Bleeding Hearts - 3. Chapter 3

I am gay.

The realization was almost overwhelming.

I am gay.

I kept repeating it over and over to myself. It didn’t seem real—couldn’t be real. I couldn’t be gay. And yet, once I’d faced it, once I’d said it to myself, I knew I was. It felt...right, somehow. Like a truth I’d always known but refused to accept.

I am gay.

I didn’t want to be gay. My parents would hate me. My friends would hate me. I’d seen how everyone treated Seth.

Oh my God!

What would Zack, Jesse, and Asher say? Or more importantly, what would they do?

I am gay.

Would the church kick me out? Just my mom and I attended. Dad said church was only for people who needed a crutch, which didn’t stop him from spouting Bible verses when it suited him for political purposes. Mom ignored him and went nearly every Sunday. That was half the reason I continued to go week after week—it was one of the few things Mom did without Dad’s approval. I wasn’t particularly religious, but I liked the idea that Mom and I kept this one part of our lives separate from him. I wasn’t sure I even believed in God or anything the pastor taught, but I tried to be a good person. Did God hate me? I knew some churches believed that God hates gay people, but I was a little fuzzy on where our church stood on the subject. Apparently, I hadn’t paid enough attention.

I am—

The phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, Killian.” It was Asher. “I called you earlier, and you didn’t answer? Where were you?”

“I was...at Seth’s house.” My voice was somewhat shaky. I hadn’t even felt my phone vibrate.

“You were where? Are you okay? You sound funny.”

“I was at Seth’s house and I’m...” My voice trailed off. I was going to say I was fine, but suddenly it seemed pointless to lie.

“You’re what, dude?” I didn’t respond. “You want me to come over?”

“I don’t think so, Ash.” I wasn’t sure I could face him right then. I looked like a mess and didn’t know if I would be able to bluff my way through it. Why was Asher showing such an interest in me anyway, especially at that moment? He’d never really paid much attention to me before the last few days. I was there if he was bored and that was about it.

“No, man, you’re upset, I can tell. I’ll be right over.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the line was dead. He was on his way.

Great, just what I needed. Since when did Asher become a nurturer? I rubbed my cheeks, trying to get some color back. There wasn’t much I could do about the red eyes. I flipped off the overhead lights and opened my laptop. Maybe if the light were dim he wouldn’t notice. Plus, the computer would give me something to do so I wouldn’t have to look him in the face.

Asher lived right next door, so he was at my place in no time. My mom let him in, and he was at my bedroom door far too quickly. He knocked and, for a moment, I thought about not answering it. Knowing Asher, however, I figured he’d barge in anyway.

“Come in.”

The door flung open, and Asher charged in, his energy immediately filling the room. “Hey. Why’s it so dark in here?” He flipped on the light.

So much for my dim-lighting plan.

I sighed. “Hey, Ash.” I was glad I had control of my voice again at least. “You didn’t have to come over. As you can see, I’m fine.” I was hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

Not Asher. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. You’re my bud. And you didn’t sound fine on the phone.” He came closer and peered intently into my face.

I looked away but not quickly enough.

“You’ve been crying,” he accused me.

“No, I haven’t,” I lied. “I think I have allergies.”

“I’ve known you forever, Kill. You don’t have any allergies.”

I hated lying, mainly because I was so bad at it. I was definitely out of practice. My dad had always seemed to be able to see through my lame attempts when I was younger, so eventually I just gave up trying. Having a prosecutor for a father is not all it’s cracked up to be.

“Look, Asher, I’m fine.”

“What did he do to you?” Asher’s voice now held a hard edge.

“Who?” I stalled. He was making me even more anxious than I already was.

“Kermit the Frog. Who do you think? What did Seth do to you?” His voice kept climbing louder.

“Seth didn’t do anything to me.” My eyes shifted away. “And could you please keep your voice down?”

Did I mention I’m bad at lying?

“Did he hurt you?” Asher growled, taking a step closer to me. His voice was as hard as steel and dangerously quiet. I could feel the tension radiating from his body like heat. Surprised by his reaction, I looked into his eyes and saw an intensity I hadn’t known my laid-back friend had in him. “If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”

In that moment, I believed him.

I couldn’t stand any more confusion. I felt my chest constrict, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. I was having a panic attack. I took a deep breath, then another, slowly calming myself until I was ready to speak. I made my voice go steely to match his. “First of all, Seth did not hurt me. Second, why would it matter to you if he did? You’ve never paid any attention to me before. Why start now?”

