Chapter 13 #2
My legs nearly gave out. "They can't—he's an adult—"
"He's financially dependent on them. Completely. His tuition, his housing, his food—everything comes from them. And if he doesn't go willingly..." She didn't need to finish.
They'd cut him off. Leave him with nothing. Make sure everyone knew that this was what happened when you chose sin over salvation.
"You really thought this was just about helping a repressed kid find himself, didn't you?" Rebecca said, something shifting in her expression.
"I thought—" My voice cracked. "I thought maybe if he knew someone could love him for who he really is, he'd find the courage to choose himself."
"Well, congratulations." She turned to go, then paused, looking back at me over her shoulder. "You got what you wanted. Jesse Miller just chose himself in the most public way possible."
Her voice broke on the last words.
"I just hope he survives what comes next. Because I can't protect him anymore."
Then she was gone, pushing through the crowd after Jesse, leaving me standing there with the horrible understanding of what I'd really done.
I hadn't just outed their success story.
I'd destroyed the one protection he had. The one person who was willing to sacrifice everything to keep him safe.
And now he was completely alone.
"Holy shit, that was—" Phoenix appeared at my elbow, eyes wide with excitement and shock, their phone already out and recording.
"Not now." Andrew materialized on my other side, his face grim. He took one look at my expression and immediately stepped into crisis mode. "We need to get you out of here."
"But did you see—" Phoenix started.
"Phoenix. Not. Now." Diana's voice cut through whatever they were about to say. She appeared with Elijah flanking them, and suddenly I was being shepherded off the stage and toward the exits.
The walk across campus felt like running a gauntlet. Word was spreading faster than wildfire—I could see it in the way conversations stopped when we passed, in the way people turned to stare and whisper behind their hands.
"Adrian Costas and Jesse Miller—"
"—kissed right on stage—"
"—isn't he the one from those protests—"
"—his parents were there, did you see their faces—"
Phoenix kept checking their phone, their expression growing more alarmed with each notification. "Uh, guys? We might have a problem."
"How bad?" Elijah asked.
"Remember that video of the cat that fell off the table that got twelve million views in four hours?" Phoenix held up their screen. "We're tracking to beat it."
My stomach dropped. "Show me."
"Adrian, maybe we should wait until—" Diana started.
"Show me."
Phoenix reluctantly turned their phone toward me. The video was grainy, shot from somewhere in the middle of the auditorium, but the audio was crystal clear. I watched myself finishing my argument about love and freedom, watched Jesse's face as something shifted in his expression.
And then I watched him kiss me.
Even in the shaky phone footage, you could see everything. The desperation in the way he grabbed my face. The hunger in the kiss itself. The pure terror that flooded his features the moment he pulled away.
The comments were already pouring in:
"YOOOOO did that just happen??"
"Plot twist of the century"
"Someone's getting disowned tonight"
"His parents were literally RIGHT THERE"
"Topeka Covenant kid comes out HARD"
"This is either the most romantic thing ever or the most tragic"
"Both. Definitely both."
I handed the phone back to Phoenix, my hands shaking again. "How many views?"
"Fifty thousand and climbing. Fast."
We walked in silence for a few more blocks, my friends forming a protective bubble around me. But I could feel their tension, their uncertainty about what to say or do. This wasn't just campus drama anymore. This was a potential disaster.
"He's from Topeka Covenant Church," I said finally. "Elder David Miller's son. Their poster child for conversion therapy success."
The protective bubble stumbled to a halt.
"What?" Andrew's voice was sharp.
"Rebecca told me. His family—they're not just conservative Christians. His father is one of Covenant's inner circle. And Jesse—" I swallowed hard. "When he was fourteen, they sent him to conversion therapy for eight months. He's been their success story ever since."
"Oh, fuck." Phoenix went pale. "Oh, fuck, Adrian. That's—that's bad. That's really, really bad."
"I know."
"No, you don't understand." Elijah's voice was tight. "My cousin went to school with some kids from that church. When one of them came out, they didn't just disown him. They held a funeral. They literally mourned him as if he was dead."
Diana made a small, pained sound. "And Jesse just—in front of everyone—"
"Yeah." I started walking again, faster now. "I need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay."
