Another Dumb Jock

Chapter One

“This is the fourth time you’ve been in my office this

month,” Mr. Voorheis said without bothering to take his
eyes off his computer monitor. “Adam, come in and have a
seat.” He removed his glasses and turned to me, releasing
a slow, audible sigh. Voorheis’ puffy face was red, as
always, and the overhead light reflected off his nearly bald
head. He was one of those not-quite-completely bald types,
sporting a ring of hair just above his ears.

Without speaking, I shuffled over to the chair,

plopping  down  as  if  in  my  own  living  room  preparing  to
watch  the  big  game.  His  glare  suggested  I  should  sit  up
straight, but I didn’t feel like it. I looked away and stared out
the  window.  I  wasn’t  any  happier  about  being  here  for  a
fourth  time  than  he  was  seeing  me  again,  but  I  had  no
remorse for my actions.

“What is it this time, Adam?” he asked.

I shrugged, refusing to waste the effort it would take

to verbalize my response.

“I’m talking to you, Adam,” he said, a little louder. He

removed his round glasses and placed them on the desk in
front of him, folding his hands together as if praying. “What
did you do this time? Another fight?”

No matter what I said, he wouldn’t believe me, so I

didn’t bother trying. After a few seconds, I nodded and then
looked down at the floor between my feet.

I heard him push his chair back and again he

sighed. “Look at me, Adam,” he said, his voice even. “I’m
getting sick of this. My patience is running thin … well
actually, it’s run out. I’m calling your father.”

I glared at him, biting my lip. Part of me wanted to

protest. I wanted to state my case and explain why I
punched Derek, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Maybe
if I pled with him—begged for mercy—he wouldn’t call my
father, but I’d done that before. And here I was again. I
knew it wouldn’t work this time, so I just shrugged.

He made me wait outside his office until my father

arrived. Said he wanted me to think about what I had done
and be ready with an explanation. I didn’t care about his
threats. What could he do to me other than kick me out of
school? Like that’d be a punishment anyway.

The chairs in the waiting area had square wooden

frames and over-sized burgundy cushions. It reminded me
of a dentist’s office. This was the single area of the school
where they provided students a comfortable seat. Whoever
thought  up  that  idea  had  perhaps  been  a  student  like  me
who  had  frequently  gotten  called  to  the  office.  In  truth,  I
wasn’t  always  like  that.  It  wasn’t  until  this  year—the  ninth
grade—that I’d ever been in trouble. Yet now, four times in

a month, I sat here staring at the artificial ficus tree that
adorned the administrative office’s waiting room.

I shifted in my chair, nervous, when the door opened.

I could tell without even looking that it was him. I could tell
just by the sound of his walk. He stopped at the desk before
speaking to me. “Excuse me, Mr. Voorheis called me. I’m
Mr. Irwin.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here, Mr. Irwin, if you want to

have a seat.”

I looked down at the tile between my shoes. Nike

Shox. My favorite pair. Father got them for me right before
Christmas. He laughed and said he didn’t know why he
bothered to spend a hundred fifty bucks on shoes I was
going to outgrow in three months. He was right—they were
already almost too small.

When I felt his hand on my shoulder, I pulled away, but
still didn’t look up at him.

“Adam, what’s this all about?” he asked. He sat down
beside me.

I didn’t answer.

“Adam, what happened?”

I was both relieved and startled when the secretary

interrupted us, saying that Mr. Voorheis was ready to see

us. At least it gave me a reprieve—for a few seconds.

As we entered the office, the principal stepped over

to shake my father’s hand. “I’m sorry to have to call you in
like this, Mr. Willson.”

“Irwin,” my father corrected him. “I’m Jeff Irwin,

Adam’s father. Brett Willson is my husband, Adam’s other
dad.”

My face felt hot. I didn’t look at Voorheis but

imagined  his  reaction.  Bewilderment.  Shock.  He  was
probably  shaking  his  head,  not  knowing  what  to  say.  He
didn’t seem bothered, though. “Well, nice to meet you, sir.
Unfortunately,  I  wish  it  were  under  better  circumstances.
Won’t you please have a seat?”

“Mr. Irwin,” Voorheis began, “Adam’s always been a

model student. I’ve reviewed his junior high records, and
he’s never been in any kind of trouble. Straight As until
recently.”

My father nodded. “Yes.” I could hear the concern in

his voice. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”

“This is the fourth incident,” Voorheis said. “Not only

has Adam gotten into several fights, but his grades are
slipping. He’s on the verge of failing two of his classes.”

“What?” He was pissed. I could tell by his tone that he
was about to lose it. “What do you mean? Why don’t I

know…”

“Mr. Irwin, I’ve been trying to work with Adam. He’s
begged me not to call you.”

“Adam, why?” he reached over to place his hand on
my arm. I pulled away.

“Adam’s gotten into four fights. This time he broke

another student’s nose.” I finally looked up, resisting the
urge to grin.

I actually broke that bastard’s nose?

The look

on Voorheis’ face told me I had nothing to be proud of.

“Adam!” my father exclaimed. “What on earth?” The

high pitched tone of his voice was irritating. Embarrassing.
Why did he have to be like that, act so nelly when he got
upset?

“I’m afraid I have no choice but to suspend Adam for

five days,” Voorheis said. “And of course there is the matter
of the other student’s medical expenses. And…”

“Of course,” my father interrupted. “How is the boy? Is
he going to be all right?”

“I think he’ll be fine,” Voorheis said. “He will be
suspended as well. My understanding is that he was
the instigator.”

I was surprised to hear him say it. “Yeah!” I finally
spoke. “Derek started it!”

“Young man,” my father said. I could sense that he

was  holding  back  his  temper.  “I  don’t  care  who  started  it.
We  don’t  go  around  punching  other  people  in  the  face!”
Father’s  posture  was  perfect,  his  shoulders  squared  and
his  feet  flat  on  the  floor  in  front  of  him.  He  raised  his  chin
and tilted his head back slightly as he spoke. I looked him
in the eye for a split second, and then turned away.

Voorheis picked up his phone and pressed a couple

buttons. “Irene, can you escort Mr. Willson down to his
locker? He’s going to need to collect his belongings. He’s
on a five day suspension… Thank you, I’ll send him out.”

He nodded to me. “Go with Ms. Stewart. She’ll take
you to your locker while I finish talking to your father.”

“I want to know why this happened,” my father said.
“Adam?”

I didn’t answer but instead slid out of my seat and
stepped briskly to the door.

“Adam?” I heard him repeat my name but ignored him,
slipping outside and closing the door behind me.

Ms. Stewart was hot, at least according to all the

other freshmen guys. They talked about her, how she had a
nice rack. And she always wore those sweaters that
displayed her wares. She was also really nice. Genuine
southern charm.

“Now just what did ya’ll do this time, Mr. Adam?

Getting yourself suspended an all.”

I shrugged and grinned at her, trying to be cool. I

tossed my head slightly to the left. It was a habit—my way of
flipping my bangs out of my eyes.

“I already know what you did, Mister,” she said,

pointing at me with one of her long, fuchsia-colored
fingernails. “You broke Derek Peterson’s nose. What’d he
do to make you so mad?”

I shrugged. “Runnin his mouth…again.”

“Ah, I see,” she said, nodding and frowning. She

smelled tropical, like suntan lotion. Maybe she used cocoa
butter lotion or shampoo. Whatever it was, I liked it.

“Well, come with me. Let’s get your stuff from your
locker. You need a box or something?”

I shook my head. “I have a backpack.”

“Your first game’s this weekend,” she reminded me.
“Guess you won’t be starting.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Whatta ya mean?” I
asked.

“Well, you’re suspended. You can’t attend any school
functions while on suspension.”

“But I’m pitching!” I protested.

“You

were

pitching… til you went and punched Derek

Peterson in the nose.”

“Man, are you

serious?

”

“As a heart attack,” she said.

“Crap! That sucks.” I was going to be in so much

trouble with my coach. Worse than that, though, is what my
dad was gonna say.

Dad is Brett, and my father is Jeff. That’s how my

sister Lisa and I have always distinguished them from each
other. When we were little we called Jeff “Daddy” and Brett
was “Dad”. By the time I was in the fifth grade, it didn’t
seem so cool to use “Daddy” any more so I started calling
him “Father”.

Dad has always been “Dad”, and he

i s

my dad.

Nobody can deny it. We look exactly alike. Lisa looks more
like our father. I never really figured it out—or cared—until
recently. But it’s obvious that biologically Lisa belongs to
Father and I came from Dad. They did the turkey baster
thing with a surrogate mother. Neither Lisa nor I have ever
met her, but Dad said we could if we wanted. I don’t know. I
think I’d probably rather not know. Maybe someday.

Dad was going to be really disappointed. He’d been

really supportive of me when it came to sports. Went to all
the games and even most of the practices. We have
pictures of him from when he was in school, centuries ago,
and he was a quarterback. That was when he and Father
met. They went to school together and later got married,
after it became legal.

I didn’t know what he’d say. I didn’t really want to

know. All he’d been talking about was how proud he was of
me. After all, he was the one who taught me the game. He
taught  me  how  to  pitch,  how  to  do  everything.  Fielding.
Catching. Hitting. It started with tee ball when I was barely
big enough to walk, and then continued all the way through
grade  school.  I  played  on  the  Pee  Wee  League  and  then
Little  League,  Junior  Varsity,  and  now  Saturday  was
supposed to be my first game pitching on the Varsity team.

“Do you think there’s anything I can do?” I asked Ms.

Stewart. “Can’t I appeal to someone?”

We were in front of my locker, and she placed her

hand on her hips. With her other hand she pointed to the
padlock. “Go on,” she said, “get your stuff. Well, I suppose
you could talk to the athletic director, but I don’t think it’ll
change anything. Mr. Voorheis is the principal, and he’s the
one who decides who gets suspended.”

“But Coach Williams might be able to talk him out of

it,” I reasoned. “He might be able to get him to at least let
me play in the opening game.”

Still chewing her gum, she raised her hand to her

face, tapping her index finger against her chin. She was
thinking. “Maybe ask Mr. Williams if you can do something
else… some other form of punishment.”

“Like detention or something?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s probably too late. I
think Voorheis has already decided.”

“Well still, it’s worth a try!”

“I guess you have until Friday to get it worked out. I

don’t suppose it’d hurt to at least call him. Have your mom
or dad call him, maybe.”

“My dad!” She was right. That was a great idea. Dad

had always been friends with Coach Williams, and if
anyone could talk sense into him, it’d be Dad. “You’re
brilliant, Ms. Stewart. Thanks!”

She smiled and puffed up her chest.

Holy crap, no

wonder all the guys talked about her rack.

****

I waited for him to launch into a lecture all the way

home, but we just sat there, side by side in icy silence. I
debated bringing up the game with him. I would be better
off waiting until Dad was home, I decided. I was sure he’d

be more understanding than Father.

“I’ll make you some lunch,” Father said.

“Not hungry,” I mumbled.

“Adam, sit,” he said, pointing to the kitchen table.

I released a heavy sigh. “I said I’m not hungry. I’m just
gonna go to my room.”

“And

I said

sit,” he repeated himself. “We need to

talk.”

I should have known this was coming. If there was

one thing Father knew how to do, it was lecture. I pulled out
a chair and plopped down, scowling as I did so. My posture
told him I was not interested in anything he had to say, but
of course he ignored the obvious.

He sat across from me. “Adam, look at me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Adam… please.”

Why won’t he just leave me alone?

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” He spoke in a

hushed tone, his voice inappropriately quiet. “Your grades.
The fighting. Something is really bothering you, and if you’re
hurting,

I’m

hurting. We all are—our whole family.”

He always came off with this kind of stupid shit. Why

did everything always have to be about our

family

? This

wasn’t about them. It wasn’t about anyone but me. But there
was no point in arguing with him, because he’d never
understand.

“Mr. Voorheis said this kid Derek has been picking

on you, egging you on. Adam, are you being bullied?”

Derek

had

been picking on me…relentlessly. It had

gotten  to  the  point  that  it  was  non-stop.  It  really  wasn’t  so
bad  when  he  was  just  being  a  jackass  and  mocking  my
“Justin Bieber haircut” or calling me names. What really got
to  me,  though,  was  when  he  brought  my  dad  into  it  and
started calling him names.

I looked up at my father and made eye contact. “No!”

I said, feeling extremely defensive. “

Nobody

bullies me,

and I proved it. Derek’s a loudmouth, always saying sh…
stuff. Always talkin smack.”

He nodded, unfazed by my outburst. “Well, I can’t

say that engaging in a fist fight is the best solution, but I’m
glad you stuck up for yourself. Do you want to tell me what it
was this Derek said that made you so angry?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled. I looked away, staring

at the wall clock. It was 11:30 and I really was starving. I
wasn’t going to admit it to him though.

“I think it

does

matter,” he said. “Obviously he said

something that struck a nerve.”

“When’s Dad coming home?” I asked, changing the
subject.

“He’s out of town until Friday,” he answered. “I’m going
to call him tonight.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Why’s he got to be gone
all the time?”

“Is that what this is about?” Father asked. “You’re
upset that your dad is away so much?”

I shook my head again, annoyed. “No, I’m not a

baby. I know he’s got a job and has to travel. I just want to
talk to him, that’s all.”

“Okay. I’ll see if he can come home earlier.”

A sense of relief washed over me, yet I was

apprehensive. Dad might be pissed if he got called home
early just because of me, but I wanted him home. “It’s okay,”
I said, trying to sound ambivalent. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just
my game is supposed to be Saturday.”

“Yes, we know about your big game,” Father said, “and
your dad’s definitely going to be here for it. He’s
looking forward…”

“There’s not going to be a game!” I exclaimed. “At
least not for me. I can’t play while I’m suspended.”

He raised his eyebrows, then leaned back in his chair.
“Adam, I’m sorry. For every action, there is a reaction.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“What?”

“I mean, you got into a fight. You broke the rules, and

this is the result. Adam, it’s a part of life. Maybe if you’d
thought before you started throwing punches…”

“It isn’t fair,” I replied. “I’ve been working for this for

years. Then some loudmouth comes along and ruins it,
shooting his mouth off, calling me names.”

“I know,” he said, his voice still even. “Life isn’t fair

sometimes,  but  do  you  do  realize  that  I’m  no  stranger  to
name-calling?  Neither  is  your  dad.  But  we’ve  learned  that
the  solution  is  not  to  go  around  hitting  people.  You  could
have reported Derek to your teacher, or to the principal.”

