48. Brad
48
brAD
M aybe it was getting the weight off my chest, or maybe there was something to the power of love, but I felt stronger when I played the last half of the game. I felt like we were invincible, even if the rest of the team didn’t seem to share that vision. I’d kissed Dylan and told him how I felt, and even more, told everyone how I felt. Including my parents and Shane and Theo and anyone else who’d ever questioned us or wondered.
When the game was over, people started rushing onto the field, people congratulating us or wanting their scoop. My parents hovered near the sidelines, and I approached them with a smile.
“Congratulations, kid, you did good,” Dad said.
“Except for the weird halftime thing,” my brother looked at me skeptically.
Mom waved a hand in his direction. “Shush, it was so sweet. Brad, darling, why didn’t you ever tell us about any of this? I don’t think we know much about this boy…”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Ah…hey, Mom, can we all get dinner together? After I shower and everything? I can explain then.”
They all exchanged a look, like they weren’t sure where this request was coming from, but was it really so weird? They only came to some of my games — the biggest ones — and they always got dinner with me afterward. Maybe it was just different because of Dylan, because of everything that had happened right in front of them.
“Well, sure. Will he be joining us?” she asked.
“If you’re inviting him…it would mean a lot.” I didn’t ask a lot of my parents when I could help it. They’d already given a lot to me, and I didn’t want to be ungrateful by making demanding requests, but Dylan was important. After all, I’d already done this in front of everyone — what was one little dinner?
Dylan shifted next to me. “Uh, thanks for letting me tag along,” he said, offering a hint of a smile. That lazy sort of halfhearted smile of his, like he wasn’t ready to commit to the full thing. Which was a shame, because he had such a pretty smile.
“Well…you’re important to Brad. Why wouldn’t we?” Mom said, smiling at him kindly. Not that she ever looked any other way at most people.
I glanced around at the scene. I didn’t expect to have to have this conversation because of my little announcement, but I didn’t think much further than telling the world how I felt. “So…you basically heard most of it. I love Dylan and…you know, I don’t know what the future is going to bring. I might go pro, but I don’t want to do it on any terms other than mine, you know? If I’m going to do it…I want to have the people I care about around me. That includes Dylan,” I said, reaching for his hand.
His eyes widened a little, like he couldn’t believe the words. I couldn’t, either. My parents looked confused, Dad’s eyebrows knitting into a frown and Mom’s lips pressed together in a thin line.
“Well…it’s your life, kid,” Dad said, shrugging a little.
“Yeah, honey, I’m a little confused why you thought we might feel otherwise? Dylan seems perfectly nice. What is it you think we would have a problem with?” Mom took a sip of her wine, eyeing us. Like she was trying to figure out what I was hiding.
I cleared my throat, trying to summon the words and courage to push through. I’d been working toward that. My parents were great. Maybe they didn’t understand what I meant. “Like…my whole life you guys have talked about what kind of person I should go for, you know? Cheerleader type, into football, someone who fits in with the family, right?”
Dylan glanced at me, and I could feel him getting a little uncomfortable. Maybe he wasn’t used to hearing this kind of thing, or maybe he didn’t know the specifics.
“Well, honey…you never corrected us. We didn’t know what you liked,” Mom explained.
My brother nodded. “You kept quiet, dude,” he shrugged and took a bite of pizza.
Oh.
It couldn’t be that simple, could it? That I’d somehow misunderstood for all these years? That couldn’t be right. If so, it meant I’d lived with this lie far too long.
“Ah…well, I’m definitely not those things,” Dylan said, offering more than a few words at a time. It was cute that he seemed so conscious of not making a bad impression. It wasn’t really him, it wasn’t his thing to pretend to be something he wasn’t. I attributed it to nerves. Dylan was always amazing, I just hoped they could get to know his true self.
Mom smiled. “So what are you like?”
Dylan took a sip of his soda, considering maybe what he was going to say or what the right answer was. If there was one. “Well, I’m a music major. Studying sound engineering, actually, I want to be a producer. I’m from the LA area…ah, I skateboard. That’s pretty much it.” He glanced at me like he was trying to figure out if he was missing something.
“Dylan’s really great, he plays the drums, too.”
My brother raised his eyebrows. “That’s pretty cool. Are you in a band?”
Dylan shook his head. “Nah, I was in high school for a bit, but it didn’t work out and I realized maybe I’m not cut out for the full on musician life, y’know? I love music, though, and I want to be around music all the time. Every day. So I figured this was a cool way to do that.”
“How interesting. What do your parents do?” Mom asked.
I glanced at her, trying to signal that maybe she should drop it. She either didn’t see me or she ignored it.
“Oh, uh…well, my dad’s an accountant. My mom…the last time I saw her, she was an admin assistant, but I haven’t seen her in years.” Dylan offered, measuring every word like he wasn’t sure if they were going to say something.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that. She just left? How horrible.”
“It’s okay. It’s been a while now, so…” Dylan trailed off, taking another sip of soda.
He hardly talked about his parents, like he didn’t want to taint anyone’s thoughts or perceptions of them, even if it was complicated. Even with me he rarely said anything, like he was afraid to speak of them much, even less for his brother, but I knew that looking at my brother and seeing our family had to remind him.
I knew him better than anyone. It had to be something he was conscious of, something he wanted to think about later. This was how his family used to be, maybe, that it was what he still thought of as a family.
I didn’t know what he was thinking. I was only considering the possibilities. I couldn’t imagine living the sort of life he did, with my mom and brother gone. I was so close to mine that it didn’t seem right.
As they continued to talk, the tension began to ease away, and I was left feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. What had I been so nervous about again? Why had I worried that my parents wouldn’t like him? Dylan was amazing. He was a little quirky, but he was always so chill that it was almost hard to imagine people not liking him.
Somehow, I’d spun myself into this web of self doubt and worry that he wasn’t good enough for them, and I realized all at once, as he gave his latest thoughts about pizza cutters and they laughed, that things would be fine.