Asher blinked in surprise, and the intensity drained away, leaving him looking like a hurt little boy. “Never paid attention to you? What are you talking about? You’re my best friend, Killian. You’ve always been there for me. Whenever I’ve needed to talk, I always knew I could come to you. I could never talk to Zack and Jesse like I do with you. I mean...maybe I haven’t been the best friend in the world. I guess I kinda took you for granted and I’m always busy with the team. But you were just always there. And now, all of a sudden, Seth comes along, and you’re hanging out with him. And he’s gay. I don’t get it. I... I guess I’m kinda jealous.”

Now it was my turn to stare at him in shock. “Jealous? Of what?”

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Especially not to a—”

“Don’t say it,” I cut him off, an unspoken warning clear in my voice.

“I was going to say a new guy.”

We stood there staring at each other for a minute. My cell phone suddenly buzzed.

I glanced down. It was a text from Seth.

“I’m so sorry...please talk to me.”

I quickly positioned my phone so Asher couldn’t see it. “Look, you’re not losing me as a friend. Why can’t I just be friends with both of you? Why does it have to be one or the other?” Then before he could answer I rushed on. “Ash, I really need some time alone right now. I’m not feeling good and that’s the truth. I’ll call you later, okay?”

Asher frowned but nodded jerkily and left without saying anything else.

I quickly texted Seth back, “Hey.”

“Look, I’m really sorry...I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

I hesitated a second, then decided to go out on a limb. “You weren't stupid. You were right."

“WHAT?”

“I think maybe I am gay.”

There was no response for several seconds, so I typed some more. “I’m still trying to figure everything out...I’m very confused.”

“Can we get together to talk later this week? It’ll give you some time to think first...how about Friday?”

“I dunno”

“Look, you need to talk to somebody...if not me then find someone else.”

“OK, I’ll think about it.”

“Good night Killer”

I dropped my phone on the bed and caught my reflection in the mirror.

I am gay. I am a homosexual.

I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t like that word.

I like guys.

That sounded better.

I’m gay.

The more I said it, the more right it sounded. There was still something strange about applying that word to myself, but I knew it was true. I was gay.

I couldn’t tell anyone, though. I would just go on the same as ever. No one else had to know. True, Seth knew, but I was pretty sure my secret was safe with him. He understood what it was like to be out, and I was confident he wouldn’t do that to me. Besides, who would he tell? I was his only friend. Even if he did say something, no one would take his word over mine. He was new to town, while I’d lived there all my life. He was an outcast, I was a local, one of them...for better or worse. My secret was safe. I was starting to feel a little calmer about the whole thing.

I heard Dad come in downstairs, and all the fear from earlier came flooding back. What if he took one look at me and knew? Seth had known. Could other people tell? Did only gay people have that...what did he call it? Gaydar? Was that even real?

I scrambled for my book bag and dumped the contents all over the bed. I grabbed a book at random (I think it was my history book) and opened it, pretending to read. I’d barely settled back on the pillow when there was a knock at my door. It swung open before I could even answer. It was Dad. The knock was simply a formality, and we both knew it.

“Doing your homework?”

“Yup,” I answered, looking up from my book.

“Good. Get it finished before you go to sleep.” He left, shutting the door behind him.

He hadn’t noticed anything. He hadn’t screamed at me and ordered me out of the house. I let out a shaky breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. What was I going to do? I’d narrowly escaped this time, but what about next time? How long could I hide it from him? And what about my friends? What was I going to do about Seth? A feeling of despair and confusion suddenly overwhelmed me. I realized how emotionally drained I was. Pushing everything off the bed and onto the floor, I crawled under the covers without even taking my clothes off. I was asleep in minutes.

 

 

 

Surprisingly enough, I slept heavily. If I had any dreams, I didn’t remember them the next morning. The rest of my day was equally blurry. I couldn’t tell you one thing that happened in school, except that I spent most of the day dodging Seth and Asher in the halls. I didn’t have any classes with Asher, so he wasn’t too hard. I had drama with Seth, however, and we bumbled through the whole period trying our best not to look at each other. It was positively torturous.

I took off as soon as the last bell rang and drove straight to our church. I needed to talk to somebody, and didn’t pastors have a rule about confidentiality? Or was that priests? Or maybe it was lawyers. At any rate, I figured it was worth a shot. I didn’t know who else to turn to, and I felt distant enough from the church that I didn’t really care if they knew. If they didn’t like it, I’d just stop going. My mom would probably be disappointed, but Dad would actually be pleased.

