Chapter 37
Poznań
Hayes
“What is that?” Brady points down the street to an opening where I see trees peeking out from between the buildings. At first I think he’s delaying, but then I see it too.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask.
“Let’s find out,” Brady says. Our pace quickens and as we get closer it becomes clearer.
A ivy-covered gate with a neon sign above it reads ‘Klub Stonewall’ in blue letters with a pink high heel in the corner. The small pride flag that caught our attention sticks out of the gate in such a way that you wouldn’t see it if you weren’t looking. But if you know, you know.
We walk through the gate; there’s a bar at the back and few tables under an archway with a canopy of green vine. A few tables have queer-presenting people about our age and I hear house music in the background.
“I swear if a young gay boy told me he was thinking about coming out, the first question I would ask him would be, ‘Do you like house music?’ Because it’s one thing to like boys, but you have to be able to put up with a lot of house music. It’s everywhere,” I say.
“I know, right?” Brady bops his head. “It’s the soundtrack of our lives.”
“Dzień dobry,” I say to the woman behind the bar with green and blond pigtails. I try out the words I’ve picked up by listening to people on the street.
“Hey, mates,” she says with a husky voice. “Americans or Brits?” she asks with a hint of an accent.
“Guess,” Brady says with a smile.
She moves her lips to one side and gives us both a once over. “I’m going to say you’re Americans?”
“Why?” I ask.
“They always smile the biggest when they walk in. I don’t know if they are happy to find our place or just happy, but they usually have big goofy smiles like the two of you.”
Have we both been smiling? I guess we have.
“What can I get you?” she asks.
“What’s that?” I point to a large jar on the counter behind her filled with dark red liquid and pieces of fruit floating on top.
“That’s called kompot. We boil fresh cherries with the sugar and the water. Delicious. Refreshing. And since you are American, I can even pour it over ice. But little.” She pinches her fingers together. “And with vodka if you want, of course.”
“Sounds delicious,” Brady says. “Yes to ice, but no to vodka.”
I order the same and we find a table far enough away from the speakers and other people that it feels secluded and intimate. I take a sip and let the cold, fruity liquid linger in my mouth before I swallow.
Brady looks at me, puts his drink down. “I know money is a hard topic for us. But I want to be up front about the money from For Us.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Are they not paying us? I don’t get it.”
“They’re paying us.” Brady nods. “Well, to be more exact. They’re paying you.
I gave you the entire fee. I told you we would split it, but that wasn’t true.
I didn’t need the money. My parents are paying for law school and stuff.
We’re earning every cent of this. It’s just that we aren’t splitting it fifty-fifty. I want to be honest about that.”
“You mean you aren’t getting paid anything at all?” My mind starts buzzing with ideas because I am thinking about the bonus and what he could do with it. But I have to figure out a few things before I get there. “Then why are you doing this at all?”
Brady takes a deep breath. He taps the side of his glass and then takes a sip.
I’m very aware of how the red juice is staining his lips and making them look even more kissable.
“I wanted to show my parents that I could actually do something with my life. I thought if I could do a good job with For Us that they would see I’m not a complete fuck-up. ”
“You are not a fuck-up.” I hate when he talks this way about himself.
Brady wags his finger at me. “You are supposed to be honest.”
“I am being honest.” I push my palm on the table for emphasis. “Stop kidding. You are not a fuck-up.”
“Well, that’s not what they think.”
He’s not wrong about that. I flash back to what I overheard in Barcelona, but how could I tell him something that would hurt him so much?
I want to protect him, not harm him. Maybe at this point that doesn’t matter.
I know I’m lying to myself. But I don’t want this connection with Brady to stop, and I want to put the pieces together with what I’m thinking in the back of my mind.
Our communication today has felt effortless and wonderful.
The last thing I want to do is make him feel shittier about himself and confirm his suspicions.
“And the second reason I agreed is that…” Brady nervously pushes back his curls and looks away before turning back to me.
He lets out a stream of breath before answering “I did it because I wanted to see you again and apologize for what happened in Chicago. Or at least I thought I’d be able to find the courage by the end of the summer.
” He looks away. Maybe he isn’t ready yet.
“I’m truly sorry about Chicago. I should have handled it differently. ”
It doesn’t take more than a second to respond to him honestly.
“First, I should say thank you for doing that. With the money. I’m glad you told me.
” Brady nods slowly, relieved by my reaction.
I look back over at the bar and glance at the vodka I passed up a few minutes ago, regretting my decision.
It would have made it easier to say what I need to say.
“And thank you for saying that about Chicago. I’ve thought about what happened there, too.
” My throat tightens. “That fight and how angry I was with you. How angry I was with the world back then.” The words come out slowly at first.
“I knew you were angry with me, but what does the world have to do with it?”
The music at the bar changes to something slow that I don’t recognize. Two women get up and dance in each other’s arms as sunlight trickles in between the leaves. I remind myself that it’s safe here. I am safe with Brady.