“It doesn’t even matter now!” I was getting really

pissed. I knew he’d be like this. Trying to explain something
to him was like talking to a wall.

“Adam, it seems to me that you’re far more upset

about missing the game than you are about what you did.
That kid has a broken nose now.”

“My hand doesn’t feel too great either,” I said,

glaring at him.

“Let me see,” he said, holding out his hand for me to

show him.

“I’m fine,” I said, “and you’re right, I’m not sorry.

Derek deserved it, and I bet he won’t be calling anyone
‘faggot’ anymore. If he does, it won’t be just his nose that’s
broke.”

Father shook his head and looked away. I glanced

at him and saw his eyes welling with tears. He was so
annoyingly emotional. I knew I shouldn’t have told him.

“Adam…” he tried to respond but was choking up.

He took a breath. “Adam, please believe me. I

understand. I know those names hurt. It’s awful. It really is,
but…”

“But I’m supposed to just be like you and take it,” I

said. “I’m supposed to just let bullies like Derek go around
calling me faggot and homo and all kinds of shit like that
and never do anything about it. That’s bullshit! I’m not like
you. I’m

nothing

like you, and I’m not gonna let someone

talk to me like that!” I pushed my chair back and stood up.
“I’m done talking about this!” I stormed down the hall and
into my room, slamming the door behind me.

****

When I got to my room, I texted my friend Christian. I

knew he was on lunch and probably wondered where I was.
He responded by telling me he already heard about the
fight. It was all around school, and he said everyone thought
I was badass. I couldn’t help smiling. He said he couldn’t
believe the news about the game and that it totally sucked.

I pulled my laptop over to the bed and watched

some YouTube videos, using my headphones. Stupid and
boring as usual. I posted a comment on Tumblr, bitching
about my suspension. Checked my Facebook page—it’s
so lame.

This was going to be a long five days, especially

since Dad wouldn’t be home until Friday. I wondered how
long I’d be grounded. I decided to play video games. I could
spend hours gaming, and hopefully I’d be able to do just
that. If I was going to be confined to my room, I’d have to
have something to pass the time.

A little after noon there was a knock on my door. I

acknowledged it with a mumble and the door opened. It
was my sister.

“What’re you doing home?” I asked. She was

carrying a tray containing what appeared to be my lunch.

“I don’t have classes Tuesday and Thursday

afternoons, remember?” Yeah, that was right. She was one
of those brainiacs who’d gotten all her credits for

graduation. For her last semester she had a light load.

“I told him I’m not hungry,” I said.

“You’re always hungry,” she reminded me.

I shrugged and directed my attention back to the

game. She stepped in front of the television screen,
standing there as if it was no big deal. I shifted on the bed,
craning my neck to look around her as I continued to blast
away at my animated enemies. “Move,” I told her.

“That’s totally un-cool the way you talked to Daddy,”
she said. “He’s really upset.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course she’d take his side. “What
about what he said to me?” I asked.

“What?” she said, “that you should have realized you’d
get suspended if you punched someone?”

I pressed pause and set the controller on the bed,

realizing it was futile to even try to continue with the game. I
looked up at her. “You’d think he’d be proud or something. I
gave Derek what he deserved.”

“In school they’re saying you gave him a concussion

and two black eyes.”

I smile. “Really?”

“You know how things get exaggerated.” She thrust

the tray in my lap. It smelled good. Tomato soup with a ham
and grilled cheese sandwich.

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“Shut up and eat,” she said. She took a seat in my

desk chair while I stuffed half the sandwich in my mouth.

“It

kinda funny that you kicked his ass,” Lisa said.

“I can’t stand that kid.”

“I know,” I tried to say with my mouth full. I gulped

down the first bite, half-chewed. “He’s a jerk. Always makes
a big deal about me having two dads, says I must be a fag.”

“That’s cuz he’s an idiot,” Lisa said. “You should just
ignore him.”

“Tired of ignoring it. What’s any of that got to do with
me? Just cause my rents are gay doesn’t mean I am.”

“True,” she said, “but if you go around trying to kick the
ass of every moron, you’ll be fighting constantly.”

“So…?” I replied.

“So you kicked his butt, and now you’re this big
badass, but that doesn’t give you the right to be mean
to Daddy.”

“How was I mean to him?” I asked. “I just said I’m
nothing like him, and I’m not.”

“You two used to be so close,” she said. She leaned

forward, resting her chin in her palm and her elbow against
her knee. “You were always closer to Daddy, and I was
close to Dad.”

“Shit happens,” I said. “Guess I grew up.”

“Well, you hurt his feelings, and I think that sucks.”

“Do you even

care

that I’m totally screwed?” I asked.

I was getting pissed again. “Do you know how long I
worked for this position on the team? I’m the fucking

starting

pitcher, and now I can’t even play!”

She shook her head as if disgusted. “Adam, grow

up,” she said. She stood up and headed for the door.

“Whatever,” I said as the door slammed in my face.

****

After a couple hours in my room, I started to get

bored. I was starting to realize just how long this week was
going to be. In another hour Christian would be free, out of
the schoolyard prison. This room of mine felt sort of like my
own prison. I texted him, hoping he’d be able to respond.
We weren’t allowed to use cell phones during class, but that
had never really stopped anyone. You just had to be careful.
And sneaky.

COME OVER I said.

I waited. No response.

DUDE COME OVER AFTER SCHOOL. I tried again.

At last my phone vibrated. His response: GOING TO
MALL. MEET ME THERE.

Crap. Father would never let me go, and it was

pointless to even ask. Then again, he didn’t say I was
grounded. But if I asked and he said no, I would be really
pissed. Maybe I should just go. Sneak out without telling
anyone. It was probably not a good plan. If Dad did come
home early, he’d be super pissed. He was my only chance
of being able to pitch on Saturday, and even that was a slim
chance.

What the hell. I decided to ask anyway. Father was

in the kitchen, already starting dinner. I walked past him and
straight for the refrigerator, waiting to see if he’d speak
first. I cleared my throat. He was at the sink scrubbing
potatoes. He looked up.

“Calmed down now?” he asked.

I wanted to throw him a snappy comeback but held

my tongue. I nodded. I was thinking about what Lisa said,
that I’d hurt his feelings. “I…um…well, sorry about earlier,” I
stuttered.

He turned off the water and dried his hands on a

kitchen towel which he draped across the edge of the sink.
Turning to me, he smiled. “Come here,” he said, holding out
his arms.

I stepped over to him and allowed him to embrace

me. It was weird how all of a sudden I was taller than him.
“You’re going to need a haircut,” he observed as he pulled
back and looked me in the face. Using his fingers, he
brushed my bangs out of my eyes and up across my
forehead. I rolled my eyes.

I took a deep breath. “Father…” I began.

He stepped back but was still maintaining eye contact.

“Would it be okay if I met Christian down at the mall?”

His smile slowly faded and his expression became
serious. “Adam,” he said, “I don’t think that’s a good
idea.”

I felt myself beginning to get angry. My initial urge

was to argue with him, but I suppressed the reflex. Instead I
tried to use reason. “I’m going to go crazy if I have to stay
locked in this house for the next week. All we want to do is
just hang out…”

“Why don’t you have Christian come over here?” he
suggested. “You could go out and shoot hoops or
something.”

“Why can’t we just go to the mall?” My tone was
defensive, in spite of my efforts to stay calm. “What’s
the difference?”

“The difference is that I said no,” he said.

“Come

!” I protested.

He stepped away from me, again turning toward the

sink.

“So does that mean I’m grounded? Am I going to be

a prisoner here for the next seven days.” Since it was
Tuesday, I calculated that my suspension would be five
school days which unfortunately included the weekend.

“Adam, your dad is on his way home,” he said

calmly. “I want you here when he arrives.”

“Oh,” I said. My anger instantly began to fade and

was replaced with apprehension. “Did he sound mad?” I
asked.

“Well what do you think?” Father said. I hated when

he  was  sarcastic  like  that.  It  seemed  maybe  he  also  was
holding  back,  not  saying  all  he  wanted  to  say.  “We’ll
discuss  everything  when  he  gets  here.  In  the  meantime,  if
you want to have Christian over, that’s fine. He can stay for
dinner and then leave when your dad gets here.”

“Dad won’t be here for dinner?”

“He said not to hold it for him. His flight lands at

seven.”

That meant Dad wouldn’t even be here until eight

o’clock, so the whole thing made no sense. I could have
gone to the mall and been back in plenty of time. There was
no point in arguing though. Father never listened. It made
me wonder what he was like when he was a teenager.

people get a certain age and then suddenly become
unreasonable?

I opened the fridge and grabbed a soda. Standing

there with the door open, I scanned the shelves, looking for
something to devour. Father wasn’t even looking at me, but
it was as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

“Cold pizza on the second shelf,” he suggested. “That’ll
tide you over til dinner.”

An excellent suggestion. I grabbed the box.

“One piece,” he said. I grabbed two, thinking he
wouldn’t notice. “Or two…” he added, still without
looking at me.

Christian agreed to come over, and when he arrived

we went outside. “I seriously thought I broke my hand,” I told
him. “I can’t believe how bad it hurt, but not so much now.”

“So you really broke his nose?” Christian asked,
shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s what Voorheis said, but who knows.”

“You know you really shouldn’t let him get to you.
Everyone knows he’s an asshole.”

I nodded.

“He’s so fucking gay,” Christian added, then

suddenly stopped. He was struck with a look of panic as he
realized what he’d just said.

“I know,” I responded right away. “He’s a total

faggot

.”

At first Christian looked puzzled. He turned from me

and shot the ball, easily sinking it. “Score!” he proclaims.
“Dude, so you punched him out for calling you a fag, but
now that’s what you call him?”

I shrugged. “You’re the one who said he was gay. I

was just agreeing with you.”

“Well, you know I didn’t mean it. Not like that anyway.

I mean gay as in

gay.

Not cool. Lame.”

“What if your parents were gay?” I asked.

“I know man. I thought of that after I said it…”

“Look, it’s no big deal. I know what people mean

when they say something is gay. I was just making a point.
Honestly, I don’t give a rip who’s gay or not gay. I wish
everyone felt that way about it. Why do people hate on me
just cause my rents are gay? Not like I can help it.”

I had the ball, and I rushed him. He tried blocking me
but I slid around him and went for the lay-up.

“Nice one!” A voice from behind startled me as the ball
swished through the net. I turned to see who it was.
Dad!

“You’re early!” I exclaimed, rushing over to him.

He put his arm around me and pulled me into his

side. “Hey Christian,” he said, nodding to my friend. “I was
able to switch to an earlier flight.” He continued to squeeze
me, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder. “What’s
this I hear about a fight?”

I glanced over at Christian whose eyes widened.

“Uh yeah…

that

.” I said.

Dad nodded. “We’ll talk in a little bit. I’m gonna go in
and get changed.”

“Dad, can Christian still stay for dinner?”

“Of course,” he said without even giving it any thought.

As soon as Dad was inside I turned to Christian. “Fuck
me now,” I said, slapping my forehead with my palm.

“What? I thought you were the one who wanted him to
come home so he could get coach to let you play
Saturday.”

“I do,” I admitted, “but I know I’m gonna be in trouble
too.”

“I wish I had a dad like yours,” Christian said. “He
didn’t even seem pissed at you.”

“That’s cause you don’t know him. Believe me, he’s

really

pissed. What’s going to be even worse is if he can’t

talk coach into letting me play. Then he’s gonna be all bent
about that too. He keeps telling me how he’s looking
forward to seeing his son on the mound, pitching the varsity
game.”

“Adam, have you ever thought maybe he doesn’t

care as much about that stuff as you think he does? If all he
was worried about was the stupid game, he could have just
called coach. You know, he didn’t

have

to come home

early.”

“It’s not a stupid game,” I retorted. “And he probably

came home because my father was all in a tizzy. He gets all
worked up and emotional about everything.”

Christian shrugged. “Or maybe he’s worried about you
and just wants to be here for you and make sure you’re
all right.”

“Whatever,” I responded.

****

When we walked into the kitchen twenty minutes

later, Father was at the sink again with Dad behind him.
Dad had his arm around Father’s waist and was leaning in,
kissing his neck. When they heard us, Dad looked up but
didn’t step back.

“Wash up,” he told us. “Dinner will be ready in five.”

I hoped Christian didn’t notice them being all lovey-

dovey. They were so embarrassing sometimes. We
headed upstairs and used the big bathroom that had two
sinks.

“It’s weird,” Christian said. “Your folks are just like any
other rents. Kissin on each other and stuff.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“No, I mean it’s cool. I think most people don’t realize
how normal gay people are.”

I felt my face getting hot. I didn’t know how to respond
when Christian said stuff like that.

“Anyway, it always seems to me that they get along

with each much better than most normal parents do. Or I
don’t mean ‘normal’… I mean they

are

normal… I mean

better than straight parents.”

“Can we not talk about this?” I asked.

“Sure, sorry,” he said.

As we headed back downstairs Lisa was coming in

the  front  door,  returning  from  the  library.  “Dad!”  she
shouted, dropping her book bag in a living room chair and
crossing the room in about three steps. He grabbed hold of
her  and  hugged  her  tight.  He’d  only  been  gone  four  days,
but  you’d  have  thought  by  the  way  she  greeted  him  that  it
was a year.

Christian and I took a seat at the table. Father

placed the serving dishes in the center, and it was so weird
how everyone acted like nothing had happened. It seemed
like a typical family dinner, even though I knew if I hadn’t
been in trouble that Dad wouldn’t even be here.

Throughout the meal, Dad and Christian talked

about the Marlins. I interjected a few comments, but for the
most part I was silent. Father and Lisa weren’t interested in
sports, so she began telling him about a book she found at
the library. It felt as if I were caught in the middle of two
different conversations, neither of which I was a part.

The baseball conversation eventually evolved into a

The baseball conversation eventually evolved into a
discussion about high school sports, and Dad brought
up our team.

“ Since Adam’s the starting pitcher Saturday,” Dad
said.

I gulped and looked at Father. Maybe he hadn’t told
Dad yet. The table was suddenly silent, no one
responding.

“Yes,

Adam

will

be starting Saturday,” Dad

repeated. “It’s all worked out. We’ll talk about it after
dinner.”

“You talked to coach, then?” I asked excitedly.