There was one car in the parking lot. I pulled in next to it and climbed out, hoping it belonged to the person I wanted to see. I knocked on the office door and, much to my relief, Pastor Mike opened it. Mike, as he liked to be called, was the church’s associate pastor, but more importantly, he was also the youth pastor. I’d been hoping he’d be the one there since he was pretty young—only in his late-20s—and I felt more comfortable talking to him. I didn’t really know him that well since I wasn’t active in the youth group at church, but I’d seen him around and he seemed approachable. He was short—shorter than me even—had curly brown hair, dark eyes, and always seemed to be smiling. He reminded me of an overgrown kid.

He was smiling now as he looked at me for a second as if trying to remember my name. “Killian, right?” I nodded, and he continued, “What can I do for you?”

“Uh...hi. May I talk to you?” I asked him somewhat timidly. I don’t think I had ever spoken to him before. I was surprised he even knew my name.

“Sure,” he replied warmly. “Come on in.”

I followed him into his office, and he pointed me to a couch. He took the chair next to it.

“So, what’s up?” he asked me once we were seated.

“I need to talk to you about some stuff.” He nodded as if to say, ‘go on.’ “But if I do, will you promise not to tell anybody? I mean, can I trust you?”

“Well, look, Killian, it’s like this. If you trust me enough to tell me, then you have to trust me enough to do what’s best with that information. What I mean is, if you tell me you are really depressed and you’re going to kill yourself, then I’ll have to tell someone to protect you. But if you just need some advice or clarification on something, then I think we should be able to keep it confidential.”

I looked at him for a minute, weighing my options. I didn’t know if I could trust him or not. If I told him, he might go to my mom. I really needed to talk to someone, though. He sat across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, waiting to see what I would decide.

Finally, I made up my mind. “Well, maybe you can answer some questions first.”

“I don’t pretend to know all the answers, but I’ll do the best I can.” He smiled again. He seemed very sincere. I wanted to trust him.

I nodded. “Does God hate gay people?”

Mike sat back in his chair and let out a little breath—not a gasp, more like a sigh. “Yowzers. You sure like to start with the hard questions, don’t you?”

I tried to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off. He noticed and quickly moved on.

“Actually, some people like to make that a hard question, but the answer is quite easy. No. God loves gay people just as much as he loves the pastor or anybody else. But I have a feeling that’s not really what you’re here to ask.”

“What if...what if someone in the church were gay? Would they be kicked out?”

“No, I don’t know of anyone ever getting kicked out of our church. You come fairly often, Killian. Think about what you see when you’re here on Sunday mornings. We have a very open church. Everyone is welcome. We believe that God’s love is for everyone, not just a select few. And you don’t have to be ‘good enough’ to meet his standards. He meets you where you are. Am I making any sense here?”

“I think so,” I replied. “So does that mean it’s okay to be gay? Doesn’t the Bible say it’s wrong?”

“Killian, that’s a question I don’t think I can answer for you. I’ve not studied it enough. Some people would say yes, the Bible lists it as a sin. Jesus himself never actually mentioned it, though Paul does a couple times. Then again, Paul also said women shouldn’t speak in church and should never cut their hair and never wear jewelry.” He shrugged. “We seem to have decided that those don’t count. Who gets to decide? Why do we pick and choose what matters? I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t have all the answers. I do know some people believe that the passages from the Bible often used to condemn gay people have been misinterpreted. I’m not speaking for the church officially at this point, but personally, I don’t think it really matters.”

I sat for a minute thinking about all he’d said.

“Killian?” Mike interrupted my thoughts. “Do you think you might be gay?”

For a minute, I froze, panic rising in the back of my throat. Then I found my voice, although it came out a little tighter than I would have liked. “Uh, no. One of my, um, friends told me he’s gay recently.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “I’m not prying, but you seemed pretty concerned about how our church would react to a gay person. Does that mean this friend goes to our church?”

I looked away. “No,” I answered softly. He sat in silence for a few minutes until I risked a glance in his direction. He was watching me, a small smile still on his lips. I didn’t see any condemnation or judgment in his eyes, though. I sighed. “Maybe...maybe I’m gay. I don’t know.” My eyes never left his face. I didn’t want to miss his reaction.

His expression never changed, never wavered as he looked back at me. He nodded once, then reached out and patted my knee. “If you ever need to talk to someone, you can come to me. And don’t worry. I promise I’ll keep this confidential until you’re ready to tell people yourself.”

I felt my whole body relax. He didn’t hate me. He wasn’t going to tell my mom. He wasn’t going to announce it to the whole church and have me kicked out. I fought the urge to sigh with relief.

Mike stood up and ruffled my hair. “Do you have any other questions for me? I don’t know, something easy maybe, like why do bad things happen to good people?” He grinned to let me know he was kidding.

