Chapter 12
The Space Between Towns
Joshua woke an hour later to Colin’s phone buzzing on the nightstand.
Colin stirred, reaching for it groggily. “Mm. Hello?”
Joshua checked his watch. Six forty-five.
“Yes, this is Colin,” his husband said, suddenly more alert. He sat up. “Oh, hi, yes. Of course.”
Joshua propped himself up on one elbow, watching Colin’s face.
“That’s wonderful,” Colin said, his voice warm. “I’m so glad. Yes, absolutely, I’ll pass that along to Josh and the rest of the gang.” He paused, listening. “You did exactly the right thing. Keep doing what you’re doing—she needs to know you’re in her corner.”
Another pause.
“Of course. Anytime. You have my number and Kyle’s. Use them.” Colin smiled. “Thank you for calling. Take care.”
He ended the call and looked at Joshua. “Emma’s mom.”
“Yeah?”
“Emma showed her parents the collage she made. They talked for two hours.” Colin’s eyes were damp with tears. “She said that’s never happened before.”
Joshua felt something loosen in his chest. “That’s huge.”
“Yeah.” Colin set the phone down. “She wanted us to know they’re filing the Title IX complaint tomorrow. She said we gave them hope.”
“Okay,” Colin said finally. “Now I’m definitely awake.”
Joshua laughed and checked the time. “We should probably get ready for dinner before Nate starts pounding on the door.”
The diner across the street was the kind of place that served breakfast all day and had a laminated menu with too many pages. They slid into a booth—Colin and Joshua on one side, Nate and Trent on the other—and a waitress who looked to be in her sixties appeared almost immediately with a coffeepot.
“Y’all look exhausted,” she said cheerfully, filling their mugs without asking. “Long day?”
“Long weekend,” Trent said.
“Well, you’re in the right place. Food’ll fix you right up.”
She disappeared, and they all reached for their coffee.
“So,” Nate said after his first sip. “How are we feeling? Debrief time?”
Colin wrapped both hands around his mug. “Honestly? I’m not sure yet.”
“That’s fair,” Nate said. “It was a lot.”
“It went well, though,” Joshua said. “The kids showed up. They engaged. They trusted us enough to be vulnerable.”
The waitress returned with menus, and they ordered—comfort food, mostly. Burgers, fries, a turkey club for Joshua. When she left, Nate leaned back in the booth.
“Can I be honest about something?”
“Always,” Colin said.
“I wasn’t sure we’d get anyone to show up,” Nate admitted. “Like, I knew Kyle had the contacts, but rural Virginia? I kept thinking, what if we set all this up and nobody comes?”
“I had the same thought,” Joshua said.
“Especially after we saw the town,” Colin added. “It’s so small.”
“And yet,” Nate said, gesturing vaguely, “eight kids. Eight brave-as-hell kids who showed up and did the work. That’s...” He shook his head.
“Kyle made that possible,” Trent said. “He laid the groundwork. Built the trust.”
“And the parents’ session,” Joshua added. “Sharon and Paul were phenomenal. Those parents needed to see other parents who’d been through it and came out okay.”
“Sharon told me at lunch today that one of the moms cornered her after the session,” Colin said. “Crying. Said she’d been terrified her son was going to hell, and Sharon talked her down. Gave her resources, told her about PFLAG.”
Nate’s eyes went bright. “God, I love Sharon.”
“We all do,” Colin said.
The food arrived, and for a few minutes they just ate, letting the comfort of hot food and decent coffee settle them.
Trent set down his burger and cleared his throat. “Can I say something?”
“Of course,” Joshua said.
Trent looked uncomfortable. “This weekend was incredible.”
“Thanks, man,” Colin said.
“But...” Trent paused, his jaw working. “I feel like I’m not actually contributing anything.”
The table went quiet.
“That’s not true,” Nate said immediately. “You’re—”
“I am, though,” Trent interrupted. “I drive the bus. I help carry boxes. I stand around and watch you guys do the real work.” He looked at Joshua. “You’re running therapy sessions. Nate’s doing creative workshops. Colin’s handling legal stuff and security. And I’m just... there.”
Colin exchanged a look with Joshua.
“I’m a physical therapist,” Trent continued.
“I work with people’s bodies every day. I know about stress, about trauma, about how physical movement can help with emotional regulation.
But I’m not doing any of that. I’m just…
” He gestured helplessly. “I want to do more. I want to actually help these kids, not just observe from the sidelines.”
Nate was staring at Trent with something like wonder on his face. “Why didn’t you say something before?”
“Because I didn’t want to make it about me,” Trent said.