But even as I said it, I was remembering Rebecca's words. Conversion therapy. Public demonstration. Making an example of him.
Jesse wasn't just facing rejection from his family. He was facing everything he'd ever been terrified of.
And it was my fault.
By the time we reached the house, I was practically running. My phone had been buzzing nonstop—notifications from every app I had. Jesse Miller and Adrian Costas were trending on Twitter. TikTok. Instagram. Even LinkedIn, somehow.
The video was everywhere.
And Jesse was nowhere.
The front door of the house was already open before we reached it. News traveled fast in our little community, and by the time we made it to the living room, the entire family had assembled.
Jamie was curled up in the corner of the couch, openly crying. But these weren't her usual happy tears—the ones she shed at romantic comedies and surprise proposals. These were upset tears, worried tears.
Sam sat rigid in the opposite corner, arms crossed, their expression thunderous. They'd barely looked at me since we walked in.
"Emergency meeting," Andrew announced, settling into his usual spot.
I remained standing, too wired to sit. My phone was still buzzing constantly—I'd turned off notifications but I could feel it vibrating against my leg like an angry wasp.
"So," Andrew said carefully. "That happened."
"That happened," I agreed.
"Explain," Sam said flatly.
"I don't know what to explain." I ran my hands through my hair, trying to organize my thoughts while the weight of Rebecca's revelation crushed down on me.
"We were debating. Constitutional law, civil rights, freedom to marry.
Jesse was—God, he was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
I've never heard him speak like that before. "
"How was he speaking?" Diana asked gently.
"Like himself. Like he'd finally found his own voice instead of just parroting what he'd been taught." I started pacing. "He was passionate, articulate, arguing for love and equality and—and then we finished, and he looked at me like..."
"Like what?" Jamie whispered.
"Like he was seeing me for the first time. Really seeing me. And then he just—" I touched my lips unconsciously. "He grabbed my face and kissed me. I didn't expect it. Hell, I don't think he expected it."
"And then?" Elijah prompted.
"And then he looked at me like I was the devil himself and ran."
The room fell quiet except for Jamie's sniffling.
"His parents were there," Diana said quietly.
"I know. Jesse told me before the debate." I stopped pacing, facing them. "Rebecca confronted me after Jesse ran away, and told me something else. Things I should have known, should have figured out weeks ago."
"What?" Andrew's voice was careful.
"Jesse's father isn't just any Topeka Covenant member. He's Elder David Miller. One of their inner circle. And Jesse—" I swallowed hard. "Jesse is their poster child. Their success story."
Phoenix looked up from their phone, face pale. "Success story for what?"
"Conversion therapy," I said quietly. "When he was fourteen, they found gay porn on his computer. Sent him away for eight months. When he came back, he was perfect. The ideal Christian son who never stepped out of line again."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Phoenix breathed.
"Language," Diana said automatically, then shook her head. "Sorry. Force of habit. But—Adrian, that explains so much."
"His rigid control," Elijah said quietly. "The way he flinches when people get too close."
"The way he talks like every word is being monitored," Andrew added.
"Because it was," I said. "For years, it was. And now—now I've proved that their flagship success story was actually a failure. That their golden boy was still gay, still 'broken,' still everything they've spent years saying they fixed."
Sam leaned forward. "So this isn't just about Jesse losing his family."
"No. This is about the public humiliation of one of their most prominent leaders. About their entire ideology being called into question." I sank into the nearest chair. "They can't just quietly disown him. Not when he's been their poster child."
"They'll have to make an example of him," Andrew said grimly.
"Rebecca said they'll send him back. But not quietly this time. Publicly, as a demonstration of their commitment to their beliefs."
Phoenix had been scrolling through their phone, their expression growing more alarmed. "It's getting worse. The video's everywhere. Someone already identified his father in the background, found old interviews about Jesse's 'recovery.'"
They held up their phone showing a grainy photo from what looked like a church newsletter. Jesse, maybe sixteen, standing next to his father at some kind of podium. He looked hollow, empty, like someone had scooped out everything that made him himself.
"Two million views and counting," Phoenix continued. "People are sharing it with captions like 'conversion therapy exposed' and 'poster child for failure.'"
"So Jesse isn't just facing personal consequences," Diana realized. "He's become a symbol."