I grinned back and shook my head. “I guess I have enough to think about for now, but if something else comes up, is it okay if I come back?”

“Of course it’s okay. In fact, I really hope you do. You’re a good kid, Killian. I’m glad you felt you could talk to me.”

We stood up, walked to the door, and shook hands.

I wasn’t sure what that conversation had actually accomplished. I didn’t really care what the church thought about me. It didn’t solve the problem of my family or my friends. I still didn’t know what to do. Yet, for some reason, as I sat in my car, I felt a little calmer. I’d told someone and they didn’t freak out. He’d answered my most minor questions. Now I only had a million more to figure out. I knew who I needed to talk to next.

 

 

 

I texted Seth that night, taking him up on his offer to meet with me in private on Friday. He was the only person I knew who was gay, and I was sure he’d be able to answer a lot of my questions. Mike had been a good first step, but he wouldn’t be able to shed much light on what it was actually like to be a gay teenager.

Seth texted back immediately. “Hey. I didn’t expect to hear from you again. Figured you were blowing me off.”

“No. I just needed time to think.”

“That’s cool. Friday still works for me. Where do you want to meet?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can come to you, if that helps.”

“Not my house. There’s a park near my house though. We could meet there, by the pond. Around 7?”

“Sure. That works. See you there.”

With that settled, I only had to make it till Friday. Which turned out to be easier said than done. The week seemed to drag by. I was constantly distracted, lost in my own thoughts. I knew my grades were probably suffering, but I wasn’t too concerned. It was still only the second week. I would catch up.

Friday finally arrived, but by the time the day was over, I wished it had never started. It got off to a bad beginning when my alarm clock failed to wake me, and I had to rush to avoid being late.

Then all the teachers seemed to be in a bad mood, and I got yelled at several times for not paying attention. Were they just noticing? I hadn’t been paying attention all week. Why was Friday so important? On top of that, I felt sick all day from nerves, so I couldn’t eat lunch, which made me even crankier. I was hungry and felt like puking all at the same time.

When the final bell rang, I thought I’d escaped, but the day was far from over. Gilly Sheridan was waiting for me at my locker. I almost just turned and left when I saw her standing there but I needed the books in my locker for the weekend. I sighed as I approached. She’d briefly dated Asher last year. They only lasted about a month before Gilly ended it, but Asher would never talk about why they broke up. She’d been after me ever since. Needless to say, I wasn’t interested, even if it wasn’t for the whole bro code thing. I definitely wasn’t in the mood to deal with her today. Still, she wasn’t a bad person, just a little too persistent.

I forced myself to be polite. “Hi, Gilly.”

“Hey, Killian. I was looking for you all day.” She gave me a huge smile. Gilly was really pretty—blonde hair, blue eyes, the works. I’m sure that smile usually got her whatever she wanted. It wasn’t working on me.

“Oh yeah?” I squeezed by her and spun my combination lock.

“Yeah. I wanted to see what you’re doing this weekend.”

I opened my locker and grabbed the books I needed, shoving them into my backpack. “Hanging out.”

“Cool. Want to hang out with me? Maybe we can see a movie.”

“Uh, no thanks.”

Gilly frowned. Usually, I was able to dodge her or turn her down politely. Of course, that wasn’t going to work on that day from hell.

“Why not?”

“Uh...I’m...busy?”

“You’re always busy. Why don’t you want to go out with me? Is it me? Why do you hate me?”

Because I’m gay! I wanted to say it but bit my tongue.

“I don’t hate you, Gilly. Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know. But why won’t you go out with me?” She grabbed my arm. “Come on. It’ll be fun. It’s just a movie. It’s not like we’re dating.” She grinned again and batted her eyelashes. “But we could be.”

I felt my eyes grow wide, and she laughed. “I’m kidding, Killian. Jeez. Lighten up. So...the movie? It’s a date?”

I opened my mouth to...something. I wasn’t sure what. Reply? Laugh? Scream for help? She still had a death grip on my arm, and I had no idea what to tell her.

Just then, I heard one of the girls in her clique calling her name. Gilly dropped my arm and turned toward her friend. I saw my chance to escape and slammed my locker closed while spinning on my heel and dashing for the door.

That had been a narrow escape. I’d avoided her for now, but I might not be able to give her the slip so easily next time. I needed a plan. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one.

Then, as if my day weren’t already crappy enough, I found Zack, Jesse and Asher waiting for me by my car when I came out. It seemed like my day to get ambushed.