“Being at Clarkson was amazing. You know I loved it. We made so many friends, going to class, hanging out, meeting you. Coming out as bi. All of that was really great.”
“I felt the same way.” Brady’s voice is careful now.
“But for me there was also this feeling that everyone knew I was a ‘scholarship kid.’” I focus on the glass in front of me and watch a cherry float to the top. “I had never been around people like you.”
“People like me?” Brady strikes an exaggerated fashion model pose, raising his arms from the table. “You mean gorgeous, sexy people?”
Despite the heavy feeling in my heart, I laugh.
Why did I push him away so hard back then?
He’s making jokes to make me feel better.
Isn’t that the kind of guy you make a life with?
I want to reach across the table and kiss him but I need to get through this part and maybe let him know what else I’ve been thinking.
“I mean in Eagle Rock there aren’t any really wealthy people.
So, when I got to Clarkson, I immediately felt like there was something wrong with me.
” The words tumble out faster now. “First off, everybody assumed I was straight, then they assumed I could afford to go to Starbucks after class every day. It made it hard to open up about who I really am. I felt shut down. Until you came along.”
Brady is now very still.
“You always made me feel okay to be me,” I say.
“That’s really nice of you.” Brady tilts his head down and looks at me through his long lashes.
I turn to face him fully. “In Chicago, when I found out what your parents did, it made me question all of that. It made me feel like it wasn’t okay to be me again.
That I was the ‘scholarship kid’ even to you, and that felt awful, and I lashed out because I was ashamed. I felt ashamed of who I was.”
“I’m sorry. You know that’s not at all how I wanted to make you feel. I would never want you to feel that way too.” Brady’s warm eyes are full of a care and sincerity I can feel.
“I know that now,” I say to reassure him, but then realize what he said. “But what do you mean, ‘too?’”
“Do you have any ideas how many times I tried to approach you on campus to apologize. To talk.” Brady shakes his head. “At the dining hall. On the quad after your genetics colloquium. I even went to that secret study spot you thought I didn’t know about.”
“Wait,” I sit up in my chair. “The one behind the reference desk on the third floor of Lipton? You knew about that?”
Brady looks at me and tilts his head. “Where do you think all those random cans of Mountain Dew came from? The soda fairy?”
“I just thought the person before me…” Brady’s always been looking out for me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
“I’m the soda fairy.” He shakes his hands with the fingers spread out.
“Thank you,” I say. “But why didn’t you just talk to me?”
“Because I was ashamed too. To be clear, I didn’t know what my parents were up to.
Not completely. But the fact that I didn’t question it more made me realize that I never questioned any of the ways they had controlled my life.
I never questioned the fact that they paid for everything.
I was ashamed of that. So ashamed that I couldn’t even talk to you about it. ”
“I didn’t know that. I think of you as so strong and clear about who you are.
” I think of him standing in the doorway of his apartment in his underwear in broad daylight before our spring break trip.
But that’s just one aspect of Brady, and I know there’s more.
“I should have taken the time to understand you better. You can’t help being born into wealth any more than I can help being born broke.
I’m sorry you felt that ashamed. I know that feels terrible. ”
“Thanks, Hayes. I appreciate that.”
We sit in silence, just enjoying being together. My entire body feels the release of being on the other side of this conversation.
“Weird, huh?” Brady says.
“What?” I ask.
“We were both feeling the same thing, but for different reasons.” He kicks his head back and announces to the entire place: “Shame fucking sucks!” I’m not sure anyone can understand what he said but a few people look over and nod.
“There’s a reason we have a parade called Pride.
Even if you’re raised like me, where my sexuality wasn’t an issue, shame can creep in anyway.
I think being queer in this world makes us maybe more susceptible to it.
I don’t know. But I’m glad we can talk about it. ”
“Me too,” I say. “I don’t think either of us were ready to get to this level of conversation a year ago.”
“Maybe not,” Brady says, and he gets a faraway look in his eyes like he’s thinking about everything that’s gotten us to this place. Then he snaps back to the present. “Oh, wait. Did I make you feel that way just now? When I told you about the For Us money?” His face twists.
“No. I need that money to make my deposit. You gave it to me freely and without any strings, because you wanted to help me. And I earned it. We earned it.”
“That’s all true.”
“Last year I would have marched out in a storm of righteous indignation. But I’ve learned there’s a difference between feeling like you’re less than everyone else and accepting help when you need it.
” I think back to the medical museum in Berlin and sitting between the well-intentioned but erroneous classical anatomy drawings and the painstaking corrections that paved the way for new discoveries.
“I had this picture of myself as a charity case and I needed to revise it with new information. This trip is making me realize that the boxes I’ve used my whole life to make me feel safe, might not work anymore. ”
Brady breaks into a grin that transforms his whole face. “I’m impressed.”
“But there is one condition about the money.” I hold up my finger. “It’s a very important one, and I want you to give it serious consideration.”
Brady runs his hand through his blond curls, making them stick up at odd angles. He’s nervous about what I am going to ask, but he can’t be half as nervous as I am.