Dad nodded. “I said we’ll talk about it.”

I couldn’t help myself. I was smiling broadly. I

knew

Dad would come through. He must have called coach
earlier and worked it out.

When we got done eating I jumped up and started

clearing the table. I knew I was sucking up, because I
normally never volunteered for clean-up duty. I couldn’t help
myself though, I was just so happy. I got the dishwasher
loaded, and Lisa took care of the leftovers.

“Thank you for having me for dinner, Mr. Irwin,”

Christian said. “I probably should get going home.”

“Any time, Christian,” Father said. “Normally I’d

make you stay for dessert, but…”

“I know,” he said. “You need to talk.” Christian

looked over and made eye contact with me. He held up his
hand next to his face, extending his pinky and thumb like he
was using a phone. “Call me,” he mouthed silently.

“Later,” I said, raising my hand in a semi-wave.

“Well, I’m going to go start on that book,” Lisa said.
“Think I’ll go sit on the lanai.”

Finally it was just the three of us. It felt like a little man
was inside my stomach doing somersaults.

“Come sit down,” Dad said, motioning to me. I shuffled
over to the table and pulled out the chair next to him.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he started.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Failing two classes. Four fights. Punching some kid in
the face. Getting suspended…doesn’t sound like
nothing to me.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said, sighing.

“Your daddy said you were upset because I’m gone so
much,” Dad said.

My head popped up and I glared right at Father. “I
never said that!” My denial was vehement.

“I said it was a concern of mine,” Father clarified.

“Adam, we love you, and we just want to figure out what’s
going on and how to help you.”

“Then don’t tell lies about me,” I retorted. “Don’t say I

said things that I didn’t say.”

“Young man,” Dad said, his voice very stern. “He is

your father, and you

will

show respect.”

I looked down at the table, scowling.

“Let’s start over,” Dad said. “So my schedule is not

the issue. What exactly

the issue then?”

“Dad, there’s no issue. It’s just Derek. He’s a jerk. A

loudmouth who constantly says stuff. He says things about
…” I paused, realizing I didn’t want to go where I almost did.

“About us,” Dad finished for me. “He says things

about Daddy and me?”

I wanted to correct him and tell him I don’t use the

term ‘Daddy’ anymore. Instead I just nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Dad said, placing his hand on my

shoulder. “This has always been a concern for us. It was
something we worried and talked about even before you

and your sister were born. Unfortunately, there are going to
be people who will give you a hard time because of your
parents.”

Father jumped in then. “But we thought that it would

be the same no matter who your parents were. Bullies will
be bullies and bigots will be bigots. If someone wants to
pick on other people, they will use any excuse to do so.”

“We felt that our love for you and for each other

would  be  enough,”  Dad  continued.  “Giving  you  a  loving
home  and  raising  you  in  an  environment  where  we  taught
you  to  be  proud  of  who  you  are—we  thought  that  would
outweigh  all  the  meanness  and  hatred  that  you  might
encounter from the people like Derek.”

It felt like they were lecturing me, and I didn’t know

how to respond. “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t care about Derek
or about the things he says.”

“You did care,” Dad said. “Obviously it bothered you

a lot or you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll be saying anything else like that,” I

said with a smirk.

Dad nodded. “True. And what are you going to do

the next time someone starts shooting their mouth off? You
going to punch them out too?”

“If I have to,” I said with confidence. Defiance.

“Adam, that’s not the solution,” Father said. “There’s

no end to that strategy. It will only lead to more violence.
Eventually it’s going to be someone bigger than you, and
they’ll hit back. Or it’s going to be a girl. Or a minister. Or a
politician.”

“Hate comes in a lot of forms,” Dad said. “Adam, let

me ask you something. What do your friends say about you
having two dads? What’s Christian say?”

I shrugged. “I dunno,” I replied.

“So it’s no big deal to them?”

“Not really. Christian says it’s cool.”

“Why do you think that is?” Father asked.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I’m asking you,” Father replied, far more patient

than I’d have expected him to be. “Why do

you

think

Christian is so cool with the fact your dads are gay?”

“Cause he knows you,” I said. I was starting to get a

little annoyed.

This conversation is stupid.

“He knows who

you are and what you’re like, and he says you are totally
normal.”

“Exactly,” Dad said. “People who do not know gay

people, don’t understand gay people. They think we are

some sort of circus freaks. Christian has been your friend
for years. He’s almost like part of the family, and he knows
we are just like everyone else.”

“But what’s that got to do with anything?” I asked.

“We’re just telling you, Adam, that the reason people

have attitudes like Derek is because they are ignorant.
They don’t know any gay people and so they’re afraid. They
make assumptions and judge us based on unfair
stereotypes. It’s really just a matter of education.”

“Well, I think I gave him an education,” I said.

Dad shook his head. “Adam, if you only knew how
much like you I was when I was your age.”

Father began to laugh. I looked up at him, smiling for
the first time. “What was he like?” I asked Father.

He shook his head. “Stubborn. Bull-headed. I used to
call him a dumb jock.”

“And I was,” Dad admitted.

I was grinning ear to ear. For once I agreed with my

father. I

was

like my dad, or at least I hoped I was. I couldn’t

think of anyone I’d rather emulate. “So, you used to get into
fights in school?”

He nodded slowly, frowning. “Hate to admit it, but

yes. Until…” he fisted his thumb in Father’s direction. “He
straightened me out.”

I thought I understood what they were talking about.

When  Dad  and  Father  met,  Father  was  probably  some
whiny little nerd. I could almost picture it. Dad was the big
jock  type,  and  he  protected  Father  from  being  bullied.
Eventually  Dad  started  to  get  wrapped  around  his  finger.
Pussy-whipped.

“When Daddy and I first met, he was my tutor,” Dad

said. “I was failing one of my classes, and he helped me. I
ended up passing the class, and I got to stay on the football
team.”

“Really?” I said.

They both nodded. “Which is why I’m going to get you
a tutor,” Dad said.

I immediately shook my head. “No, Dad I don’t need
any help.”

“You’re failing two classes,” Father said. “I can help
you with the grammar class, but I’m just no good with
algebra.”

“I promise I’ll do better. I’ll try harder, and with Derek off
my back…”

Dad shook his head. “It’s already decided. We want

you to try this. If the tutor doesn’t work out, fine. But you at
least have to try.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust.

“And…” Dad reached over with his fingers and

raised my chin, forcing me to look up and make eye
contact. “There is the matter of your position on the team. If
you fail these classes, you’ll be out of sports altogether.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I had to maintain a 2.5 GPA in
order to be on any varsity team.

“Now as for this incident that happened today…the
fight. The school is requiring that you see a counselor
for anger management.”

“Are you serious?” I said.

He nodded and continued. “And you will be getting a

job this summer. You now have a bill at the clinic for $837
dollars that you must pay.”

“For what?” I asked. “For his broken nose?”

“Well, you should be thankful it wasn’t broken,

actually. Had you broken he may have needed surgery, and
that bill would be in the thousands. But let’s just say you’re
going to be working most of the summer to pay this off.”

“That sucks,” I mumbled.

“Well, I’m not finished,” Dad went on. “Coach talked

to Mr. Voorheis, and he agreed to allow you to pitch this
weekend. However, you will be cleaning the locker rooms
on practice days from now until the end of the school year.”

“Dad!” I protested.

“It’s either that, or no pitching.”

“It’s not fair,” I said.

“It’s very fair,” Father said. “Adam, you’re getting off

easy. Not only is Mr. Voorheis bending the rules for you in
order to allow you to play, but you’re going to be getting
help with your classes.”

“But cleaning those disgusting locker rooms.”

“It won’t kill you,” Dad said. “Look, if you don’t want

the deal, I’ll call Coach Williams right now and tell him you
want off the team.”

“No,” I said begrudgingly. “I’ll take the deal.”

“Okay, good,” Father said. “Trevor will be here
tomorrow after school to begin your first tutoring
session.”

“Trevor? You can’t mean Trevor Ellis.”

“That’d be the one,” Father said, nodding.

Chapter Two

“Adam, wake up!”

What the hell? What time is it anyway? I rolled over and
opened my eyes…barely. Father was leaning over me.

“It’s seven o’clock, time to get up for school,” he said.

“Father,” I moaned, “I’m suspended. Remember?” I

thought that the one perk to being suspended would be that
I’d be able to sleep in. Not.

“Just cause you’re kicked out of school doesn’t

mean  you  don’t  have  school  work,”  Father  said.  “Get  up,
get  showered  and  dressed,  and  come  downstairs  for
breakfast.  Then  you’re  going  to  start  working  on  your
homework.”

“Oh man!” I whined. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, I’m very serious, young man,” he said. “Hop to it.
Time’s a wasting.”

“Ten more minutes…” I pleaded.

“Now!” He grabbed the covers and pulled them back.
“Up, up ,up!”

“All right, all right!”

Why’s he got to be such a jerk

about everything?

“See you downstairs in fifteen minutes,” he said, as

he turned to exit the room. My head fell back on the pillow
and I pulled the covers back over me. I was starting to feel
like this suspension was going to really suck.

When I stumbled downstairs into the kitchen twenty

minutes later, a big plate of pancakes was waiting for me
on the table. They smelled so yummy, but I’d decided I
wanted to be grouchy, so I didn’t tell him how good they
looked. Instead I plopped down in the chair and pushed the
plate away.

“Eat your breakfast,” he said. “I know you’re hungry,

and blueberry pancakes are your favorite.”

“It’s too early to eat,” I complained.

“It’s the exact same time you get up any other

morning,” he pointed out. “So quit being a grouch and eat.
Otherwise, it’s going to be a very long morning for both of
us.”

“You’re gonna be here?” I asked.

“I don’t have a class until tonight,” he said. Father

taught at the university three nights a week. “So today we’re
going to go through all your classes and see what we need

to do to get you caught up on everything. Then tonight your
tutor will be here.”

“But I have practice tonight,” I reminded him.

“You’re suspended from practice,” he said. “It was

hard  enough  getting  permission  for  you  to  play  at  all.  Mr.
Voorheis  is  not  going  to  let  you  back  on  school  property
until  the  day  of  the  game.  Then  you  go  back  to  school
Monday.”

“So he shortened the suspension?”

“Basically,” he nodded. “I convinced him to count the
weekend as part of the five days.”

“That would still only be four days. Tuesday,
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Then the game’s
on day five—Saturday.”

“I asked him to count Saturday as well since the game
is in the late afternoon.”

“Then why do I have to clean those stupid locker
rooms?” I picked up my orange juice and took a big
drink.

“Well that was Coach Williams’ idea,” he said. “In

order for him to even put in a good word for you with
Voorheis, he insisted there be an added punishment.”

“Wait. I thought Dad was the one who talked to

“Wait. I thought Dad was the one who talked to
Coach.”

“Your dad was in Dallas until last night. How could he
talk to anyone?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe he
called.”

“Coach Williams and I have known each other for

years. If it weren’t for that fact, he probably wouldn’t have
helped us. Just understand that he’s putting his neck out for
you by giving you another chance.”

“Father, I still have to practice,” I said. “I can’t go all

week with no practice when the game is on Saturday.”

Just then Dad stepped into the room. He walked

over and kissed Father, then poured himself a cup of
coffee. “We’ll go to the park tonight after your tutoring
session,” he says.

“What are you doing today?” I asked Dad. I’d hoped

he would be home with me.

“Golf,” he said, smiling. “Can’t you tell?” He held out

his arms, displaying his attire. A polo shirt and knee length
white shorts. “Your daddy kicked me out of the house. Said
to go have fun and enjoy my day off.”

I scowled at Father, but he didn’t even notice

because he was too busy smiling at Dad. Flirting with him

or something.

Oh brother

He’s so ridiculous sometimes.

“Don’t worry,” Dad said, “I’ll be back in plenty of time

for us to go practice. You’re right. You don’t want to let your
arm rest too long. You should throw some pitches at least.”

“We could go this morning,” I suggested. “I can do

my homework tonight when Father is at school.”

“No,” Father said. “You’ll do your school work this

morning. That comes first. Sports are extracurricular, and
they are a privilege.” He raised his voice and was pointing
at me.

Dad laughed. “You tell him,” he grinned. “Adam,

listen to your daddy. He’s a smart man. Don’t worry, I’ll be
back.” He stepped over and ruffled my hair like I was a little
kid. “I’m gonna get going. Better eat your pancakes before
they get cold.”

****

It was 11:30 and we hadn’t even taken a break yet.

Father was leaning over me, explaining some crap about
participles and gerunds, and I could not care less.

I sighed. “Even in school we get a break every hour,”

I complained.

He stopped talking and placed his hand on my

shoulder. “I’m sorry, Adam. You’re right. Guess I just got a

little carried away, but you know what? I’m really impressed.
You’ve worked very hard all morning.”

“So…does that mean I can have the afternoon off?”

He laughed. “Nice try. I’ll tell you what, though. I’ll fix

us some lunch and then afterward, we’ll do one more hour.
We haven’t even started your history homework yet. After
that, you can have the rest of the afternoon off until Trevor
gets here.”

“Oh God, I wish I could just go back to school,” I

moaned.

The afternoon actually went by quickly, and we were

done before two o’clock. That gave me at least two hours of
freedom before my so-called tutor arrived. As I sprawled
out on the living room sofa and began channel surfing the
flat screen, I was thinking about Trevor Ellis.

I’d known him all my life, pretty much. I mean, he was

just  one  of  those  kids  who’d  always  been  there.  We
probably  started  school  together  though  I  didn’t  have  any
specific  early-childhood  memories  that  included  him.  I
thought he may have been in my second-grade class, but I
couldn’t be certain.

Trevor was quiet. Nobody really talked about him or

anything. It was kind of like he was invisible, and that wasn’t
because there was anything in particular about him that
everyone hated. It was just that nobody cared about him. He

was  not  a  jock.  He  wasn’t  Goth.  Not  a  skater  dude  or  a
redneck.  Back  in  grade  school  those  kind  of  labels  didn’t
exist. We were all just kids, but by the time we started junior
high,  pretty  much  everyone  was  assigned  a  tag  of  some
kind.

