Chapter 39
Dylon
L ars’s complexion looks a little green, and even though I’m so excited for this event, this is out of his comfort zone. But it’s the best way possible to say what we want.
“You ready?” I squeeze his hand giddily, holding it in a semipublic place.
He nods and focuses on the group entering the building.
“My man.” Caleb bro-hugs Alec like a long-lost friend, and they start talking a mile a minute.
Alec slaps Lars on the back. “I saw Von in Toronto, and he’ll be able to visit soon. I heard you had a rough time in Germany. Von got sick. Apparently what happens in Germany doesn’t stay in Germany, eh?” Alec jokes but Lars isn’t ready to get in on the fun. He’s too nervous.
“Thanks for coming.” I shake hands with Jayce, who gives me an eye roll and pulls me in for a hug. “Teammates and friends for life. Don’t give me this formal shit.” He slings his arm around his beautiful boyfriend, Emmet.
“Dude, you got assaulted last game. The refs should be brought up on charges for allowing it.” Emmet fist-bumps me. “But your goal threw it all in their faces.”
“Thanks.” We talk hockey for a few minutes, then Patrik and Trevor join us.
“My favorite designer.” Alec greets Trevor. “Hey, if you ever need models again, my services are available, and this guy,” he grabs Emmet’s face, “look at this face. It’s made for people to admire. ”
“Hands off,” Jayce barks with no heat.
“Don’t worry, J-Bear,” Alec uses Emmet’s nickname for him. “My heart belongs to my Viking.” He winks at Lars.
Jayce has his arms wrapped possessively around Emmet, shaking his head but smiling.
That’s what I want. I want Lars to touch me in a way that makes it clear to the rest of the world that I’m his. His alone.
We hear the clacking of heels before Joanne, the director of The Q Solutions, appears with a camera crew. “Great. You’re all here. We are staging this to look like a typical night here, but we’ve obtained video and photo waivers from all the minors’ parents in order for them to participate. Sadly, many couldn’t come because we were not able to get permission. The kids range in age from fourteen to nineteen.” She walks backward, leading us to the classrooms.
“I’ve divided the kids up so each class has enough kids to make it look realistic, and the same kids will not be in each class. That would be suspicious. Tonight, Cole has a painting class, Alec has an art class, and Shane is teaching finance. We will film one at a time, but we don’t want it to be at the start of each class. You’re welcome to watch each other or continue with the class.”
I’m curious about Cole’s teaching style. Cole’s so standoffish with everyone but his husband, Shane. Cole’s students already have easels set up with canvases on them. He circles the room, asking questions and commenting on proportions, coloring, and other art things I know nothing about. The kids obviously respect him and hang on his every word.
The cameraman films Cole offering the kids advice, praise, and encouragement.
“How long have you been teaching here?” the reporter asks.
“I’ve only been teaching a year, but I volunteered before that. It’s been a rewarding experience. These kids are inspiring and teach me about bravery and tenacity.”
When the camera light goes off, Cole asks if they want to keep painting or watch Alec’s drawing class. They all decide to watch Alec except one girl, and I stay behind with her .
“Not into drawing?” I ask.
“No, yeah. It’s well… Don’t tell him I said this, but Alec is a lot. I mean, he’s loud and cheerful all the damn time. It’s…” She waves her hands and I get it.
“Too much,” I finish for her, and she agrees with a chin tilt. “I’ll leave you to paint in peace.” I’ve been told I’m loud and talk nonstop. Not everyone is into that.
“You can stay as long as you don’t try to recruit me to play hockey.” She shivers. “Being cold is not my thing.”
I mime zipping my lips and she laughs. Our conversation is easy as she tells me about her painting. It’s a collage of her favorite things growing up, a bear, a memory box, and a few other things but no people. It’s sad and makes me think about what my favorite childhood things would be besides a hockey stick.
By the time we’re done talking, we join the others in Shane’s finance class.
He has five questions written on an old-school chalkboard. Can you accurately check your bank balance with a debit card? What is your monthly budget? What are your monthly expenses? How much do you have left over to spend? How much of that should you save?
My girl leans over and asks me why she can’t check her balance with her ATM card.
“I don’t know. Maybe I need this class.” I snicker and the surrounding people glare. She laughs into her elbow, and I feel like I made a new friend.
Next we set up to film dinner, where I’m serving along with Trevor and Jayce. Emmet left to support Madyson, their partner, at her gallery for her art show.
We have an easy job. Put food on the kids’ plates and talk to them. Well, easy for me. I notice that none of the introverts are serving. Jayce isn’t the most outgoing guy, but he knows all the kids by name, and they have a great rapport.
“So what’s this about?” a skinny sixteen-year-old from Shane’s class asks, pushing his glasses on his face.
“It’s part of the Enforcers’ commitment to supporting LBGTQ rights and programs. This place relies on grants and donations. If we can bring attention to it, hopefully you’ll get more funding.” I give the PR answer. He side-eyes me but doesn’t respond .
“I call bullshit,” his friend with light-brown hair and shrewd amber eyes says. “What are you really doing?”
My mouth falls open. Luckily, the cameraman has gone into the back, where Lars and that crew are packing bags to distribute to the homeless. Statistically, queer people and the mentally ill are the largest segment of the homeless population.
“I saw the schedule on Joanne’s desk. You and Lars have an interview with the reporter by yourselves,” he says accusingly. “And there’s a list of a few of us for individual interviews too.”
I scrub a hand over my face.
“Are you using us for good publicity?” the girl from Cole’s class asks in a soft voice from the next table.
“No! Absolutely not. Well, maybe. Sort of.” I didn’t think of it that way. “It’s not our intention. We want to do right by you.”
“Give it to us straight. No bullshit.” Glasses guy folds his arms over his chest.
“I’m in love with Lars Drakenberg, but I’m not doing a press conference to announce it to the world like it’s this thing that has to be handled like a stick of dynamite that could explode any second. We just want to talk about our beliefs and support of this program and let everyone draw their own conclusions.” I word-vomit all over them.
My girl claps her hands, and the guys have huge grins.
“Another one bites the dust. Welcome to the dark side.” A kid smacks me on the back.
“We’re going to have three out NHL players here. This is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my life.”
These kids leave me speechless, which is hard to do. But this is why speaking our truth is imperative. So that kids all across the country aren’t afraid to speak theirs. Not everyone is in a safe environment to be themselves, but we can give them hope.
The reporter motions me and Lars to her side. “We can use a conference room or an office for the interview. ”
“What if we do it right here?” I turn to Lars. “These kids can smell a lie a mile away, and we need to be genuine. I know it’s not what we talked about, but…” I hope he doesn’t hate the idea.
“It’s a good plan. Can you make it work?” he asks the reporter.
She snaps into action, situating us in front of one of Cole’s paintings as a backdrop so we’ll be facing the kids.