I’d never felt so powerless. Even though I was silently vowing to try to help him, I felt completely useless because I just didn’t know how.
We lingered in bed the rest of the day, alternating between talking and fooling around, stopping only for a meal or a quick shower.
After waking from a late afternoon nap, our bubble had to burst.
“We should get ready. My roommate wants to meet you. I said we’d join him and his girlfriend for dinner.” I felt Shane’s body stiffen in nervousness. “Relax, Shane. They’re good people and there’s no need to hide our relationship while you’re here. We’re safe; I promise.”
I hated that I even had to say those kinds of things to him, but I knew he needed the reassurance. “You’re right, Dyl. I’m sorry.” He gave me a quick peck and I felt him relax. “It’ll just take some getting used to; that’s all.” Smiling lamely, I stood from the bed.
He followed behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pressing his cheek against my shoulder. “It’ll be good for you to see that we’ve got nothing to hide.” Covering his hands with mine was a lame attempt at reassurance because as soon as the words were out there, I regretted them. I looked at his face in the mirror that hung above my dresser after I pulled a shirt out.
He rolled his eyes and pulled away from me. “Don’t start in on me about the coming out shit again.” His defensiveness was unmistakable. I was an asshole. Tonight was definitely not the night to push the issue, especially after what he’d revealed to me earlier.
I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. “Fine.” I changed tactics. Holding my hands up, palms out, in front of me, I surrendered. “I was wrong. I’m an asshole.” He chuckled and allowed me to step closer to him.
“You really can be sometimes.” He rolled his eyes again before hooking his thumbs into the front pockets of my jeans.
“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you later,” I whispered seductively against his neck as I nuzzled close to him.
He laughed once more. “That sounds like an excellent plan.”
Choking back the rising emotion that was in a race with the bile was pointless. It was Monday morning and since neither of us had a morning class, we still had another hour left before I had to leave to head back home.
Something changed in me this weekend. It was more than just what happened between Dylan and me. I felt like there was an ominous cloud hanging overhead, threatening to open up and rain down on me at any moment. Panic rose in my chest and I tried my best to bury it down, but there was no use. Drowning in my own depression, this weekend was a false reprieve at best. The thought of walking away from Dylan and not seeing him again for another month was pretty much unbearable, especially knowing what was waiting for me back at home.
Some days, I thought about how much easier it would be if I just didn’t have to deal with it all. Lying about being gay was difficult enough before this weekend. Now, it felt like it would be impossible to hide. And with Dad’s cold, hard malice weighing me down, breaking free from this sadness became an even dimmer hope.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Dylan tapped on the small café table at the campus coffee shop where we stopped to grab breakfast before I hit the road.
I shook away my bleak thoughts and took a sip of my coffee. “Sorry, just distracted I guess.” It was a lame cop-out, but so much easier than getting into all the shit swirling around in my head.
“The fall training season is over in two weeks, but with mid-terms and all that, I’m not sure if I can make it home before Thanksgiving. Any chance you can get back out here?” There was a child-like hope in his eyes as he waited for my answer. It was a hope I didn’t have the energy to mimic.
“Uh, yeah. I mean, I’ll try.” Dylan reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“You sure you’re okay?” I actually surprised myself by not pulling my hand away from him. It was crazy to think that even in three short days of being with him out in public, I had grown so much more comfortable with small displays of affection.
None of that mattered now, though. I was going home. Alone. I’d still have to hide who I was there, and I’d have no one to hold my hand through that.
Luckily, John walked up to us, breaking the stilted silence. “Hey, man.” He extended his hand to me. “Glad I didn’t miss you.”
I looked down at my watch as I stood from the table. “I was actually just about to head out.” Dylan stood too and I could see my sadness mirrored in his face.
“It was really great to meet you. Dylan had so many great things to say about you. I was beginning to think he’d made you up.”
Knowing that Dylan thought about me probably just as much as I thought about him while we were apart caused a smile to spread across my face. “Thanks again for everything. I’ll see you soon.” I shook John’s hand again; truly thankful he’d done everything in his power to make me feel welcome.
Dylan walked me to my car. He leaned against the front door as I tossed my bag in the back seat. “Text me when you get home. I just want to know you got there safe. Okay?”
I jammed my hands into my back pockets and rocked on my heels as I nodded at him. He pulled me into his arms and placed a soft, lingering kiss in the crook of my neck. Without moving his lips, he spoke against my skin. “It’ll get better, Shane. I promise.” He held me tighter, and I tried my best to pull some strength from him.
It was futile, because as I slid into my seat and drove away, watching him get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror, I knew that what I was driving toward was anything but better than what I was driving away from.
Rain started pouring down in sheets within minutes of starting to drive. The grey and gloomy weather outside was an appropriate match for how I was feeling on the inside. Sure, I told Dylan about part of the fight I had with my father, but I held back the most hurtful parts – the parts I knew would push him over the edge.
“I better not find out that you’re still friends with that fag,” my father sneered, poking his finger at my chest.
My jaw was clenched so tightly, I thought I might crack a tooth. “Yes, sir,” I gritted out, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.