Me, I was a jock, and not just because I played

baseball. There were guys on the team that I would not have
classified  as  true,  all-American  jocks.  It  was  a  distinction
that was based on image more than anything else. All jocks
participated in sports, but not all participants of sports were
jocks—if  that  makes  any  sense.  This  one  dude  named
Isaac  was  a  perfect  example.  He  was  on  the  wrestling
team, and he was a really good athlete. He won most of his
matches, but he didn’t socialize with or hang out around all
the other jocks. He didn’t wear his letter jacket and seemed
to have no desire to be popular. He was kind of a loner. I
would  have  called  Isaac  an  athlete,  but  I  wouldn’t  have
categorized him as a “jock”.

Trevor, if I’d had to choose a label for him, would

have  been  a  geek,  but  even  that  classification  was  not
perfect.  The  extreme  geeks,  who  were  into  Star  Trek  and
computer  programming,  comprised  a  category  all  of  their
own.  They  were  the  ones  with  the  flood  pants  and  pocket
protectors  who  wore  thick  glasses  and  greased-down
comb-overs.  Trevor  was  nerdy  in  the  sense  that  he  was
smart and quiet. To be completely honest, I didn’t know that
much  about  him.  That  was  probably  why  I  felt  a  little

apprehensive about the tutoring sessions.

One thing that had always bugged me was the

stereotype that was associated with being a jock. People
thought all jocks were dumb. All brawn and no brains. When
I was in grade school and junior high, I was one of the best
students. I always got straight As, and I could carry on an
intelligent conversation. I’ve never been stupid.

I was pretty sure that Trevor would already have an

opinion of me. With him being such a brainiac he’d look
down on me and think I was a moron. It was embarrassing
to have another student—especially a kid my age who was
in my class—tutor me.

He’d better not come in here with an

attitude. If he does, I’ll have to set him straight. I don’t care
what my parents say—I’m not working with someone that
treats me like I’m stupid.

At 3:30, Father came in the living room carrying his

briefcase.

“I’m off to work,” he said. I nodded without pulling my

gaze from the TV. “Your tutor should be here in a half hour
or so, and your dad will be home around five. Lisa’s out for
the evening.”

“Where?” I asked. It kind of irked me that she was

allowed to go do whatever she wanted while I was stuck
here slaving away all day with my homework. I stretched
out, plopping my feet on the coffee table.

“She does her community service on Wednesday
nights down at the food pantry,” he answered.

“Oh.”

“Get your feet off the table, and be nice to Trevor.
Remember, he’s here to help you.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled.

About twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on the

door. At first I wasn’t sure that I’d heard it because it was so
quiet. Using the remote, I turned down the television’s
volume and got up. I peered through the peephole, and sure
enough, it was him. I opened the door and stared at him,
waiting for him to speak.

The kid was short, his head barely came up to my

shoulder, and he had spikey black hair and round glasses.
He pushed them up on his nose and shuffled his feet. He
was adjusting the overloaded backpack he had slung over
his shoulder.

After a beat, he spoke. “Um hi. Adam, I’m Trevor.”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” I said, crossing my arms
against my chest.

“And…um… I’m here to help you with your math.”

I stared directly into his eyes, squinting. I could

already sense that he was nervous. Intimidated. I was glad,
and I resisted the urge to smile. I had to play it cool, lay the
law down, and let him now who was boss. “Just so you
know,” I said, “I’m only doing this cause my folks are
making me. But I’m not stupid, and you better not talk to me
like I am.”

“Oh no,” Trevor said, shaking his head. “I would never
do that.” He laughed but I could tell it was more from
nervousness.

“What’s so funny?” I asked. I hadn’t moved from the
doorway and didn’t plan to invite him in right away.

“Uh, nothing. Sorry, but you have nothing to fear. I have
no intention of speaking to you condescendingly.”

“Huh?”

“I won’t talk down to you,” he clarified. “And I don’t

think you’re stupid. Some people are better at one subject
over the others. My subject happens to be math.”

“Right,” I said, nodding.

“And you’re good in sports,” he added.

I leaned against the door frame. “How do you know?”

“Everyone knows,” he said. “Just like everyone

knows you’re suspended from school, and it’s because you
punched out Derek Asshole Peterson.”

punched out Derek Asshole Peterson.”

I laughed, and the ice was broken. “Really? Everyone’s
talking about it, huh?”

“It’s about time someone gave it to that bully. He’s such
a jerk.”

I smiled at him, and he returned the gesture with his
own toothy grin. “Dude..um, can I come in? I really
gotta use the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. Here, let me take that backpack.”

He handed it to me without hesitation. It was heavier than
I’d expected. “Bathroom’s down the hall on the left. Jesus,
what’ve you got in this thing? Rocks?”

“Books,” he shouted back to me as he headed down

the hall. He must’ve really had to go, judging by how quickly
he dashed past me.

I set the backpack on one of the kitchen chairs and

waited for him at the table. When he didn’t immediately
come out I went back into the living room and tried to focus
on the TV. After nearly ten minutes, I was about to go knock
on the bathroom door when he emerged from the hallway.
He didn’t look good, his face white as a sheet.

“You all right, man?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and gave me sort of a half-

smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, but could I get some water?”

“You don’t look fine. You better come sit down,” I

said. I went to the kitchen and got him a bottled water from
the fridge. “It doesn’t look like you feel very well. Sure you
want to do this today?”

He was sitting in a living room recliner when I

returned with his water. I had already thought he was small,
but he looked absolutely tiny in the huge chair. He sat at the
very edge, leaning slightly forward, and his frame seemed
to take up less than half the width of the LazyBoy.

“Maybe you have the flu or something,” I suggested.

“Why don’t we reschedule? My dad will be home in a little
while, and he can drive you home.”

He shook his head. “No, I just get a little bit worked

up when I start a new job,” he said. “Nervous.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to think of that remark.

Maybe he’d been in the bathroom getting sick. I didn’t want
to know, because if there was a mess in there, I’d probably
have to clean it up.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he said, and then laughed

nervously.

“I don’t get why you’d be so nervous, though,” I said.

“Do you think I’m going to be that difficult a student?”

“Will you stop?” he said. “No, of course I don’t think

that. I’m sure you know what I mean. Don’t you get really
tense before a game? Freak out a little?”

“Maybe,” I said. But I didn’t go into the bathroom and

get sick. I didn’t pass out or anything. “You just seem

very

tense—more than what I’d call nervous.” I took a seat on the
sofa opposite him.

He turned his head to see what was on TV. It was

one  of  those  extreme  sports  shows.  All  the  participants
were  teens  who  did  these  amazing  stunts  with
skateboards, snowboards, Motorcross bikes, and basically
any  other  such  implement  of  death  that  moved  extremely
fast. Trevor didn’t say anything but just sat there staring with
rapt  interest.  I  didn’t  know  if  he’d  zoned  out  or  was  really
captivated by the daredevils.

After a couple minutes, he unscrewed the bottle cap

on his water and took a swig. He laughed when there was a
big wipeout on the screen.

“Cool,” I said.

As he turned to look at me, it looked almost like it

just occurred to him why he was here. “Oh, well I guess
maybe we should get started, huh?” I’d always thought the
kid was rather peculiar, and now I knew it for sure. Take
that back, he wasn’t peculiar. He was just weird.

Trevor stood up and glanced around. “Where’d you

put my backpack?” he asked.

“Kitchen,” I said. “Are we getting started now?”

“Yes. Turn off the television.” He stated it very

matter-of-factly,  as  if  he  were  in  charge  of  everything.  I
almost laughed, but I did as he said. I got up from the couch
and  led  him  out  to  the  kitchen,  taking  a  seat  at  the  table.
Trevor  remained  standing  and  began  pulling  books  out  of
his bag.

“We have some rules to go over first,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Rules,” he repeated, “you know like in baseball—the
standards by which you play the game.”

“ I

know

what rules are,” I snapped back. “And I

thought you weren’t going to talk down to me.”

He placed a hand on his hip and turned to look at

me. “Explaining rules is in no way condescending. No
matter what you do in life, you will have rules to follow.
School, sports, work…”

I rolled my eyes.

“And that kind of body language is not polite,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” This kid was getting very
irritating very fast.

“Eye-rolling. It’s rude.”

“Can we just skip the rules and get to the tutoring?” I
asked. “We’ve already wasted like a half hour.”

“Seventeen minutes,” he said, glancing at his watch.

“You’re right. We have wasted some time, but it’s to be
expected on our first session. Even in school, you never
plan on getting much done on the first day of class.”

I had a sinking feeling about how these tutoring

sessions were going to be. I’d thought the morning was bad
with Father, but this kid was ridiculous.

“Okay, rule number one: if you do not understand

something, you need to stop me and tell me you don’t
understand. If I ask if you’ve got it and you say you’ve got it
but you don’t really have it, then it’s not my fault that you
haven’t got it. Got it?”

“What?”

He shook his head and then stared at me with a look
of exasperation on his face. “Tell me if you don’t
understand something!”

“I don’t understand what you just said,” I said.

He cocked his head and glared at me, this time
placing both hands on his hips.

I started laughing. “Yes, I’ve got it.”

“Good,” he said. “Rule number two: you have to do

your homework. It is the only way that you will ever really
learn algebra. It’s all about repetition. That’s how it is with
all math.”

“I thought that was why you were here, to help me

with my homework,” I said.

“No, I’m not doing your homework for you.” He

sounded almost offended. “My job is to help you learn

how

to do your homework. The time we spend together will be in
addition to your homework.”

“You can’t be serious,” I protested. “Why don’t we

just go through the assignments together, and you can
explain the ones I don’t understand?”

Ignoring me, he pressed on. “Rule number three,” he

was using his fingers to count out the rules. “Don’t question
my methods. I’ve been tutoring for two years now, and I’ve
helped several kids go from failing to being A and B
students. I know what I’m doing.”

If he really knew what he was doing, why was he so

nervous about starting a new job, I wondered. I didn’t say
anything—just stared at him, waiting for the next

rule

. He

turned away from me and reached into his backpack,
pulling out a book. With a dramatic flair, he then spun
around and slammed the book down in front of me.

“Your bible,” he said.

I looked at the book, staring for a moment, and then
back up to him. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m dead serious,” Trevor said, crossing his arms.

I could feel my blood pressure rising, and I knew I

was about to blow. The book he’d placed in front of me was

Algebra for Dummies

, and I was pretty sure I had

just

explained to him that I was not stupid. “I. Am. Not. Using.
This. Book.” I said, rising from my seat and pushing the
chair back.

“Now wait,” he said, holding his palms up. “Just calm

down and sit.” I was ready to tell the little know-it-all to go
fuck himself and storm off to my room. “Please,

sit!

It’s just

a title. Using this workbook is not a concession that you are
gay…or I mean dumb! I mean, it doesn’t mean you’re
dumb.”

I felt the hinge to my bottom jaw suddenly come

loose. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Did you just
say ‘gay’?”

“Sorry.” His face was turning the color of my dad’s

cherry convertible. “I misspoke. I meant that the book is just
a  workbook.  I’m  sure  you’ve  seen  books  like  this  before.
They  have  them  for  everything  from  home  maintenance  to
gardening.  They’re  just  ‘how-to’  books  that  teach  the

basics. Before you can master algebra, you have to learn
the basics…”

“I already learned the basics!” I protested.

He shook his head. “I have all of your test scores,

Adam.  I  got  them  from  Mr.  Cleaver.  This  is  where  you’re
having  your  problem.  Algebra  is  a  progressive  form  of
mathematics.  You  have  to  completely  understand  the
basics  before  you  can  move  on  to  conquer  the  more
complex equations.”

If I was feeling embarrassed before, now I was

mortified. Trevor had seen all of my grades, and I knew they
were dismal. I also knew he was right. I hadn’t understood a
damn thing Mr. Cleaver was talking about in the beginning
but was able to fake it. As the semester progressed, it just
kept getting worse. The reason I wasn’t getting my
homework done wasn’t laziness. It was that I didn’t
understand the material. The best thing I could do was hope
for multiple choice questions and snow my way through it.

“Please sit back down,” Trevor said. “We’ll keep

your workbook here. No one at school will ever see it, and I
promise you I won’t tell.”

With reluctance, I slid back into my chair. “Why did

you say that about me being gay?”

He sighed as he snagged the strap on his backpack

and slung it to the floor. Plopping down in the chair, he then

turned to me. “It was a crazy thing to say. I’m the one who’s
stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s because of my dads, isn’t it?” I asked. “You think

that just because I have gay parents, that makes me gay.
Well, I’m

not

. And that’s exactly what I told Derek. I proved it

to him, and I’ll prove it to you too if I have to.” I felt my own
fists clenching.

Maintaining eye contact, he responded evenly. “First

of all, I wouldn’t care even if you were gay. I happen to be
gay myself. Big deal. Secondly, you do not need to threaten
me with violence. If that’s your attitude, you can find another
tutor.”

My reaction: stunned silence. I didn’t know what to

say.  I’d  never  had  someone  come  right  out  and  say,  “I’m
gay”  to  me.  Well,  not  another  real  person  my  own  age
anyway.  And  the  really  weird  thing  about  it  was  that  he
didn’t even act like it was a big secret or something he was
ashamed  of.  In  books  and  movies,  whenever  someone
“came out” it was this really big deal, but in Trevor’s case,
he acted like it was nothing. It was like saying he liked PS2
over XBOX or Corn Flakes over Wheaties.

Finally I spoke. “Oh.”

“So are you ready to get serious about learning
algebra now, or should I leave?”

“I’m ready,” I said, gulping.

And he taught me. It was amazing, and totally

unexpected, because he opened the workbook and started
explaining  things  to  me  that  I  knew  I  should  already  have
known.  He  did  it  in  a  way  that  sounded  so  logical.  It  was
different  than  what  I  remembered  from  Mr.  Cleaver  even
though it was the same basic material.

When he explained the rules of combining negative

and positive numbers, he drew a number line and showed
me in a way that I could visualize exactly what we were
doing, and then suddenly the rule made sense to me. I
wondered why Cleaver had never done that. He explained
variables, exponents, polynomials, quadratic equations and
a ton of other stuff within our first hour together. It was like
he taught me a whole new language.

Plus it was surprising to me how funny Trevor was. I

guess  if  you’d  have  asked  me  if  I  thought  it  possible  for
someone to be really excited by math, I’d have to say not
really.  Algebra  was  something  that  only  a  dork  or  a
complete  geek  would  really  get  jazzed  about.  Somehow
Trevor  made  it  exciting  though.  Maybe  it  was  that  his
enthusiasm  was  a  bit  infectious,  or  perhaps  it  simply  was
that his eyes were so big and brown and his smile was so
sincere.  He  reminded  me  of  a  little  kid  entering  a  candy
store for the first time.

