with my roommate. I had to learn how to calm down and just be who I was, unapologetically. Otherwise, I’d have a freaking heart attack before the end of my freshman year. John got up to refill his drink and I gave myself the mental pep-talk I so obviously needed.
When he came back to the table, I bit the bullet and, just like I had told my parents right before I left, I blurted out my truth. “I’m gay.”
I waited for him to curse, or spit in my face. To stand up and call me a homo or a fag while everyone else stared on in glaring contempt. But he just shrugged his large shoulders and took a sip of his water. “And I’m straight.”
I stared at him in confusion. That was it? He wasn’t going to say anything? John laughed as he saw me trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He crossed his arms and leaned across the table, keeping his voice low enough so that only the two of us could hear. “My uncle is gay. He’s really close with my mom and my sisters, and I learned very early in life that you love who you love. Gay or straight it doesn’t matter. So I’m good with it. There’s no need to worry.”
I took a deep breath. “Thanks, man. I was worried. I mean it’s not an easy thing to say.”
John twisted his face, processing what I had just said. “Why not? It’s who you are. And if anyone has problem with it, they’ll have me to answer to.” He made a ridiculous pose, flexing his muscles like a body builder.
“You’re an ass.” I laughed at him, but silently thanked God that he really did seem fine with who I was.
Then why was I still afraid?
“Whatever. But listen, this is college. This is where you get to be who you want to be without having to worry about what the hell anyone else thinks. Just know that I’ve got your back. Besides, in the few days I’ve known you, you seem pretty cool. So who the hell cares if you’re gay? Let it be their problem. Not yours.”
After I came out to him, I resolved not to hide who I was to anyone. Like John said, let it be their problem, not mine. That night, he went on to tell me about his girlfriend Elise who lived in an off-campus apartment. They had dated in high school, and came here together. He had a wrestling scholarship, so for her it was an easy decision to go where he was. Her plans for off-campus living hadn’t fallen through, and didn’t that work out just perfectly for Shane and me.
I closed the door behind John and scanned the room. He was right. Shane wouldn’t care how the room looked, but I could barely contain my excitement. The idea of having a whole weekend to ourselves, without having to hide from anyone, made me happier than I had been in a long time.
Just as soon as I flopped down on my bed, sorting out the million thoughts racing around in my head, there was a light knock on the door. I jumped up so quickly, I nearly tripped over my own two feet as I raced to the door.
My heart hammered in my chest knowing that it was Shane on the other side. But when I opened the door and saw the man standing on the other side, it both was and wasn’t Shane. He’d lost weight; enough to make me have to do a double take to make sure it was really him. Even though he had a pair of sunglasses on, I could see the dark circles under his eyes.
“You look like shit, man,” I blurted out, unable to say anything but the first thing that came to mind. He stepped into the room, his shoulders slumped, his frame weak and frail. The duffle bag he was carrying dropped to the floor with a soft thud. After taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the collar of his grey polo, he looked at me and I saw something more disturbing than the weight loss or the bags under his eyes. Sadness unlike any I’d ever seen pervaded Shane’s usually bright hazel eyes. His gaze fell to the floor.