I eyed them suspiciously as I approached. I was beginning to dread getting my car from the lot. Maybe I’d start riding the bus. “What’s with the welcome wagon?” I growled when I got close enough. “Did you guys get elected to be the parking-lot hospitality committee?”

“Funny, Killian,” Zack snapped. “We need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About Seth.” Zack again. It seemed he’d been chosen as the spokesperson for this intervention. My eyes immediately went to Asher, but he looked away, obviously uncomfortable.

“What about Seth?”

“We think you are spending too much time with him.”

“Too much time? I haven’t spent any time with him.”

“Asher told us about the other day,” Jesse threw in smugly, as if that proved my guilt of some gross crime.

“Did he?” I once again looked at Asher. He still wasn’t looking at me. He seemed to have suddenly found his shoes quite fascinating.

“Yeah, he did,” Zack confirmed. “And we’re worried that Seth is messing with your mind, turning you against us. You’ve not done anything with the group since school started, ever since you met this fag.”

“Seth is turning me against you?” I could feel my blood pressure rising. “I don’t need Seth to turn me against you. You guys are doing a damn good job for yourselves!”

Asher’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since I’d approached. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that I’m always the tag-along. Nobody ever calls me unless everybody else is busy. It means that I’m not really part of your little group, and I’m constantly being reminded of the fact. It means that nobody ever cared what I was doing or how I was doing until it started looking as if I might have a mind of my own. It means that if I don’t do exactly as you say and perform exactly as you expect me to perform, I get check-ups and lectures. I’m not your friend. I’m your mascot. At least Seth treats me like a person.”

Everyone looked shocked for a few seconds. I’d never blown up like that before. Then Zack sneered. “Oh. I get it.”

“Get what, Zack? Was I not clear enough for you? I can use smaller words if that helps.”

“Nah, you were plenty clear. You’re a fag, too, aren’t you?”

I saw red. Before I could think, I shoved Zack out of my way. “Go to hell! All of you.” I yanked open my car door and threw my backpack in, then whirled around to face the guys again. “And get away from my car while you’re at it, or I’ll run over you!”

“You’re gonna be sorry, Killian,” Zack warned as he, Jesse and Asher started backing away. “You and your faggy boyfriend.”

I stood there seething as they turned and walked away. Asher cast a baleful glance back at me over his shoulder, but I turned deliberately and climbed into my car. What right did he have to look like a kicked puppy? He was the one who’d betrayed me by telling Zack and Jesse I’d been hanging out with Seth. And he was the one who’d said they couldn’t find out. Some best friend he’d turned out to be. Screw all of them. I didn’t need them.

 

 

As my adrenaline rush drained away, Zack’s ominous threat echoed through my head. “You’re gonna be sorry.” What did it mean? How much did they suspect...or know? I sure hoped Seth would be a good friend, because I had a feeling I’d just burned my bridges with the only other friends I had. Not that they were exactly a big loss.

Except for Asher, a voice whispered inside my head. I tried desperately to ignore it.

I drove home and did all my homework for the weekend, and it was still only 4:30 in the afternoon. I had over two hours to wait before I went to meet Seth at the park. Calling Asher was out of the question. I never called Zack or Jesse anyway. I didn’t have any other friends.

I looked around my room and spotted my shelf of old books that had belonged to my mother when she was my age. They were mostly Nancy Drew mysteries with a few others thrown in for good measure. I was a little embarrassed to have them sitting in plain view, but no one ever really hung out in my room except Asher, so I kept the books around for sentimental reasons. I smiled as I remembered how much I’d loved them when I was younger. I used to imagine that I was in the stories with Nancy and the gang, helping them solve crimes by following the clues. In my fantasies, I was Killian Kendall, boy detective.

I thought about reading one then to distract myself. I’d read them all at least twice, though, and I wasn’t really in the mood to read anyway. So I did what I always did when I had nothing better to do. I got online.

I watched some videos but quickly grew bored. It didn’t take long until the subject that seemed to be perpetually on my mind lately resurfaced. I decided to look up some videos about being gay. I googled “gay video” and quickly realized that the vast majority of hits were porno sites. Maybe I’d need to be more specific. But while I was there...I had to admit I was very curious. It wouldn’t hurt to click just one of the thumbnails, right? I just had to remember to delete my browser history. I was pretty sure Dad checked fairly regularly.