Within that hour, we’d completed five sections of the

workbook, and I hadn’t once thought about stopping for a
break. It was Trevor who at last looked at his watch and
informed me our time was up.

“Oh, okay,” I said. “So…”

“So, I’m going to give you this list,” he said. “These

are all the homework assignments Mr. Cleaver gave you
since the beginning of the year. You need to start at the
beginning and re-do them.”

“No way!” Immediately I bristled.

“Yes way,” he said. His voice was calm and firm.

“They’ll be a piece of cake now that you understand the
material. What I want you to do is start at the beginning and
work through them. Stop when you get to a point where you
don’t understand.”

“This will take forever,” I protested.

“You’ll be surprised,” Trevor assured me. “The

problems you did tonight in your workbook were equivalent
to at least seven or eight of these assignments. With math,
the whole point of homework is to give you practice.
Remember what I said about repetition?”

I nodded.

“Think of it this way,” he went on. “You play on a

baseball team, but I bet—in fact, I

know

—that you spend a

heck of a lot more time practicing than you ever do playing,
right?”

Again I nodded.

“Homework is like practice. It’s your workout. The

tests that you have in school are like the actual baseball
games.”

That made sense. I threw thousands of practice

pitches every season but only a few hundred actual pitches
in a game. But if I didn’t have those practice sessions, I
would totally suck when I actually took the mound in a game.

I turned around when I heard the door open behind

me. It was Dad, and he was carrying a large pizza. Trevor
began picking up his books and stuffing them into his
backpack, appearing fidgety and nervous again.

“Hey guys,” Dad said. “How goes the tutoring?”

“Dad, this is Trevor,” I said as I stood up. Trevor

turned around to face my dad, attempting to push his
glasses back on his nose even though they already were
back about as far as they could go.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dad said, smiling.
“Thanks so much for helping Adam. Jeff and I both
really appreciate it.”

“My other dad,” I said.

“Yes, he’s the one I talked to yesterday,” Trevor said.
“Well, I guess I should be going.”

“You’re not hungry?” Dad asked. He’d stepped into the
kitchen and was placing the pizza in the center of the
table.

Trevor looked at me and then back and my dad. “Uh…
well, I can eat when I get home. Thank you anyway.”

“Don’t be silly,” Dad said, placing his hand on Trevor’s
shoulder. “Have some pizza and then I’ll drive you
home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, sir… really.”

“It’s no problem. Least I can do.”

“I only live about three miles from here,” Trevor said. “I
don’t mind walking.”

“Three miles?” I repeated back to him, shocked.
“You’re definitely not walking.”

Trevor laughed. “That’s not all that far, but I don’t want
you to make a special trip.”

“We’re going out anyway,” I said. “Dad and me are
going to the park for baseball practice after dinner.”

It was Dad and Trevor who did most of the talking

during dinner. Of course, dad could not resist telling Trevor
the story of how he and Father had met, back when Father
was his tutor. He went on to describe how he outed himself
in front of the whole school and proclaimed his love for
Father while everyone sat there watching, utterly shocked.

“That’s so romantic,” Trevor said, his eyes welling

with tears.

I shook my head.

Oh brother!

“Yeah, it really was. And to this day, Jeff still wears

my necklace.”

Trevor dabbed his eyes with his napkin. “I’m sorry,”

he said. “I don’t know why I get so sentimental, but that is
just one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m gonna go get my cleats and stuff,” I said,

jumping up from the table.

“Wear an old pair of pants,” Dad said. “You might be

sliding.”

“Okay,” I took off and headed up the stairs to my

room.  The  dinner  conversation  was  weird—awkward,  I
guess. It was strange to have my Dad telling some kid from
school  about  his  gay  high  school  romance.  I  was  sort  of
relieved  that  Trevor  had  told  me  that  he  was  gay  himself.
He hadn’t told Dad, though. Maybe Dad could sense it or
something. I suspected it must be some sort of a gay thing,

where they can identify each other without even having to
say it out loud.

When we got in the car, Trevor sat in the front with

Dad.  He  suggested  that  Trevor  tag  along  and  watch  us
practice, and Trevor was quick to agree. At first I was kind
of annoyed by the idea, but once we got to the park, which
was  actually  a  softball  field  where  they  usually  played
league games, Trevor took a seat in the dugout. I took the
mound and Dad was my catcher, and as I started throwing
pitches,  I  noticed  how  intently  Trevor  was  watching  my
every move.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to show off a bit. I threw

my fast ball, thinking for sure that would impress the kid. He
seemed unfazed. I threw a curve, a change-up, and a slider.
He didn’t react at all, just kept sitting there as if he were
bored. He probably knew nothing about sports and couldn’t
tell one pitch from another.

Dad stood up after I’d thrown about three dozen
pitches. He turned to the dugout. “Trevor, you want to
bat?” I almost laughed.

“Sure,” Trevor said, jumping off the bench and sprinting
out to the batter box.

“Uh, you need a bat,” Dad said.

“Oh right,” he dashed back over to the dugout and

retrieved one of the bats we’d brought with us. This was

going to be real interesting, I thought. I’d better go easy on
him.

Trevor stepped into the batter’s box and positioned

his  feet  appropriately.  At  least  he  knew  that  much.  He
tapped  the  edge  of  the  plate  with  the  end  of  his  bat  and
drew  the  bat  up  against  his  shoulder.  He  leaned  slightly
backwards  and  cocked  his  elbows  so  the  bat  was  in  a
perfect  swing  position.  Well  at  least  he’d  been  paying
attention when watching some of the games, I thought.

Dad squatted down into a catcher’s stance and held

up his glove. He looked at Trevor and nodded. I assumed
he was signaling me to go easy on him, but I already
planned to do so. I didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

I wound up and lobbed the ball, taking care not to

blow him away with a fast pitch. Trevor just stood there as
the pitch sailed by him and into Dad’s glove.

“You call that a pitch?” Trevor complained. “It was

high and outside.”

Dad shrugged and nodded as he threw the ball back

to me. “He’s right, it was high and outside. Ball one!”

What a little shit, I thought. Fine then. So much for

being nice—I’d show

him

. I wound up again, staring directly

at my target. I was going to give him a fast ball, right over
the center of the plate. I kicked up my foot behind me as I

released the ball and watched it fly at breakneck speed.

Trevor’s bat came down, lightening fast, connecting

with the ball and as it did so the sound was like a crack of
thunder. The ball soared high into the air, and I turned on
the mound staring up into the sky, following it. Back, back,
all the way to the warning track and over the fence.

“Home run!” Trevor shouted, jumping up and down.

“Yeah!” He tossed the bat behind him and began to run
around the bases as I turned to my dad and felt my jaw
come unhinged once more.

****

“I can’t believe Trevor could hit like that,” I said to Dad.
We were in the car, driving home.

“Yeah, that kind of blew me away too,” Dad laughed.
“What a great kid though.”

“You think so?”

“Sure. Don’t you?” he asked, glancing over to me.

“Yeah, I like him. He’s really smart.” I looked out the
window. “How’d you know about him?”

“Oh, I didn’t know him. Your Daddy got his number
from the counselor’s office at school. We’d never met
him.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said. “How’d you know he
was…ya know…gay?”

Dad didn’t respond right away, as if he was thinking.

“Well, that’s sort of hard to explain. I guess I didn’t know for
sure. You never do, because gay people are so diverse. I
mean look at Daddy and me. We’re very different from
each other.”

“You’re more like the man in the relationship,” I said.

“No, we’re both the men in the relationship.” Rarely

did  ever  speak  to  me  in  a  manner  where  he  sounded
annoyed,  but  he  did  this  time.  His  next  sentence  was
delivered  in  a  much  calmer  tone.  “Well,  actually,  I  can
understand  what  you’re  saying.  Yeah,  Daddy’s  always
assumed  many  of  the  roles  in  our  relationship  which  you
might  associate  with  the  female  partner  of  a  heterosexual
relationship—like a wife.”

“You know I don’t call him Daddy anymore,” I said.

He reached over and placed his hand on my knee. “I

know, son. But…well, that says more about how I view you
than it does about him. I just can’t seem to get over the fact
that you’re growing up. Sometimes I still think of you as my
little boy.”

“Well, I’m not little anymore.”

“I know. I’ll try to remember to refer to him as

‘Father’.”

I turned to look at him. “I’m sorry I got into trouble,” I

said. “I wish you didn’t have to come home from your job
and everything.”

He cocked his head to the right and raised his

eyebrows. “I’m not. Well, I mean I’m not sorry about coming
home, but sure, I wish you hadn’t gotten in trouble. I needed
a vacation though. I never use up all my vacation time.”

“So you just sensed it about Trevor then?”

“Yeah. It’s more like a feeling. Unspoken clues you

pick up on or something. Some people call it gaydar. Then
again, I’ve known a lot of gay people who don’t seem to
have any gaydar, and I’ve known straight people who have
a lot of it. Usually women.”

“Maybe cause they’re so… what’s the word?”

“Emotional.”

“Yeah … like Father.”

Dad laughed. “You might be making a joke, but that’s
not far from the truth. He does have the best gaydar
I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“And I do think it has something to do with emotions.

People who are more sensitive tend to be more observant
of others. They care more about what other people are
thinking, and they have more empathy.”

He was right. That described Father to a tee. He’d

always been the type of person who cried at sad movies.
He read romance novels and watched Oprah. When Lisa
and I were little, he was the one who mainly took care of us
—mothered us, sort of. Every year on my birthday he made
me a huge cake which he decorated himself. Last year it
was a baseball theme.

When Lisa said that I used to always be closer to

Father,  she  was  right  too.  It  had  only  been  since  I  started
middle  school  that  I  began  to  drift  from  him.  I  didn’t  want
him  fussing  over  me  so  much.  It  was  embarrassing,  and  I
was starting to figure out that other dads weren’t like that.

“Do you think Trevor is like Father?” I asked.

A broad smile crossed his face as he nodded. “In

some ways, yes. He is a

lot

like your da- father. He has

kind of a nerdiness about him.”

“That’s what I told you last night.”

“And nerdy is fine,” Dad said. “Isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“But you know, your father couldn’t hit a home run if his

life depended on it. I doubt he could even bunt.”

I cracked up. “I’m trying to picture father playing any
sports.”

“And we did come out in high school…eventually. But it
wasn’t easy. Trevor seems very comfortable with who
he is.”

“Yeah, maybe too comfortable.”

“For who? You?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care what he is. I just don’t want
people thinking things about me.”

“Adam,” Dad said as he pulled into the driveway and

turned off the ignition, “be who you are. No matter what, we
love with all our hearts.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Hey, why

do you think he wouldn’t let us drive him home? Do you
think he really lived close to the park, or do you think he
didn’t want us to see his house?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess people have a

right to privacy. Maybe when he gets more comfortable with
us, he’ll let us know.”

“Thanks for everything, Dad.”

He flicked the bill of my baseball cap. “I love you,

Chapter Three

Alone in my room, I picked up the remote and turned

off the television. There was nothing on worth watching.
That show Deal or No Deal was so lame. I couldn’t believe
how totally stupid most of the contestants were. They’d turn
down an offer for a quarter million dollars for a twenty-five
percent chance at a million and end up with a hundred
bucks. Maybe it was just that some people were gamblers.
Risk takers.

I stretched out on the bed and used the same

remote to power on the stereo. The music blasted, but for
just a second. I hoped my dads hadn’t heard, as I turned it
down. I was wearing my baseball pants still. They were from
my old uniform, from when I was on the JV team. I was glad
I’d chosen to wear them. It was kind of weird, but being in
uniform sort of helped me get my head in the game.

It was also strange the way that kid kept looking at

me. It was like he was examining me, sizing me up. Maybe I
wouldn’t have thought anything of it had he not told me he
was gay. It didn’t really matter. I’d already made it clear to
him that I wasn’t. If he couldn’t keep from staring at me all
the time, that was his problem, not mine.

I supposed it was kind of conceited of me to

consider myself good looking. Really, it was more that I was
concerned  about  my  looks.  Who  doesn’t  want  to  be
attractive?  I  hopped  off  the  bed  and  stepped  over  to  the
mirror.  Pulling  off  my  jersey,  I  tossed  it  on  the  desk  chair
and  stood  there  shirtless,  looking  at  myself.  I  had  only
started working out last year. Usually I did it at school, but
sometimes I used my dad’s equipment in the basement. As
I looked at my smooth chest and biceps, I had an urge to go
pump some iron. I’d wait til morning cause I knew everyone
was already in bed.

I wondered what that Trevor kid would think of me if

he saw me now without my shirt on. I bet he’d like it. He’d
probably get all red-faced and nervous like he had when he
first arrived for the tutoring session. I smiled as I
remembered it because it was kind of comical. He was sort
of cute, and it made me feel like maybe he was disarmed
by my mere presence. He was all fidgety and tongue-tied.

I flexed my right arm and used my left hand to feel

my bicep. Yeah, I bet he’d like that too.

When I realized where my thoughts had taken me, I

turned back around and flopped onto the bed. What was I
thinking? Why would I care what some nerdy gay kid
thought of my muscles? What was even more troubling was
the tightness I felt in my jock strap. I was getting turned on,
but I didn’t know exactly why. Was it from looking at myself
in the mirror or from thinking of Trevor? I wasn’t exactly

comfortable with either one of those possibilities.

I reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer

of  my  bedside  stand,  grabbing  the  Sports  Illustrated
Swimsuit  Edition  I’d  stashed  there.  Leafing  through  the
pages,  I  fumbled  with  the  magazine  until  I  found  what  I
thought  was  the  most  attractive  model.  A  long-legged
blonde who was stretched out on a deck chair, lying by the
pool.  She  had  so  much  cleavage  that  it  was  almost
pointless to even be wearing the bikini top.

I undid the laces of my pants and reached inside,

grabbing  hold  of  myself.  It  felt  so  hot,  and  as  I  began  to
stroke  myself,  I  could  feel  it  throbbing  in  my  hand.  As  I
continued,  my  heart  rate  quickened.  I  got  more  and  more
excited,  and  my  movements  got  faster.  I  forced  myself  to
continue  staring  at  the  picture.  I  didn’t  care  about  Trevor
and the fact that he was gay. It didn’t matter to me that he
stared at me all googly-eyed and obviously was crushing on
me. I just kept looking at the picture, pumping myself faster
and faster.

