Chapter 7 The Worst Night of My Life #3
She must have been standing outside the door. I didn’t know how long she’d been there or how much she’d heard, but I didn’t care one way or the other.
“You’re a bully, Trev. You’re a bully and a jerk, and I hope one day someone does to you what you’ve done to me.
What you’ve done to him. And when it happens,” I took a step forward, driving my finger into his chest as hard as I could.
“I hope it breaks you. I hope it eats away at you so bad that even God can’t help you heal.
And when you ask Him for help—when you cry out to Him in the middle of the night—I pray He doesn’t answer.
I pray He abandons you, because that’s what you deserve. ”
“Steady now, you’re saying stuff you’re not going to be able to take back—”
“I don’t want to take it back. I want you to know exactly what you are to me.
You’re a coward, Trevor. A coward and a bigot, and even God can’t save you from what you’ve done.
So, you can get out of my way, and then you can go straight to Hell.
” I shoved my palms into his chest so hard that he stumbled backward, crashing into the hallway wall.
When I walked out of the bedroom, Momma’s face was white as a ghost.
“Grayson,” she said, her voice hardly even a whisper. “You can’t …”
“I love you,” I said, pulling her in for a hug, “I love you more than the whole world, but I’m not staying here while Kent’s out there without anyone.
He’s …” I choked back the sob demanding release.
There would be time enough for tears when this was over.
“He’s no good on his own. He needs somebody. ”
I thought of finally saying it. I was almost home free, and I had nothing to lose.
I could have just opened my mouth and blurted out that I was gay, and that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Kent Fox, but there was still that small twinge inside.
The little string of doubt hiding in my heart.
“What if he’s already gone?” the voice had said. “What if he’s gone and doesn’t want you anymore. What are you going to do then?”
“What the hell is all this racket about?” My father’s voice rang out from down the hall. “For the love of God, I’ve been up all night trying to deliver a damn calf, and the second I manage to get a little shuteye, you all lose your minds.”
His eyes were half-lidded with sleep when he made it to my doorway. He spotted the backpack in my hand and arched an eyebrow. “I thought school ended last week.”
“It did,” I said, pushing past Momma. I made it into the hallway, but Daddy was in the center, blocking my escape.
“Then where in the world are you going, buddy?” He cocked a smile at me. “Don’t tell me, you and Kent are heading out to the lake. I knew you’d be back on speaking terms soon enough.”
He didn’t know? Why wouldn’t Momma tell him?
“His parents kicked him out. He’s getting on a bus and heading for Dallas.” Tears welled in my eyes, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.
Dad’s jaw went slack, his mouth hanging open. “Why the hell would Joel and Cat kick him out?”
I shot a glare at Trevor. “Because they found out he’s gay.”
Trevor and Momma’s gazes dropped to the floor, but Daddy’s stayed locked on me. The muscles in his jaw flexed, and his hands were fisted at his sides. For a second, I thought he was going to forbid me from ever seeing him again.
“Grayson,” he said, taking in a deep breath when he was done.
“Go.” My heart stalled in my chest. I knew it.
He was kicking me out. Just like Kent. He must have sensed something was off, because he reached out and squeezed my shoulder.
“Go to the bus station, son. Don’t let him get on that bus.
If he’s not there, come home and wait by the phone. ”
He turned around and headed back to his room. I tailed behind, not sure what he was getting at. When I made it to their door, he was already sliding on his shoes and grabbing his keys off the end of the dresser.
“Get a move on. Those buses run behind, we’ve still got a chance.”
“What are you—where am I supposed to take him if I find him? His parents kicked him out.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Here, son. You bring him here. Kent’s family. I’m not having him sleeping on the damn streets.”
My heart slammed in my chest. I couldn’t. Trevor would kill him. But I could go with him. If I could make it on time, we could both leave together.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“I’m going to have myself a nice, long talk with Pastor Fox. Now, hurry up. Get down there, and bring him home.”
I turned and ran down the stairs, past the picture-lined walls that showed the story of our family.
Out the door, and toward my pickup truck.