“Bullshit,” Colin said flatly.
Trent looked at him.
“You’re part of this team,” Colin said. “And if you want to contribute more, we figure out how to make that happen.”
Joshua was already pulling out his notebook. “What could you do that would feel meaningful to you?”
Trent hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it. Kids dealing with stress and trauma—a lot of that gets stored in the body. I could–maybe–lead some kind of movement session? Nothing intense, just gentle stretching, breathing exercises, ways to release tension.”
“Yes,” Nate said immediately. “That’s perfect!”
“And body image stuff,” Trent added, warming to it now. “LGBTQ+ kids often have complicated relationships with their bodies—dysphoria, eating issues, feeling uncomfortable in their own skin. I could talk about that. About finding ways to feel at home in your body.”
“Emilio would have benefited from that,” Colin said, thinking of the football player. “He was carrying so much tension. You could see it in his shoulders.”
“Exactly,” Trent said. “And kids who play sports but are scared to come out—I could speak to that. I was on the swim team for years. I know what it’s like to be in a hypermasculine environment and worry about being accepted.”
Joshua was writing furiously. “We could add a morning movement session. Start each day with fifteen minutes of gentle exercise, stretching, maybe some mindful breathing.”
“And maybe an afternoon session on body awareness and wellness,” Nate suggested. “Make it optional, so kids who are interested can dive deeper.”
Trent’s expression had shifted from uncertain to hopeful. “You really think that would work?”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Joshua said. “And I’m pissed at myself for not thinking of it sooner.”
“You’re a licensed physical therapist, for Christ’s sake,” Colin muttered. “We’ve been wasting your expertise.”
“I also want to do more to help with the security stuff,” Trent offered. “I know you’re handling that, Colin, but I’ve got a good eye for exit routes and crowd management. Two heads are better than one.”
“Deal,” Colin said. “Especially for Wise. God knows I need all the help I can get.”
Nate squeezed Trent’s arm. “Thank you for speaking up. This makes the program so much better.”
“And it’s not just about what you can do for the program,” Joshua added. “It’s about you being part of this work in a way that feels authentic to who you are. We want that for you.”
Trent’s eyes went bright. “Thanks, guys. I—” He cleared his throat. “This means a lot.”
“We’ll add it to the schedule starting tomorrow,” Joshua said. “Abingdon gets the full Trent Peterson experience.”
“Better warn Rebecca,” Colin said. “She’s about to meet the most enthusiastic physical therapist in Virginia.”
They all laughed, and the tension that had been sitting over the table lifted.
“Okay,” Nate said. “Now that we’ve got that sorted—next stop is Abingdon, right?”
“Yeah,” Colin said. “We’ve got tomorrow to drive and get set up.”
As they walked back to the motel, Nate fell into step beside Colin. “Hey. You doing okay?”
Colin glanced at him. “Yeah.”
“You’ve been quiet. Well, quieter than usual.”
Colin managed a small smile. “Just thinking.”
“About Wise?”
“Among other things.”
“You don’t have to carry all of this alone. We’re a team. You speak up if there’s any way I can make things easier for you.” He linked his arm with Colin’s. “You know it hasn’t been all that long since you went through a really bad time emotionally. Let me help where I can.”
“I will,” Colin promised.
Nate didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it go.
Back in their room, Colin sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone. He had a text from Sharon: Alex is exhausted but okay. He’s excited about coming back for the last two stops. We’ll bring him to Onancock on Friday. Drive safe.
He showed Joshua, who smiled, then kicked off his shoes and sat down next to him. “You’ve been thinking about Kathy, haven’t you?”
Colin looked at him, surprised.
“You get this look,” Joshua said gently. “Like you’re somewhere else.”
Colin set his phone down. “Emma reminded me of her. The way she was hiding what she was going through. The way she was just... enduring.”
“We can’t save everyone,” Joshua said quietly, reading his mind. “You know that.”
“I know,” Colin said. “But we can try to save the ones we can reach.”
Joshua squeezed his knee. “I just don’t want you to burn yourself out.”
Colin managed a smile and laid his hand on top of Joshua’s. “I’m fine, babe. Plus, I’ve got you to stop me if I start to spiral.”
“Damn right you do.”
They sat there for a moment, the sound of the motel settling around them—doors closing, muffled TV, someone laughing in the hallway.
“Do you think we’re ready for Wise?” Joshua asked.
Colin considered. “I think we’re as ready as we can be. We knew going into this that some stops would be harder than others. And I’ve put a lot of strong preventative measures in place.” He gazed out the window where night was rapidly falling. “Farmville set a high bar.”