Just before I reached the point of no return, I lay

back against my pillow and closed my eyes. I no longer saw
the sexy swimsuit model, but instead a clear mental picture
of Trevor smiling at me with that look of fascination and …
and … what was it? Lust! With that look of pure lust in his
eyes!

****

I was completing my last set of bench presses when

I heard noise upstairs. It was probably Father milling about
in the kitchen. He’d likely be surprised to discover that I was
up before him. I was sweating profusely and picked up the
towel  that  I’d  brought  downstairs  with  me,  mopping  at  my
brow  and  exhaling. A  complete  workout  was  always  both
exhilarating and exhausting, but it was also the perfect way
to  start  the  day.  One  thing  coach  had  taught  us  was  that
exercise  was  energizing.  Even  though  you  felt  tired  and
sore  afterward,  the  net  result  was  that  it  gave  you  more
energy.

Probably every teenage guy thinks of working out as

a means of improving your appearance. I couldn’t deny that
this was my primary motivation, but the side effects were
also very beneficial. My suspension had thus far felt a lot
like a prison sentence to me, and it seemed like there was
very little in my life that I had any control over. Pumping iron
gave me the feeling that I was the one who was in absolute
control of my body. It also made it easier for me to face my
second day of solitary confinement.

I bounded the steps and strode into the kitchen,

breezing past father who was in the process of pouring
water into the coffee maker. I headed straight for the fridge
and grabbed the half-gallon orange juice from the top shelf.

“Morning,” he said. “Well you’re up and at ’em early

today.” I nodded to him without speaking, still winded. As I

twisted the top off the orange juice carton he said, “Use a
glass.” He opened the cupboard above his head and
handed me one.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Well, I have a busy day today. I’ve got meetings at

the college starting at nine, so you’re going to be on your
own. I’ll get you started on your homework and go over the
English assignments with you. After that, you’ll be on your
own.”

Wow, that was music to

ears. “No problem,” I

said, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. “Dad gonna be home
today?”

“He’s decided to work a half-day at the office, and

then he and Ray are going golfing in the afternoon.” He got
out a coffee cup from the cupboard and set it on the
counter.

“Hm, I thought he said he was taking vacation.”

“Oh, you know your dad. He can’t stay away from his

job. Just be thankful that he’s here at all. He could still be in
Houston.”

I downed the entire glass of orange juice in one

drink and placed the empty glass in the sink. “True,” I said,
“but I’ll be fine here by myself. You should see all the extra
homework Trevor gave me last night. That’s enough to

keep me busy most of the day.”

“Do you think he’s going to help? How’d your first
session go?”

I shrugged, trying to act indifferent. “It went all right.
He’s kind of different…”

“What do you mean?” Father asked.

“He’s pretty bossy, and he has a list of rules.”

He chuckled as he retrieved a carton of half-and-half

from the refrigerator. “Well now I’m anxious to meet him.
Sounds like my kind of tutor.”

“Oh believe me, you two would hit it off.”

He turned around and stared directly in my eye,
placing a hand on his hips. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“Nothing,” I said as innocently as possible. “Just, I think
you’d have a lot in common.”

“You saying I’m bossy?” He placed his hand on my
shoulder.

“You? Nah … no more than a drill sergeant. I’m gonna
jump in the shower.”

I turned from him and dashed across the room and up

the stairs before he could respond.

****

It was 3:15 when I finished the last equation. I got my

English homework done early and then spent the entire day
working on algebra. I was over half-way through the
homework assignments that I had to re-do, and I completed
six chapters of the “Dummies” workbook. I couldn’t wait to
report my progress to Trevor.

I stood up and stretched, then rushed upstairs to

check my appearance in the mirror.

Check my

appearance?

I was doing it again—worrying about what

that  kid  thought  of  me.  There  was  absolutely  no  reason  I
should  care  what  his  opinion  was.  I  didn’t  really,  but  he’d
confessed to me the day before he was gay. Then last night
he  was  staring  at  me  in  a  way  that  wasn’t  exactly  normal.
This  whole  thing  could  work  to  my  advantage.  If  he  kept
crushing  on  me  like  that,  it  would  definitely  give  me  the
upper  hand.  This  was  my  rationalization  anyway,  as  I
stripped off my tee shirt and pulled a tight-fitting sleeveless
tank  top  over  my  head.  I  ran  a  brush  through  my  hair  and
sprayed on a shot of cologne then headed back downstairs
where  I  sprawled  out  on  the  sofa  and  used  the  remote  to
start surfing channels.

It seemed like hours later, but it was only ten minutes.
The doorbell rang and I called out for him to come in.

“Hello?” Trevor called out as he entered the foyer.

“Hey, I’m in here,” I said. I heard him as he made his
way down the hall and stepped into the living room.

“Ah, being lazy today?” he said, glancing over to me.
“Ready to get to work?”

“Yeah, sure… in a minute.” I tried to sound casual.

He barely looked at me then headed straight for the

kitchen  where  I  heard  him  deposit  his  backpack  on  the
chair.  It  was  a  little  bit  disappointing  the  way  he  barged
right in and walked past me without even looking at what I
was  wearing.  Maybe  if  I  waited  a  few  minutes  he’d  come
back to the living room and sit down.

Trevor stepped over to the archway that led into the

living room and peered down at me. “Come on,” he said,
“let’s get started.”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my feet off the

footstool, dragging myself up from the couch. I let out a
combination moan-sigh as I did so.

“How’d you do on your homework?” he asked.

I held my hands out and shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

“What do you mean, ‘All right’? How much did you get
done?”

I struggled to maintain my poker face. “A little.”

He nodded and furrowed his brow slightly. “Okay, well
good. That’s a start. Show me what you got done.”

Trying to look as bored and disinterested as

possible, I lumbered over to the table and opened my
notebook. “Let me see here,” I said. “Here’s chapter one.” I
handed him the first assignment.

He looked it over and placed it on the table. “Well

Adam, that’s good. I’m proud of you, but chapter one was
only six questions. And let’s be honest, they were pretty
easy. I’d hoped you would be able to get a little bit more
than that…”

“You mean like chapters two through nine?” I

shouted, pulling out a stack of pages from my notebook.
“Ta-dah!” I proclaimed and slammed them down on the
table.

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Read em and weep… fourteen chapters. I’m over
halfway to the goal, and in just one day.”

“More like, ‘read em and shout for joy’,” he said,
smiling broadly. “Adam, this is crazy! I don’t think you
even need a tutor.”

The smile on my face quickly faded. “No… well, I

wouldn’t have been able to do it if you hadn’t explained
things to me. Like you said last night—the basics and stuff.”

Trevor shook his head as he picked up the pages

and  began  leafing  through  them.  “Oh,  don’t  worry.  I  won’t
abandon  you.”  He  wasn’t  looking  up  at  me  as  he  spoke.
“I’m  just  saying,  you’re  doing  really  well,  and  it  looks  like
you’re doing most of the problems correctly. I’ll have to look
these over. But wow, you leaped ahead and took on some
of the chapters we hadn’t even gotten to yet.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I even did them right.

Eventually I had to stop.”

He grabbed his backpack from the chair and placed

it on the floor, then sat down. Pushing up his glasses he
started examining the pages. “So far, so good,” he said as
he flipped each page over, moving on from one to the next.
“Ah here.” He picked up a red pen and circled one of the
answers. “We’ll go over this one. Common mistake.”

I sat down in the chair next to him as he continued to

examine my work.

“So out of nine chapters worth of assignments, it

looks like you only made two mistakes. That’s more than a
99%. Very impressive.” He finally set the pages down and
looked up at me, smiling. “What’s that smell?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, and at first I had no idea what he
was talking about.

“You wearing perfume or something?”

“I took a shower earlier,” I said.

“Oh… anyway, it’s nice. So, let’s go over the ones

you got wrong and then we’ll review the new chapters you
covered on your own. That won’t take long, and I’m sure
we’ll have time to cover some new material so you can
proceed with the assignments.”

At this point I couldn’t help smiling. He slid his chair

a little closer to me and picked up my pencil from the table,
handing it to me. “Okay, on this one, you forgot one of the
basics. Whenever you subtract negative numbers from
positive numbers, you must add the opposite.”

For the next hour we worked together. He moved a

little more quickly through the new material than he had the
first night, but he explained that things would get a lot more
complex from this point forward. Trevor suggested that I
only do a couple chapters at a time.

“After you are caught up with class, then we’ll only

need to meet one or two times a week,” he said. “Okay, you
have your assignments for tomorrow. Just do the next two
chapters. If you really want to go beyond that, do so in the
workbook, but not in the assignments.”

“Why’s it matter?” I asked. “If I understand it and want
to do more…”

“What’d I tell you yesterday?” he asked. “Remember
my rules?”

“I’m following your rules,” I countered. “I did all the
homework just like you said… and then some.”

“But you’re questioning my methods.” He paused for a
moment, then continued. “You obviously work out,
right?”

I nodded and sat up straight in my chair, resisting the
urge to flex for him. Suddenly I was glad I’d worn the
tank top.

“Well, has your coach or fitness instructor or anyone
ever talked to you about your workout schedule? How
often do you do it?”

“Um, yeah. I’m supposed to work out every other

day, or three times a week. I alternate my routine so I focus
on different muscle groups.”

“Exactly. Legs one day, arms the next, etcetera. The

point is, you follow the schedule recommended by your
coach because you know that he’s the expert.”

“For the most part, but sometimes I push myself,” I

confessed. “Sometimes I work out four or five times a
week.”

Trevor frowned. “Well …”

“Let me ask you this,” I interrupted. “What if you were

in my shoes? If you had a class where you understood the
material and wanted to advance, would you want the
teacher to hold you back?”

“That’s different,” he said.

My mouth dropped open. “How can you say it’s

different? It’s exactly the same.”

“No it’s not,” he argued. “You are

behind

in this

class, not ahead. This is not a matter of advancement. My
job is to make sure you understand all the material and get
you caught up. If you fly through the material without fully
comprehending it, you’ll be no better off than you were to
begin with.”

He was starting to piss me off. I pushed back my

chair and stood up, then stomped over to the refrigerator to
get a bottle of water. “No, I think the real issue is that you
are a control freak. You should be happy that you have a
student who is doing the assignments and who’s anxious to
learn more. You should be fucking overjoyed that I got so
much done! But no … you just want to bitch at me!”

He stood up and glared at me. “I don’t have to sit

here and be sworn at!”

“You know I’m right! And you know what? It’s

bullshit!” I stepped toward him, pointing my water bottle at

him. “You’re just a smart mouthed little know-it-all, and you
think I’m some big dumb jock that can’t handle my
assignments!”

“Don’t shout at me!” he shouted.

“Then don’t treat me that way!”

“Okay!”

We were standing face to face, inches apart, and as

I looked down at him I felt the adrenaline pumping through
my veins. He had me so infuriated. His cockiness and over-
confidence  were  so  fucking  irritating.  He  just  stood  there,
glaring  at  me  and  not  backing  down  for  one  second.  I
slammed the water bottle on the table and grabbed hold of
his shoulders, pulling him into myself as I forced my mouth
against  his  and  planted  a  searing  kiss  onto  his  arrogant
lips.

Startled and sputtering, he pulled back from me, his

eyes  wide  with  astonishment.  “Wha—?”  For  once,  he
couldn’t  speak.  He  backed  away  from  me,  nearly  tripping
over  the  chair  behind  him.  As  if  in  a  daze,  he  fumbled
around,  grasping  for  his  backpack.  He  picked  it  up,  still
baffled,  and  began  backing  down  the  hallway  toward  the
front door.

“Wait,” I said.

“Do however many assignments you want,” he said.

Chapter Four

The remainder of the evening was uneventful, which

made it all the more excruciating. Dad, Father, and Lisa all
were home and we had dinner together, but I couldn’t say
anything  to  any  of  them  about  what  had  happened  with
Trevor.  For  one  thing,  I  didn’t  really  understand  it  myself.
The guy was annoying. In some ways he really did remind
me of Father. If there was one thing that bugged me about
Father,  it  was  that  just  being  around  him  was  a  constant
reminder that he was smart and everyone else was not.

Father wasn’t the type of person who went around

acting as if he was proud of his intelligence. He wasn’t like
one of those MENSA members who had to tell everybody
he was a genius, but I think that because he held a position
of  authority  over  me  it  made  me  wish  sometimes  that  I
could prove him wrong. I’m not even sure when I started to
feel  that  way.  Maybe  it  was  simply  a  part  of  being  a
teenager.  I  mean,  who  likes  being  told  what  to  do  all  the
time?

It was a very odd combination of feelings. If anyone

ever said anything mean about my Father, I’d have kicked
their ass. No lie. I was very protective of him. On the other
hand, there were a lot of times when he embarrassed me. It

seemed like the times he wanted to hover over me and be
in my face were the exact moments that I wished he’d just
go away. I wasn’t ashamed of having gay dads, but it was
mortifying to me when he acted more like he was my
mother.

When Dad said that father had taken on many of the

roles  which  are  traditionally  assumed  by  a  wife,  he  was
spot on. When Lisa and I were little, it was Father who ran
the  household.  He  did  the  grocery  shopping,  meal
preparation, laundry, scheduling of all the appointments. He
packed  all  the  lunches  and  planned  for  all  the  holidays.
That’s  why  he  took  the  job  at  the  college.  Before  that,  he
was  a  high  school  teacher,  but  when  he  took  the  job
teaching three nights a week, it gave him a lot more time at
home.

Dad was different than Father. Dad was the one

who played with us. He taught me to love sports. When we
were small, he got right down on the floor and played board
games. Chutes and Ladders. Monopoly. Operation. While
Father and Lisa fussed about the house and worried over
place settings and window treatments, Dad and I were out
cannon-balling each other in the pool. Or we were shooting
hoops or playing catch.

Yet whenever I fell and skinned my knee or was

afraid of a ghost hiding under the bed—whenever I was
sick or hungry or insecure—it was Father that I ran to.
Father knew all the correct sizes of clothes to buy. He knew

all my favorite foods. He picked up after me and then
bitched about it afterwards. He made sure I got up on time
every morning and scolded me when I was lazy. He was the
rule maker and enforcer, and Dad was basically there for
backup.

