Chapter 29 #2
Jay flicks his eyes over to Aaron, and they give each other a barely there nod that has me sucking in a grateful breath and almost tearing up.
“We’re going in there with you, and we’re not going to ransack the room or anything,” Jay says sternly.
“You really have a high opinion of me, don’t you?”
“Let’s just say that no one is more surprised than us that Brody managed to find himself tangled up with you, of all people.”
“What does that even mean?” I gripe, following Jay to Brody’s door.
“Brody is basically a golden retriever in human form,” Aaron says. “And you’re…”
“Arrogant,” Jay finishes for him.
“Uptight,” Aaron adds.
Jay nods like Aaron made a really good point, and then adds, “And kind of pretentious.”
“Are we done pointing out my better qualities?”
“I mean, I could keep going,” Jay says, but he’s smiling at least.
In a low, quiet voice, Aaron tells me, “I had my own experiences with bullies, and I don’t like what I’ve had to watch Brody go through.”
I bend my head, ashamed of what I allowed and encouraged, simply because I was insecure. It was dumb luck that Brody always saw right through me.
“It helps knowing that it’s mostly some kind of kinky role play though,” Jay says.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, and start looking through Brody’s room, carefully rifling through his things. Aaron starts with his backpack. I open his top desk drawer. Jay walks over to the bedside table.
“Not in there!” Aaron says quickly. “Nobody puts paperwork in that drawer,” he says, back to whisper-shouting. “It’s for, you know…”
“Oh, he keeps that under the bed,” I reply without thinking. It takes a long beat of silence to realize what I just said. Aaron snickers. My cheeks flush as I focus on the second desk drawer, which seems to be meticulously categorized into sections for each of his classes.
“I didn’t realize he was this organized,” I mutter to myself. Despite going against everything I assumed about Brody, it kind of makes him hotter.
“Probably didn’t get a good look around the last time you were in here, eh?” Jay asks, and Aaron snorts.
“Alright. Very funny. Both of you can shut it,” I say, forcing myself to keep my head up even though I know my face has to be several shades of red right now. I feel like I’m on fire.
“You know we’re just messing with you, right?”
“Yes, well, I’m glad that my arrogant, uptight, pretentious, and very closeted self can bring you joy.”
“Beck,” Aaron says, making me look over at him. “You realize that Jay and I are together, right?”
“You’re what?”
“Together. As in together.” Jay spreads his hands like he couldn’t be more obvious.
I blink a few times. Huh. I don’t know why, but a smile spreads across my face. Maybe it’s because I’m learning something new. Maybe it’s because I know I’m not alone. Maybe because now that they’ve pointed it out, it makes a lot of sense.
“That’s…Wow. Thank you for telling me.”
Aaron smiles and pulls a familiar envelope from Brody’s backpack. He hands it to me without question.
“And thank you for this. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make things right, and I’ll let you know when I see him.”
Jay and Aaron walk behind me to see me out, wishing me a happy holiday and assuring me they’re going to do everything they can to help Brody.
Just as I’m about to step through the door, a thought occurs to me. I stop and look over my shoulder at the two guys who so obviously fit together so perfectly, Aaron’s arm wrapped around Jay’s back, with his head on Jay’s chest and Jay’s arm pulling him close. They’re kinda cute.
I look at my watch. “You still have a few minutes before you need to leave, right?”
Jay looks ready to smack me. Aaron looks concerned. “Yeah, why?”
“Well, I just realized why you were so sweaty when you answered the door. So, I hope you have enough time to, er, finish what I interrupted.”
Aaron rolls his face almost directly into Jay’s armpit to cover his blush. Jay gives me a very pointed look and slams the door, but I can hear them laughing as I walk away.
I wonder if Ms. Delia’s “gaydar” would have picked up on all the obvious affection that I missed before.
I don’t waste time packing a bag and head straight out to my car. I exit the stairwell that I may have taken on purpose for luck, and run into my father about to get on the elevator.
“Lincoln,” he calls, stopping the elevator doors from closing and preventing my best chance at pretending I didn’t hear or see him.
“Father,” I say, the stiff greeting all I’m capable of at the moment. “Can I help you? I’m actually on my way out.”
“Are you headed home, then?”
“Uh…” I flinch before I can stop myself. He hates it when I stumble over my speech. He always says it makes me sound weak and unintelligent. Not wanting to let him think that’s the case, I straighten my spine and answer more confidently. “No, actually.”
“Since when are you not coming home for Christmas? Your mother will be very disappointed.”
I’m pretty sure my mother doesn’t actually notice if I’m there or not. She gave birth to me, but I’m pretty sure she never wanted to be a parent. I don’t say as much, though. I don’t want him to think this is a negotiation.
“I have other plans. But thank you for the invitation,” I say, as if he asked me to do anything and didn’t just expect me to read his mind and fall in line.
I’m sure if I’d showed up yesterday, he would have been disappointed that I didn’t let him know I was coming.
Today he’s expecting that I would have already been there.
He made you feel inferior, so you’d never consider rising above him.
The more I replay Ms. Delia’s take on my father, the more I think she might be right.
“Where is it that you think you are going?”
“To visit a friend.”
“What friend?”
“Brody Miller, you remember him, right? He’s actually a really great guy. We’ve gotten quite close this semester.” I let my tone set the stage for whatever insinuations he’d like to make.
The expression on my father’s face used to make me feel two inches tall, but for the first time, I realize I’m actually two inches taller than him. A strength I play into, elongating my spine and taking a step closer, accentuating and exploiting whatever I have over him. Just like he taught me.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I’m extremely serious.”
I start walking, not at all surprised when my father stops me again.
“You won’t tarnish my good name by—”
“By what, father? Being gay?”
If glares could burn, I’d be ash, but I’m surprised to find that his expression can’t hurt me after all.
“I don’t need your acceptance. I don’t need your name. I don’t need your money.” I look at him dead on. “I don’t need you.”
I start walking again, this time not stopping when he calls out again.
“That boy is beneath you!”
Plastering my best Brody Miller smirk on my face, I turn and walk backwards so I can see his face and he can see mine. I don’t want him to mistake my words for anything other than exactly what they are. Acceptance of myself.
“Actually, I’m usually the one beneath him.”