My ex’s name hits me like a punch in the gut.
“Who’s they?” I ask, knowing full well what her answer is going to be.
“Mom and Dad. His parents, too.”
It doesn’t surprise me at all that both sets of parents are pushing this messed-up marriage. Mine just want Hannah paired off with a nice Mormon boy so they don’t have another kid abandon the faith. And I’ve always thought Layton’s parents suspected he might be gay, especially after I came out. Getting him hitched—to a female—would be a huge relief for them.
“Mom and Dad didn’t even want me to do a mission,” she continues. Mormon boys are expected, if not required, to go on a mission before settling down and starting a family, but they’re optional for girls. “I had to beg them to let me go. But it was the only way I could think of to escape.”
Wanting to escape. Now that I understand.
I take a healthy chug of cider. This is definitely a conversation that requires alcohol. “Do they know you’re AWOL?”
She shakes her head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I told my district leader I was spending the holiday with an elder and his family in Federal Hill. No one at the mission will know I’m gone until I don’t show up to proselytize tomorrow.”
“And the first phone call they’ll make will be to our parents.”
“I realize that, Captain Obvious.” She downs her water in one gulp and plunks the empty cup down on my trunk table. “But I figured this was the last place they’d look for me. As far as they know, I haven’t spoken to you in almost three years.”
She has a point. Hell would have to freeze over before my parents would pick up the phone and call me, even if it meant they never found their daughter.
“You can stay with me for now, but it’s not a permanent solution. This is a college dorm. We’re not supposed to have extended guests. If I get caught, I could get kicked out.”
Not to mention lose my RA gig and my housing stipend, leaving me not only homeless but broke. I wonder if I could squeeze in another job. Or two. Maybe Adam would let me crash in his room at the hockey house.
That last thought makes my heart—and certain other body parts below my waist—happy.
“I’m sorry, Kolby Cakes.” Hannah’s voice wavers, and her eyes fill with tears. “I couldn’t marry Layton, for reasons that I obviously couldn’t explain to anyone back home. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Hey.” I switch my cider to my left hand so I can pull my sister into a one-armed hug. “It’s okay, Hannah Banana. I’m glad you’re here. We’ll come up with a plan. Together.”
I don’t have the faintest idea what that plan might be. But I have to find some way to help her. There’s no way I’m letting her go back to Baltimore. Or Utah. Not if it means she’s going to have to marry a guy who’s too afraid to admit he’d rather be with a dude. And who let this particular dude think otherwise.
“Thanks.” She rests her head on my shoulder and lets out a long, shuddering sigh. We stay that way for a few minutes, just holding onto each other, until she breaks the silence. “I hope I didn’t mess things up with your hockey hottie.”
I laugh, and she looks up at me with a puzzled frown.
“What’s so funny?”
“That’s what my friend Ian calls him, too.”
“He’s got good taste. So do you. Hockey hottie’s a big step above Layton. I always knew that guy was a weasel.”
“His name is Adam, and just about anyone would be a big step above Layton.”
“True that.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
“Is everything okay with you and Adam?”
“I think so.” I sip my cider. “He wasn’t happy I kept the whole exiled-by-the-Mormons-for-being-gay thing from him.”
She grimaces. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.”
“True that.” It’s not only her klutziness my sister is legendary for. As they say onRuPaul’s Drag Race, which Ian and I binge watch together—we’re up to season six—Hannah loves to spill the tea. Still, when it counts, I can always trust her to keep a secret. She knew about me and Layton for months and never told anyone.
I ruffle her hair so she knows I’m teasing. Mostly. “But Adam is right. I had plenty of chances to tell him. And he unloaded some pretty personal stuff on me.”