I clicked on a link at random and almost fell off my chair. A video started playing on screen, two hard-bodied, naked men making out. Of course I’d seen naked guys before, in gym class, where I was too preoccupied trying not to stare to really notice anything, and the few other times I’d screwed up enough courage to look at porn. But I’d only looked at straight porn before and it hadn’t really done anything for me. I hadn’t allowed myself to look too closely at the men and the women, well, they didn’t really catch my attention. Certainly, none of the guys at school were hard like the men on my screen, and they certainly weren’t doing the things going on in the video. Their hands were all over each other, grabbing, kneading, stroking. My eyes were almost popping out of my head. One of the guys suddenly bent over and swallowed the other’s dick in his mouth. My face felt like it was on fire.

I fumbled to click off the screen but somehow hit my volume button instead. The sounds of male moaning suddenly filled my room. I scrambled in a panic, slamming my laptop closed. I waited, red-faced and panting, for Mom to burst through my door asking what those sounds were, but nothing happened.

After I caught my breath, opened my laptop and quickly turned the sound off, then closed the window. I sat in front of my computer, trying to decide if I should visit another site. I finally opted against it. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that...and it made me feel a little dirty.

I closed my laptop again and stood up—and was immediately aware of the tent in my pants. I guess this settled the whole gay thing once and for all. That video was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I could still see them in my head, kissing, touching, naked bodies pressed together.

Just then, Mom called me to dinner, breaking me out of my reverie. I realized I’d slipped my hand down my pants. I yanked it out and pushed all thoughts of being gay from my mind before leaving my room. I didn’t want to give anything away with my expression or behavior. I hadn’t forgotten the images I’d seen, however. I suspected I’d be seeing them again in my fantasies later that night.

When I got downstairs, I was surprised to find a vase of fresh flowers in the center of the table and an Etta James album playing on the old record player, one of Mom’s most prized possessions. I’d grown up on a steady diet of the classics sung by vocal legends like James, Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn and, of course, Billie Holiday. They were Mom’s favorites, and I’d grown to love them too. The music itself wasn’t unusual, but what was unexpected was that we never listened to music while we ate. Dad had a strange thing about it and didn’t even like it when restaurants played background music.

“What’s the special occasion?” I asked, sliding into my place at the table.

She shrugged. “There is no special occasion. Why?”

I gestured toward the flowers and sang a line along with Etta, “I’m on a lonely road that leads to nowhere, I need a Sunday kind of love.”

Mom laughed. “I just felt like doing something nice for a change. You got a problem with that?”

“No, it’s just unexpected. Where’s Dad?”

“He called and said he had a meeting, so it’s just us.” She tucked a strand hair behind her ear and smiled.

I looked at her closely as if seeing her for the first time. My mom was very pretty in a muted kind of way. She’d had me when she was only 18, so that made her 34 now. She wore her ash blonde hair shoulder length, but rarely did anything with it. Her soft blue eyes were seldom enhanced by makeup, but they were pretty without any. In fact, she hardly ever wore makeup at all.

Suddenly, I wondered why. Dad was always asking her to. Given the way she did everything else he wanted, the fact that she didn’t do this small thing suddenly seemed out of character. Then I thought about the whole church business. That was another place where she stood up to my father. Maybe I had been underestimating her all this time.

“Why don’t you wear makeup?” I asked her.

She looked at me in surprise. “What an odd question!”

“Not really. Dad is always asking you to.”

She smiled a funny little smile. “Then maybe that’s why.”

“Huh?” Could the chief priestess at the shrine of my father really not be as devoted as she seemed?

Her smile broadened. “You have your little ways of standing up to him, and I do too. You’ve never expressed much interest in my personal appearance before. What brought this on?”

I shook my head silently, and she laughed. She blessed the food, and we made small talk while we ate, but my mind was busy trying to find other instances of my mother’s rebellion. They were there. I’d just never thought about them before. In fact, I realized I actually hadn’t paid much attention to her at all. As I thought about the various things she did to annoy my father—I think they call it passive-aggressive behavior—I suddenly had a new respect for my mother.

“You don’t like him very much, do you,” I interrupted her in mid-sentence. I hadn’t been paying attention, but I think she was talking about church.

“Pastor Mason?” she asked in a shocked voice.

“No, Dad.”

“Oh.” She sat there for a few seconds, fork still suspended halfway between her plate and her mouth. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft I almost had to strain to hear her. “Your father is a very difficult man, Killian. So was his father. I’ve never told you this, but I think you are old enough to handle it. We weren’t married when I found out I was pregnant with you. I wouldn’t even consider an abortion, so his father, your grandfather, practically forced us to get married. Your Grandfather Kendall was a very religious man, very strict. Your father hated him back then. It’s funny, except for the religious part, he’s turned out exactly like his father.”

She let the fork slowly drop to her plate. “You’re right, though. I don’t like him very much. My mother told me I’d grow to love him...but it hasn’t happened yet.”