Every step I took was a step away from God and toward the man I loved.
The man who loved me back. And wasn’t that just something?
Out of all the men out there, all the hearts he could’ve chosen, Kent had chosen mine.
It wasn’t a particularly unique heart. Just a large mass inside of me that pumped blood against a thumping chorus of Kent-Kent-Kent.
Still, he’d chosen it. Cherished it. Kept it safeguarded from all the hurt and ache that was flung its way.
It’s like that song, the one I sang just for him.
I wasn’t what he’d planned on, but maybe I could be what he needed. Who he needed me to be.
I grabbed a rose from the bushes in front of our porch and ran to my truck.
Making my way down Main Street, I hit every stoplight along the way.
I sped down Dudley Avenue, past Bronson’s Bakery, making a hard right on North Third Street.
The bus station was just past the Pick-n-Save, three intersections down.
I skidded to a stop, taking up three parking spaces, before hopping out of my truck, and leaving the door wide open, not bothering to turn it off.
There were a few cars out front, which gave me hope. Maybe they belonged to family members who’d come to see their loved ones off. Maybe the bus had gotten a flat tire along the way.
Maybe I was just holding onto something that had already been taken.
I rushed into the bus station, my eyes darting around frantically, desperate to catch sight of his curly hair.
There was a woman by a vending machine, banging the side of her fist against the glass, trying to dislodge a bag of Doritos that had gotten stuck.
Across the room, an elderly man was tapping his walking cane against the floor tiles, along to the beat of the song playing through the speakers.
There were four people in that room. Kent wasn’t one of them.
I took a seat in the corner of the room, just trying to catch my breath.
He was gone. Half-pint was gone, and I wasn’t ever getting him back.
Eventually, I got the nerve to ask the man at the counter if he’d seen a boy with curly hair that morning, and he confirmed what I’d been dreading. Kent was gone.
I had enough money left from helping Dad on the farm to get me to Dallas, but it already felt like I’d lost him.
I knew I had to try, though. Heck, with as slow as buses were, I might even make it there before he did.
I thought of how romantic it would be for his bus to pull up to the depot, only to be greeted by my smiling face.
It would be the first day of the rest of our lives.
Then I saw it.
There, on the counter, in an outgoing mail slot, was a letter with my name front and center.
Grayson Collins, it said, and then my address.
The man shouted something as I ripped the envelope open, but I couldn’t hear a word he said.
Once it was open, I unfolded the paper and stared down at the words, my heart shattering.
Kent was leaving my life forever, and all he could bring himself to say was, “I hate you.”
***
That evening, after I got home, Trevor tried to follow me to my room, but I slammed the door in his face.
I didn’t speak to Momma or Daddy, no matter how many times they banged on my door, I just couldn’t bring myself to open it.
I’d never felt as low and lonely as I did that day, and the reality of the situation was starting to sink in.
Half-pint was all alone, and while he was on a bus with strangers, I was sitting on my bed in my bedroom, not having lost anything while he’d just lost everything.
I still had a home. Granted, it was a home that had never felt much like a home at all, occupied by a family that never seemed all that concerned about my feelings.
Two hours after I got home, the doorbell rang downstairs. Footsteps clicked and clacked against the hardwood floors of the hallway, and a few seconds later there was a knock on my door.
“Leave me alone,” I called out, trying to stop my voice from cracking. “I already said, I don’t want to talk.”
“Grayson,” a familiar voice called out, her voice soft and broken. Why was Sister Fox at my bedroom door? Did she come to tell Momma and Daddy what Kent and I meant to each other? Would she out me? Was she going to kick my butt for touching her son? “Please open the door.”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat and wiped my nose with a tissue from my nightstand, not bothering to dry my cheeks. They’d just get wet again in a minute, so what was the point?
When I opened the door, Sister Fox looked just as hurt as I felt on the inside.
Just as emotionally bruised and broken as my heart felt.
My jaw trembled and another tear dropped down her cheek, but she steeled her emotions, hardening her face like stone.
She’d never looked at me that way. For the past four years, she had been like a second mother to me.