Trevor seemed like a mini-version of Father. He had

that same nasally quality to his voice. I knew he was smart--
scary smart--and I wished I could be more like that. I didn’t
need him to remind me that he was more intelligent than
me, but his mere presence was like a neon sign that said
YOU’RE A DUMB JOCK. It shouldn’t have mattered to me
what he thought of me, but really it did. I didn’t want him to
view me that way. I’d never been one of those kids who
struggled in school. I always got good grades. Oh my God, I
had to. If not, Father would have killed me.

But as annoying as Trevor was, there was just

something about him that got to me. His eyes lit up when he
was  excited,  and  it  somehow  made  my  heart  swell  every
time. He was actually a very considerate person. When he
came over for the first time, he tried to go out of his way to
put me at ease by reminding me that I had talents he didn’t
possess. And  then  come  to  find  out,  he  was  being  overly
modest.  He  clearly  did  have  some  athletic  ability  –either
that, or he was one lucky bastard when he hit that home run.

What did it mean? The kiss. It wasn’t something I

planned. It just happened—something took over, and I
couldn’t stop myself. Maybe it was the way he was so

defiant, telling me to quit shouting at him. Maybe it was that
look of sheer determination on his face. His cute face with
the dimples and the dark brown eyes.

So was I gay? Maybe Derek had been right. Maybe

the  fact  that  I  had  gay  parents  was  something  that  had
rubbed  off  on  me.  One  time  I  overheard  Father  talking  to
one of his friends, and he said that something like 90% of
kids raised by gay parents did not themselves turn out to be
gay.  I  was  pretty  sure  that  I  was  in  that  majority…well  up
until the kiss.

After dinner Lisa and I took a dip in the pool, but I

just  wasn’t  in  the  mood.  I  ended  up  going  to  my  room  to
play video games. I texted Christian to see if he wanted to
come over Friday after school. We could hang out, use the
pool  or  shoot  some  hoops.  I  asked  him  to  bring  his
magazines.  He’s  the  one  who  gave  me  the  Sports
Illustrated, but he had a lot better ones than that. He texted
back  and  sent  me  a  picture.  It  was  a  chick  posing
seductively, naked and covering her nipples with the tips of
her fingers.

THANKS

MAN!

HOT

PIC!

SEE

YOU

TOMORROW…NOW I GOT TO GO FIND SOME
INTERNET PORN

His response: HAVE FUN DUDE

I tossed the phone on the dresser and turned off the

television. As I flopped down on my bed, I dozed off to
sleep, not thinking of the hot chick with big tits but instead
of a spikey haired nerd boy with really soft lips.

****

On Friday morning I realized that I was facing my last

full  day  of  confinement,  and  I  should  have  felt  relief  and
jubilation.  The  next  day,  Saturday,  would  be  my  big  game
day, and then Monday I’d be back in school and life would
return  to  normal.  Of  course  I  knew  I  was  going  to  have  to
face everyone again, including Derek. And I was going to
have  the  additional  homework  in  English  and  algebra  as
well as the unpleasant responsibility of cleaning the locker
room,  not  to  mention  the  requirement  that  I  had  to  start
seeing  an  anger-management  counselor.  Still,  I  would  no
longer be holed up in the house and would again be able to
hang  out  with  my  friends.  Things  would  certainly  return  to
normal,  and  all  of  this  confusion  surrounding  Trevor  would
go away.

Father was home all day Friday, but he was quiet. I

put my nose to the grindstone and worked as hard as ever
on my assignments. He didn’t once have to reprimand me
for daydreaming or dawdling. I was determined to get as
much done as possible, and by remaining focused on my
homework, I was able to keep myself from obsessing over
Trevor.

Around eleven o’clock I went downstairs and did a

light workout. I’d pushed myself hard the day before, so I
simply did my cardiovascular exercises—ran the treadmill,
did my leg presses, sit-ups, and push-ups—then headed
upstairs for a shower. When I was done, I joined Father in
the kitchen for lunch.

“I’m very proud of you,” he said. His voice was calm

and conveyed sincerity as he looked me in the eye. “You
got a lot of work done this week. Way more than I ever
expected.”

“Thanks,” I said. I took a bite of my sandwich as I

looked down at my algebra handbook. I smiled at the title.
Really it was kind of funny:

Algebra for Dummies

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“This book,” I said. “I was so pissed when Trevor gave
it to me.” I held it up for him to see.

“Ah. Well, it’s just a title. You do realize there is nothing
about you that is dumb. You’re a very bright young
man.”

I shrugged and looked him in the eye. “I don’t know.

Wait ’til you meet Trevor. He’s really smart, and just being
around him makes me feel kind of like a moron.”

“And I hear he can hit home runs,” Father said.

“That was so crazy,” I said, smiling. “So I guess he’s

a genius

and

an athlete.”

Father looked at me with raised eyebrows. “One

home run does not make an athlete,” he said. “Have you
considered that he may have been watching you?”

“He

was

watching me,” I said, “but what’s that have

to do with it?”

“Maybe he was studying how you pitched. He knew

what to expect from you, and he played you. He got you to
give him the pitch he wanted, and then he knocked it out of
the park.”

Father was exactly right. That was precisely what

had happened. “Still, I thought he was just like all the other
nerds. I wasn’t expecting it.”

He laughed. “I haven’t met Trevor, and I honestly

have  no  idea  what  he  is  like,  but  I’m  guessing  that  he
probably doesn’t have any real desire to compete with you
athletically. It sounds like he is pretty confident in his role as
your  tutor.  And  that  job  is  to  help  you  achieve  your
academic  goals.  Making  you  feel  stupid  or  inferior  is  not
the objective, and that would be entirely counterproductive.”

“It’s not really about him or anything he’s doing,” I said.
“It’s about me.”

“Your insecurity,” he suggested.

“Maybe.”

“Well there is no logical reason for you to be

insecure,  Adam.  You  already  know  that  you’re  smart.
You’ve always gotten fantastic grades. You are very popular
with a lot of friends. You’re good looking. Cripes, the girls
have  already  started  calling  you.  Your  phone  is  going  off
constantly. You do well in sports, and you’re the star pitcher
for  your  baseball  team.  So  you  tell  me,  why  do  you  allow
yourself  to  let  a  guy  like  Trevor  make  you  feel  bad  about
yourself?”

This time I laughed, then shook my head. “Nah, it’s

not  like  that.  I  don’t  think  he  makes  me  feel  bad  about
myself.  If  anything,  he  makes  me  feel  like  I  want  to  be
better.  I  know  I’m  not  stupid,  but  I  don’t  want

him

to think

that I am.”

“Oh, I see,” he said. “And why would it matter if he
thought something like that?”

“Maybe cause I like him. He’s kind of cool.”

“If he’s so cool, why would he say something that
makes you feel dumb?”

“He doesn’t! It’s not like that at all. It’s the opposite.

He’s always telling me I’m

not

dumb.”

Father shook his head as if exasperated. “You

realize you’re contradicting yourself? Why don’t you just

relax and be yourself? If Trevor is so cool, he’s going to like
you for who you are. If not, then he’s not worth the effort.”

I guessed he was right. It made sense. I needed to

stop worrying about impressing Trevor and just relax. How
was I going to do that now, though? I was terrified of what
would happen when he showed up after school. Well, if he
even showed up at all.

Father left the house around three o’clock and I had

to just wait there for the next forty-five minutes for Trevor to
arrive. I kept looking at the clock while surfing the channels.
When at last the doorbell rang, I leapt up from the couch
and rushed down the hallway to let him in. I expected him to
launch into me and lecture me for what happened the day
before, but he was surprisingly quiet.

He smiled at me and spoke in a hushed tone. “You

ready to get started?”

Without a word about the argument or the kiss, he

acted as if the incident never happened. When I handed
him my assignments, he looked them over carefully and
placed them on the table. “Very good,” he said.

For the entire hour he sat there, speaking only when

necessary,  and  his  comments  were  restricted  to  the
curriculum. A  couple  times  our  arms  rubbed  against  each
other, but he quickly pulled away from me. Even his posture
was  submissive.  He  sat  there  with  his  shoulders  hunched

over and his knees pressed tightly together.

“Is everything okay?” I finally asked. I knew we only

had a few minutes left.

“Sure,” he said. “Would it be okay for me to get a

drink of water?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, jumping up from my seat. “I’ll

get you one.” I went over to the refrigerator and got us each
a bottle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Okay,” he said, pushing his glasses back onto his

nose.

“Are you mad at me?”

He looked down at his lap, and his face became

flushed. The redness in his cheeks was endearing, but all of
a sudden I felt kind of guilty for embarrassing him and had
an urge to apologize. “No,” he responded, his voice barely
a whisper.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said.

In spite of himself, he was grinning. Without looking

up at me, he asked, “which part?”

“The fight. I’m sorry for what I said to you—about you

being a know-it-all and a control freak. When I was doing
the assignments today, I realized you were right. I shouldn’t
get ahead of myself. I should trust you and do whatever you

get ahead of myself. I should trust you and do whatever you
say because you know what…”

“No, you were right,” he interrupted me. “There’s no

reason for you to hold yourself back. If you understand the
material, you should go for it. I

a know-it-all sometimes,

and I’m definitely a control freak.”

I stepped over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“No you’re not. I feel like such a jerk for saying that.”

At last he looked up at me. “Well, it’s true. I was a little
worried when I saw how fast you were flying through
the workbook.”

“Because you knew I wasn’t really understanding it?” I
stepped around him and sat down in my chair.

“No,” he shook his head. “That wasn’t it. I knew you

understood the assignments. I just didn’t want you to get
caught up right away because…”

“What?” I said.

“Because I didn’t want it to end. Once you’re caught
up, you won’t need me anymore and I’ll no longer be
your tutor.”

“Really?” I said. I couldn’t help smiling and suddenly felt
the urge to laugh right out loud.

He nodded.

“Why would I stop being your friend, though, just
because you were no longer my tutor?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m a skinny geek and
an avowed homosexual.”

This time I really did laugh out loud. “Dude, you’re not
that skinny,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I mean, I like how you are. You have a nice body—

slender. And I like your smile and your big brown eyes.
And… and your lips.” He blinked as I leaned into him, but
he didn’t stop looking into my eyes. I reached up with one
hand and placed it against his cheek as our lips connected
again. This time it was gentle, and he responded by leaning
into me and placing his hand against my chest.

“I really like skinny geeks who are avowed

homosexuals,” I whispered.

“Really?” he said.

We both were startled by the sound of the doorbell. I

pulled away from him and looked up at the wall clock. “Oh,
that’s probably Christian,” I said. “You know Christian
Peters? He’s my best friend, and he’s coming over to use
the pool.”

“Uh, yeah,” Trevor was befuddled, obviously

“Uh, yeah,” Trevor was befuddled, obviously
overwhelmed by what had just happened.

The doorbell rang again. “I’m sorry,” I said, my hand
still on Trevor’s shoulder, “I have to let him in.”

“I should be going,” he said, as he began gathering up
his books.

“No! Please don’t.” I was halfway across the room

on my way to the foyer. “Stay. You can go swimming with
us.” I didn’t wait for his answer but turned to dash down the
hall.

“My man!” Christian said, holding up his hand for a

high five. He wasn’t alone. He had his girlfriend Katie with
him and another guy named Brian who was also on the
baseball team.

I high fived him and ushered them inside. “My last

day of prison!”

“Dude, so much has happened at school since you

been gone,” Christian gushed. “You missed a big fight
yesterday. Kevin Carter and John Matthews. Kevin kicked
his ass.”

“Wow… oh really?” I had turned around, barely

listening, worried that I had to get back to Trevor.

“And Johnson’s been a real asshole.” I knew he was

talking about our physical science teacher. Mr. Johnson

was the strictest. “He gave Jeremy and two other kids
detention just because they walked through the door as the
bell was ringing. Said they were supposed to be in their
seats before it rang.”

“Man, that sucks,” I said. “Hey, guys, come on in. I’m

still doing my homework, but we’re almost done.”

“We?” Christian said. As they stepped out of the

foyer and into the kitchen I motioned toward Trevor.

“Yeah. You guys know Trevor, don’t you? He’s

helping me with my algebra.” Trevor nodded to them. He
had that serious, contemplative look on his face again. I
could tell he was uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Christian said.

“Well, I should get going anyway,” Trevor said.

“Don’t leave on our account,” Christian said. “We’ll just
go hang out at the pool til you’re done.”

“We’re done,” I said, “and Trevor’s joining us. You like
to swim, don’t you?”

“Uh…” Trevor stuttered. “I don’t have a suit or
anything.”

“I have lots of suits. Why don’t you guys get

changed? There’s a big bathroom upstairs and another
one on the other side of the kitchen.”

one on the other side of the kitchen.”

“I’ll use this one down here,” Katie said.

“Come on, Bri,” Christian said, and the two guys
headed upstairs.

I turned to Trevor. “Please stay,” I said, my voice a
stage whisper.

Trevor laughed nervously. “I don’t know. I doubt those
guys really want me joining the party.”

“

want you to stay,” I said. “Please.” I placed my

hands on both his shoulders.

“Okay,” he said. “For a little bit.”

“Come on! Let’s go get changed.” I led him upstairs

to my room. Once inside, I closed the door behind me.
“You’re little,” I surmised, “but we probably wear close to the
same waist size.”

“Twenty-eight,” he said.

I nodded. “Pretty close. I’m thirty. I got some shorts for
you. They’re really cool.”

I pulled out a pair of boarder shorts from my dresser
and handed them to him. “They look kind of big,” he
complained.

“Wait!” I said. “I just remembered something.” There

was a box in the top of my closet that had some stuff I no
longer wore. I’d grown a bit since junior high, and if I was
lucky there’d be shorts in the pile. “Here,” I said, as I located
a smaller pair.

“Oh…okay, these might work,” he said, smiling.

“Um… where should I go to…uh… to change?”

“Hm, I’ll turn my back, and you can change right

here,” I said. I hadn’t expected him to be so modest. I was
used to changing in front of other guys. “We’ll both turn our
backs. I’ll change over here and you do it over there.”

His laughter was cute, but I could tell he was

nervous. “No peeking,” he joked.

“I promise!” Good thing I had my fingers crossed,

because as soon as I turned around, I looked directly into
the full length mirror on my wall.

