Travis
Iopen the door to my apartment, excitement running through me in the hope that maybe it’s Oakley. It’s stupid. I know that. He all but confirmed he doesn’t feel the same way I may have started to feel about him last night, but I still want it to be him.
When the door is fully opened though, it’s not Oakley’s dumb face looking at me, begging me for a chance. No. It’s my best friend, and he looks as sad and disappointed as I feel. “Hey.”
“Hey. I brought you coffee.” He holds out a cup from my favorite place and a brown paper bag. I take both, letting him into my apartment.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He settles himself down on my couch, and I close the door and follow, sitting next to him.
“So, you texted Ryan back?”
I take a drink of my coffee, my gut twisting in a totally uncomfortable way. “Yeah. I’m meeting him tonight.”
“You going there or is he coming here?”
“Going there,” I say as if it’s the only answer. Ryan didn’t even ask to come here. Probably because how much I bitched about living here when we first started talking. All I could think about was getting out of here. About going to college.
Dating the guy I pictured in my head as the perfect one.
“And Oakley?” Of course, J is going there.
We don’t really hold back with each other.
Oakley. Fucking Oakley. How did this happen?
How is it that I’d have told Ryan last night I couldn’t meet him and he should move on in a heartbeat if Oakley would have only acted like he cared? I don’t know how I got there.
He’s not at all what I thought I wanted. He’s big and loud. He loves football and small towns. He probably hates to travel. But he’s so much more than that.
“What about Oakley?” I force myself to sound detached, like I don’t care. “We both knew, going in, it was just sex. And you heard him, he thinks I should go out with Ryan.”
“I don’t think he meant that.”
I snort dismissively. “He said it. He meant it. You know Oakley. He doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t hold back.”
My best friend looks concerned and a little sick as he shakes his head and stands firm. “I know he doesn’t lie, but I think he may think it’s what you wanted. He has a big heart, and he wants what’s best for you.”
I rub my chest absently, thinking about him. Trying to go over last night in my head for what’s probably the millionth time. He didn’t look as happy as he normally does, but maybe that’s because he thinks the sex thing is over. Now he has to find a new fuck buddy.
I don’t know.
All I know is I was silently pleading with him to say he didn’t want me to go, but he didn’t.
“I don’t think so.”
“I do. And I think you should go talk to him before your date.”
I look at J and can’t help but feel he’s right. I’m not even excited about tonight at all. I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to wear or texted with Ryan at all, other than setting up a time and place last night.
“Maybe I will.” I decide as I finish my coffee, and he looks pleased. He leaves a little while later, and I drive over to Oakley’s after that.
I knock on his door, but he doesn’t answer, so I walk around to the fence and see him sitting on his porch swing in the backyard. “Hey.”
He looks surprised to see me but climbs up from his spot and lets me in the gate. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” My heart is thundering so hard in my chest, I can hear it in my ears. But I know I need to be sure before I go on this date.
He leads me back to the swing, and we both sit down. But it’s awkward and tense. I hate it. I want him to put his arm around me and pull me to his side, but he doesn’t. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Are you really okay with me going on a date with Ryan tonight?” I decide to just get right down to it.
I expect him to say yes, that I’m being ridiculous and need to quit worrying about stuff. But he surprises me when he quietly answers, “No. I’m not okay with it.”
“What?” I look at him in shock, my palms sweating so much I have to wipe then on my jeans. “You don’t want me to?”
“Of course, I don’t want you to.” A smile takes over my face, and I’m about to tell him I don’t want to either when he opens his mouth and speaks again. “But you need to.”
My smile fades instantly. “What?”
“You know you need to do this, Travis. And I can’t hold you back. It’s not right. This is what you’ve wanted.”
I start to shake my head and open my mouth to argue with him, but he places a steadying hand on my knee and looks into my eyes.
“I never understood you in high school. Like ever. You looked happy out on the field when you were playing, and you had insane natural talent. But then when you weren’t playing, you just looked sad. I couldn’t figure it out.”
“Oakley,” I start, but he gives me a quick shake of his head and stops me.
“No. I didn’t get it. Back then, I thought you had the world and you should have been happy.
But now I do get it, Travis. You’re meant for so much more.
And this is what you wanted. You want college and traveling.
” I swallow thickly, the action almost painful because my throat is clogged with so much emotion.
“I’m not that guy. We both know I’m not. ”
“Maybe I don’t need that.”
He offers me a sad smile that slices through my heart. “Maybe you do. You can’t go your whole life wondering. I love it here. Hell, I loved it in Kensley. I like sitting in my backyard on my porch swing, thinking about my next project and work on Monday. It’s enough for me.”
I want to tell him it’s enough for me too. But I’m not so sure, and I know he’d argue with me.
He brushes his hand over my cheek and presses a soft kiss against my lips. “You need to go. You deserve all the things you were thinking about when you looked sad in high school. When you were dreaming about something bigger.”
It doesn’t surprise me that he knows that’s what I was doing.
It was. All the time. Every single day when I was doing my chores, listening in class, and suiting up for practice or games, I was thinking about what else was out there in that great big world.
What it would be like to be an out and proud gay man.
To have a boyfriend and maybe even a husband. To walk around with them without anyone blinking an eye in our direction.
Where I wouldn’t have to hide a piece of me. Where I didn’t have to clean out barns and milk cows. Or spend my weekends selling corn at farmers’ markets.
I wanted that.
So badly.
“Go,” he whispers against my lips, and I realize I haven’t moved a muscle.
I stand up slowly and look down at him, noticing he looks just as sad as I feel.
I can’t say anything else. My voice is gone. I can’t tell him I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. That I like sitting with him on this swing in his backyard.
I just force myself to walk away because he’s right. I need to go and see if that’s what I want.
I owe it to that sad kid in high school.
And I know I have to do this.