She looked up at me, and I could see pain in her eyes. How had I never seen it before?

“Please understand what I’m saying here, Killian. I don’t regret having you. You’re the only bright spot in all of this, the best thing in my life. I see the way he treats you, and it makes my heart ache. I’ve always tried to make sure you’ve had everything you needed, that you had some measure of freedom, some way to escape: the car, your phone, the laptop...” She shook her head as if to say it wasn’t enough.

“Those weren’t Dad’s ideas?”

She gave a short bark of humorless laughter. “No, but he certainly took credit for them, huh? The laptop was an easy sell; you needed it for school. And I managed to convince him the car was his idea, but I had to fight tooth and nail for the phone. I wanted you to have that independence.”

“I had no idea...”

“That was the point, sweetie. I’ve learned how to work your father over the years. Maybe it’s a little manipulative but it’s all for you. It was better for both of us to not seem like it was us against him. Then he’d be even more stubborn.”

“What else have you done that I didn’t know about?”

She smiled sadly. “That’s not really important. Just know I’m on your side.”

I thought for a minute. “Asher?”

“What about him?”

“I remember Dad saying I couldn’t play with him when I was little, and then all of a sudden you said I could.”

She shrugged. “I may have had something to do with that.”

“Why didn’t Dad want me to play with him? Was it because he’s black?”

She shrugged again, and picked up her fork as if to say the conversation was over. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Why don’t you just leave him?” I asked quietly.

She sighed and set her fork down again. “It doesn’t work that way, baby. Your father’s a very powerful man in this area. He’d take you away, and I’d never be able to get a decent job. It’s a good-old-boys’ club around here. Everybody knows everybody, and most of them owe your father favors. I never finished college because I was pregnant, and your father never let me go back, so I have no marketable skills. I’m stuck. And I’m afraid that means you are, too, at least for a few more years. Maybe once you’re in college, I’ll make a break for it. I just don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. It will be ugly, trust me.”

“I do,” I told her sincerely. I knew how much Dad hated to be crossed. He was in a foul mood for days every time he lost a case. I shuddered to think how he’d react if Mom tried to leave him.

She nodded, and we went back to eating. The rest of the meal was somewhat solemn. I had a new image of my mother now, and my respect for her had risen considerably. All those years she’d stayed in an unhappy marriage because she didn’t want to lose me. The full impact of her sacrifice hit me like a ton of bricks. When she stood to clear the table, I jumped up, gave her a hug, and insisted that she let me do it.

Once I’d finished the dishes, it was almost time to meet Seth at the park. I figured that if I walked there, it would be just about right. I could have driven, but I didn’t want to get there too early and sit around waiting. It was nearly dusk, and it was a little creepy by the pond at night.

I told Mom I was going for a walk and left. I had plenty of time on the fifteen-minute stroll to think about things—and I had a lot to think about. So much had happened in the last two weeks. I’d realized I was gay and admitted it to myself. I’d come out to an authority figure and to a new friend...who was also gay. Then I’d alienated all my old friends, maybe for good. I’d been kissed for the first time...and it was by a guy. I wondered briefly if it counted if you hit them afterward but decided it did. Then to top it all off, I’d found out that my mother was a real person after all—and I liked her. Who would have thought?

I wondered what Seth would add to my list that night. Would he kiss me again? Did I want him to? I wasn’t sure. Part of me did, but part of me was scared, too. I finally decided that if he did, I wouldn’t stop him this time.

I was so lost in thought that I almost walked past the trail to the manmade fishpond sitting back in a dense patch of forest. The copse was small but thick, with lots of underbrush and high weeds on either side of the narrow trail circling the tiny body of water. The pond itself was a murky brownish-green, fed by drainage ditches and rainfall. We’d had plenty of the latter, so the water level was quite high. Although the town had built cutesy little arched bridges over the ditches, everything still looked rather seedy, even in the middle of the day. At night, it was downright creepy.

It was just at the edge of dusk, the time of day when it’s hardest to see because the whole world looks like an old black-and-white movie with bad contrast. I didn’t notice anybody near the pond, but I couldn’t be sure, so I started to walk around it. Maybe I’d arrived before Seth.

As I began to cross the first bridge, I thought I saw something move on the far side of the pond. I paused and strained my eyes, but I couldn’t tell if I’d really seen anything or if it was just a trick of the shadows. I picked up my pace as I got closer to the area where I thought I’d seen movement. When I neared the spot, I called out in a hushed voice, “Seth?”

If it is Seth, I thought, he’ll never recognize my voice. I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t louder, but a sudden feeling of terror had crept over me. Goose bumps covered my arms, and the hair was standing up on the back of my neck. I almost turned and ran. Then I told myself I was being stupid and kept walking.

“Seth?” I called again in my new raspy voice.

Still no one answered me, so I thought maybe I’d imagined the whole thing. Then I saw a shape lying on the ground. I froze in my tracks. It looked disturbingly like a person. Did someone have a heart attack? I wanted to get out of there, but that seemed wrong if somebody needed help, so I reluctantly kept walking forward. I pulled my phone out of my pocket in case I needed to call 9-1-1.

I still wasn’t close enough to see what was going on when a sudden crashing sound came from the undergrowth. I spun around in time to see a figure explode out of the trees and toward me with a feral snarl. The figure slammed into me, cutting off my scream before it left my mouth. The impact sent the two of us rolling across the ground, my phone flying from my hand.

Fear gave me strength I didn’t know I possessed as I tried desperately to get away, but my attacker seemed to have an equal source of inspiration.

At first, I thought maybe it was Seth playing a sick joke. The ferocity of the grip quickly made that seem unlikely. I couldn’t turn around to see, since my attacker now had me from behind in a tight hold.

One hand abruptly let go, and the weight on top of me shifted. Before I could take advantage of that, the person raised an arm and quickly brought it down. I saw a metallic flash in the moonlight.

It was a knife!

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The impact of the knife as it slammed into my side knocked the air out of me with an audible “oof.” Almost instantly, a searing, paralyzing pain spread through my entire body. The knife was yanked out, and I felt blood gush from the wound.

He stabbed me.

My brain registered what had happened in a kind of detached manner. It was difficult to accept. I wondered idly if this was what they called shock.

The fight had gone out of me, and my attacker knew it. He let go of me, and I collapsed to the ground as he sat up over me, roughly flipping me onto my back. Though I tried to get a look at my assailant, the pain must have blinded me. I couldn’t make out any facial features. The arm rose again, then stopped. I lay there staring helplessly up at the faceless monster above me, waiting for the knife to fall once more and finish me off. I could do nothing but whimper.

“Please no,” I whispered. Breathing was suddenly painfully difficult.

“Shit!” the person hissed. He lurched up and took off running.

What just happened? Was somebody coming? Is that why he ran off?

I didn’t move for a few seconds.

I’m still alive.

The thought was abstract. The pain was all I was really aware of. I was having difficulty breathing. With each breath, the knife pierced me again. When I struggled to sit up, agony flashed through my body, and I felt myself blacking out.

I didn’t want to die.

Darkness surrounded me, but I fought back. Somehow, I managed to roll onto my side. With a little more effort, I got to my hands and knees. I pressed one hand tightly against the wound and tried to stand up, but almost collapsed again. My head was spinning too much. I could feel the blood pulsing between my fingers with every heartbeat.

I wanted to scream, yet I couldn’t get enough air to cry, let alone call for help. I was also afraid my attacker would come back. Maybe he’d left me there to die, and he’d come back to check. I had no idea where my phone went in the attack. For all I knew, it was in the pond. I looked around but couldn’t see it. Although I could glimpse the lights of nearby houses shining faintly among the trees, I knew my chances of getting through the underbrush in my condition were next to none.

The figure lying on the ground once again caught my attention. I could see that it was definitely a person. It looked like a man—at least he had short hair. He hadn’t moved since I’d first noticed him. Maybe I’d interrupted a mugging, and the victim was just unconscious. Maybe I could wake the person up to get help. If nothing else, maybe they had a phone I could use to call for help.

I began to crawl toward the still figure. My progress was excruciatingly slow. Every movement brought a wave of intense agony. Nausea rolled over me in palpable waves and sweat ran down my face. My vision swam in and out. It was all I could do to stay conscious.

Some detached part of my mind noted that my shirt was soaked with my own blood. I knew I was losing a lot, which probably explained why I was so lightheaded. I was leaving a glossy trail in the dirt.

After what felt like an eternity, I reached the figure. He was lying on his side facing away from me. I grabbed his shoulder and rolled him toward me.

As soon as the body fell flat on its back, I knew I wouldn’t be waking him up. His throat had been slashed open, the gash angry and raw.

It’s amazing the little things you notice in a moment like that. I saw leaves and small pebbles stuck in the congealed blood around the wound, and I wanted to brush them off. They looked unspeakably obscene, as if the gaping wound weren’t obscene enough.

I felt the blackness swirling around me again and decided not to fight it this time. In the last second before I allowed it to overwhelm me, I looked up at the face.

My last thought before succumbing to the void was, Oh God, not Seth...