Trevor shuffled over to the corner, setting the shorts

atop the bedside stand that was next to him. His head was
bowed  as  he  looked  down  and  undid  the  button  of  his
khakis.  Slowly  he  slipped  them  off,  stooping  a  bit  as  he
stepped  out  of  the  legs.  As  he  did  so,  I  saw  his  round
bubble butt. He was wearing boxer briefs. He looked over
at  the  shorts,  examining  them.  They  were  actually  bathing
trunks that had a lining sewn into them, meaning you didn’t
need to wear underwear with them.

I froze, knowing I should be giving him his privacy

and  getting  myself  changed. After  all,  I’d  promised  him—
but  I  couldn’t  resist  watching.  Quickly  he  pulled  down  his
briefs,  exposing  his  white  bottom.  I  bit  my  bottom  lip  as  I
stared at his smooth backside. Within three seconds he’d
stepped into the bathing suit and pulled it up.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the crazy

thoughts that were racing through my brain, and started to
change myself. I looked away from the mirror as I stepped
out of my own pants and underwear and pulled on my small,
tight swimsuit. I looked up into the mirror as I was pulling the
shorts up my thighs and saw Trevor standing there, staring
with his mouth open.

“Hey!” I said reprovingly. “You weren’t supposed to
look.” I adjusted the shorts around my waist and turned
around.

“I never said that,” he shook his head. “You’re the one
who promised not to look, not me.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” he said.

“Well, did you see anything you liked?”

“Maybe.” He started to laugh. “You know, for someone
who’s supposedly straight…”

“Uh, I never said I was straight,” I said, my tone

defensive.

“Yes you did,” he stated. He looked me in the eye.
“That was one of the first things you told me
Wednesday.”

“I said just because my dads were gay, it didn’t mean I
was.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “And that’s not the
same as saying you’re straight?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “Why do I have to decide?

Why do I have to put a label on myself? I just don’t want
people making assumptions about me.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t really care what you call

yourself…as long as you’re wearing those shorts.”

I grinned, feeling my ego rise along with something

else. “You like em, huh?”

“I wonder if those guys are done in the bathroom,” he

said, changing the subject. “I’m going to go check.” And
then he was out the door.

****

I was still grinning when Christian slipped into my

room.

“Here,” he said, thrusting a package into my hands.

As I grabbed the paper bag, I didn’t need to ask what was
inside, but he told me anyway, rather dramatically. “Here’s
the stuff you asked for. If you get caught with it, forget where
it came from.”

I laughed as I pulled the magazines from the bag.

“Dude, you make it sound like a drug deal. Don’t worry, my
parents don’t care if I have porn magazines.”

“Really? Even real porn? The good stuff like that with

women?”

“They’ve had ‘the talk’ with me. Dad says it’s normal

for guys to think about sex and I shouldn’t feel guilty about it.
It’s just most guys—like you—can steal porno mags from
their brothers or their dads. In my case…”

“Oh yeah, right. If they have porn, it’s probably all…

ewww.” He made a face as he visualized it.

I cracked up. “I know man. They do have some, too.

They keep it in a drawer in their bedroom. Here’s where I
keep mine.” I pulled out the drawer of my bedside stand
and showed him the Sports Illustrated.

“You call this porn?” He said, holding it up and

looking at the centerfold. “She’s still got clothes on. You
gotta be able to see tits and pussy for it to be porn.”

“Did someone just say ‘tits and pussy’?” Brian

pushed the door open and entered the room. He stepped

behind Christian and gawked at the centerfold Christian
was still holding. “Nice!”

I snatched the magazine from his hand, put it with

the others, and stuffed them back in the drawer. “Come on,
let’s go swimming. And what would Katie say about you
lookin at this shit?”

“Katie would say, ‘Oh does that give you a stiffy? Let

me take care of that for you’.” He used a high-pitched
falsetto voice to mimic her and held up his hand to his
mouth, making a lewd, suggestive gesture as to represent
a blowjob.

“Yeah right,” Brian said. “I’m gonna go ask her.” He
turned and dashed out the door.

“Wait!” Christian shouted. “You fucker! You’d better not
say anything!”

****

I stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for

Trevor, and when he emerged a few seconds later he was
a  bit  startled  to  see  me  standing  there.  Barefoot  and
wearing  the  swimsuit  I’d  loaned  him,  he  looked  adorable.
He  still  had  on  the  polo  shirt  he  was  wearing  when  he
arrived, but I was now shirtless.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize you were waiting

to get in here.”

“I’m not,” I said, grinning at him. “I’m waiting for you

—or I

was

.”

He pushed up his glasses and took a step

backward. “Um… do we need towels or…”

“Nah, we have towels down there already.”

He looked up and smiled at me, speechless. I didn’t

know quite what to think of him. Since I’d kissed him the
day before, it was like he had become an entirely different
person. It wasn’t a bad thing. He was just shyer, like he was
unsure of himself. I sort of liked seeing that vulnerable side
of him. It was so different from the way he exuded
confidence while talking about math—or while hitting home
runs.

“Okay then,” he said, forcing a smile. I guessed it

was his way of saying he was ready. I returned his smile,
wondering why it all of a sudden felt as if we were facing a
firing squad rather than simply going down to the pool to
join our friends.

friends.

“You’re lucky to have your own pool,” he said as we

trudged through the kitchen toward the sliding-glass
window leading out to the lanai.

“Yeah,” I agreed. I hadn’t much thought about it.

We’d always had a pool. In fact, this was the only house I’d
ever lived in. My dads got it when Lisa was a baby, before

they had me. It was a four bedroom home with a two car
garage, a large, fenced-in back yard, and a pool. We had a
full-sized basement which was like our entertainment room.
Dad called it his man cave, and half of it was filled with
workout equipment. Father told people it was Dad’s home
gym. “You don’t have a pool then?” I asked.

Trevor shook his head. “Nah. Our place is smaller.

It’s just my mom and me … and her boyfriend.”

“You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

He shook his head as I opened the glass door and

stepped  onto  the  patio.  Christian  and  Brian  were  already
screaming,  and  the  first  thing  we  saw  was  Brian  doing  a
cannon-ball  into  the  deep  end  of  the  pool.  Christian  was
already  in  the  pool  and  was  overwhelmed  by  the  sudden
tidal  wave  created  by  Brian’s  splash.  “You  asshole!”  he
cried, shaking his head and wiping his face.

Trevor laughed and turned to look up at me. “Uh… I

don’t know about this.”

I grabbed his arm around his bicep and gently

tugged,  urging  him  out  the  door.  “Come  on,  it’ll  be  fun.”
Once  we  were  both  outside,  I  said  to  him,  “I’m  going  in.”
Then  without  warning  I  raced  toward  the  pool.  “Watch  out
below!” I leapt in the air, curling my knees upwards into my
chest,  and  did  a  cannon  ball  of  my  own  right  between
Christian  and  Brian.  When  I  came  up  from  underwater

seconds later, the two began splashing me.

Our water war lasted only a few seconds, then I

swam to the edge of the pool where Trevor was standing.
“Come on,” I urged him. “The water’s nice.”

“I’m goin in,” Katie declared. She was down at the

other end of the pool, using the ladder to make a much
more graceful entrance than Christian or I had.

“You don’t have to jump,” I said. “Use the ladder, like

Katie. Or sit on the edge and just slide in.” All of a sudden I
wondered if maybe he didn’t know how to swim. I hadn’t
even thought of that possibility. “Have you been swimming
before?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” We lived in Florida.

Of course he could swim. He stepped back from the edge
and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said as he squared his
shoulders.  He  looked  determined  as  he  nodded  his  head
and  stared  down  into  my  eyes.  Then  he  turned  and
removed  his  glasses,  placing  them  on  one  of  the  deck
tables.  With  his  back  to  me,  he  pulled  off  his  shirt  and
folded it neatly, then reached up quickly to smooth down his
hair.  I  had  to  laugh,  realizing  that  he’d  soon  be  wet.  Why
was he worried about his hair?

“Okay,” he said again, turning back around to face

me. He was slender and smooth, not an ounce of body fat,
but I wouldn’t say that he was anorexic. He didn’t have the

pecs and biceps like I did, but his abs were tight. He
stepped back to the edge of the pool and squatted down,
plopping his butt on the ground. Sliding his legs out, he
scooted to the edge of the pool and dangled his feet in the
water.

“See,” I said, “feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

I held out my hand to him. “Come on,” I urged him.

“Don’t rush me!” he said, then laughed. I could hear

our three friends behind me, splashing and hollering. I
stood there staring at Trevor, continuing to hold out my
hand.

“It’s like peeling off a Band Aid,” I said. “You gotta do

it fast.”

“You just said I

didn’t

have to do it fast,” he reminded

me.

I grabbed his arm with one hand and his ankle with

my other, taking him by surprise. “I lied!” Quickly I pulled him
toward me, and he slid smoothly off the edge and into the
pool on his back. As he went under, I wrapped my arms
around his torso and pulled him up. He was sputtering and
gasping for air.

“You! You!” He was about to cuss me out, but I was

laughing my ass off.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You … you scared the crap out of me!”

The others were laughing at this point. “Dude, if you
could’ve seen the look on your face,” Christian said. “It
was classic!”

Trevor made a face and used his fist to punch me in

the center of my chest. It wasn’t hard, and I could tell he was
trying not to laugh himself. “Paybacks are a bitch,” he
threatened.

“Whoa!” Christian and Brian said in unison. “Don’t

worry Trev, I’ll help you get him back,” Christian promised.

After that, the ice was broken and the four of us had

a blast. It didn’t take Trevor long to exact his revenge upon
me, and he didn’t even need Christian’s help. When I
wasn’t looking, he dove under water behind me. Being as
small as he was, it was easy for him to glide in between my
legs and completely upend me.

“Holy shit! You scared the crap out of me!” I cried as

I came up for air, spitting and sputtering.

“Dude, do that to me!” Christian pleaded. I couldn’t

believe he was

asking

Trevor to flip him like that, but Trevor

was happy to oblige. After him, he did Brian and then Katie.

I dove underwater myself, trying to startle Trevor and

flip  him  as  he’d  done  to  me.  He  reacted  quickly,  though,
squeezing  his  legs  together.  As  I  bolted  upwards,  he
remained  on  my  shoulders,  and  I  carried  him  around  the
pool. He was like a cowboy, and I guess I was his horse.

Katie found the stereo and began cranking some

jams, and our foursome continued laughing and splashing
one another for the next hour. I was having so much fun that
I didn’t hear my dad come home. I looked up and he was
suddenly standing there on the edge of the pool looking
down at me. Before I could greet him, Trevor dove on top of
me, using both hands to force my head underwater. When
we both came up for air and Trevor looked up to see my
dad, he started to freak and suddenly became all serious.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t see you standing there.”

Dad just laughed and shook his head. “First you get

a homerun off him on the second pitch, and now you
baptize him.” He winked and gave Trevor a thumbs up.

“You guys hungry?” Dad shouted. “I’ll order us some

pizzas.”

Forty-five minutes later we were all out of the pool

and wrapped in towels. Lisa was home, and the pizza had
arrived. I loved when dad was in charge of the meal
preparation. It was pizza every night. By seven o’clock, my
friends took off, and that left just Trevor and my family.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go get some warm clothes

on.”

When we got back to my room, I didn’t even wait for

the  door  to  close  behind  me  before  I  took  Trevor  in  my
arms.  I  held  his  head  in  my  hands,  running  my  fingers
through  his  damp  hair  as  our  lips  came  together.  The
searing  kiss  was  far  more  passionate  than  had  been  the
two previous, and he seemed to melt into me. As my heart
rate quickened and I felt myself becoming aroused, it was
nearly impossible to pull away.

Trevor looked up into my eyes, blinking as he did so.
“I…uh…how?” He gasped for air. “How did you learn to
kiss like that?”

“I don’t know,” I said, smiling broadly. “I guess you just
have this effect on me or something.”

He stepped back, turning away. “Adam, I’m so
confused.”

I knew what he was saying. I too was confused. I’d

spent  so  much  time  defending  my  heterosexuality,  stating
to anyone who’d listen that just because I had gay parents,
that  didn’t  make  me  gay.  I’d  even  punched  out  Derek
Peterson  for  making  that  assertion. And  now  here  I  was,
completely swept away by this kid. All I wanted to do was
take him in my arms and kiss his adorable face until my lips

fell off.

“It’s you, Trevor,” I said. “There’s just something

about you. I … I don’t know. I’m not sure exactly what it is.
Maybe it’s the way you’re so sure of yourself. Maybe it’s
your smile, your eyes, your spikey hair. Maybe it’s how cute
you look in those khakis that you wear, or … or how smart
you obviously are. Even your voice. Everything fucking
about you!”

“Adam…”

“Trevor, it’s only been three days since you started

tutoring me, and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I
mean, I guess we have known each other a long time, but
not really. You know?”

“Adam…”

“Trevor, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. Oh

my God how I’ve tried.” I sat on the bed and leaned forward,
placing  my  head  in  my  hands  while  resting  my  elbows  on
my  knees.  “I  even  asked  Christian  to  get  me  some  porn
magazines,  so  maybe  seeing  them  would  help  me  stop
thinking of you!”

“Oh my God, you didn’t tell him, did you?”

I shook my head. “No… of course not. I didn’t tell him
about us.”

“Adam, you’re so stupid. Why didn’t you just use the
Internet to get free porn?”

“You’re right,” I conceded. “I

a m

stupid. I’m just a

dumb jock, just like you always knew I was.”

He stepped over to me, placing his hand on my

shoulder. “Adam, will you please shut the fuck up?” I looked
up at him. “I’ve been trying to tell you—I feel the same way,
and you’re not dumb at all. You’re one of the most amazing
guys I’ve ever met, and I can’t stop thinking of you either.”

I grabbed him again, pulling him onto the bed as I

rolled over on top of him, pinning him against the mattress.
We kissed this time more passionately than ever. I slid my
tongue into his mouth and pulled him tightly against my
chest. I rubbed my hand across his smooth back, enjoying
the feel of his skin.

“When I first found out I was going to be tutoring you,

it was like a dream come true,” he whispered. “I was so
excited, but also terrified.”

“What are you talking about? I was the one who was

scared. You’re so smart, and I knew what you must think of
me.”

“I thought you were a hero,” he said. “I’ve always

thought that, but especially after you punched Derek for
calling your dad a fag.”

I used my arm to prop my head up, still looking him

in the eye. “Truth is, I was afraid people would think I was
the fag. And now… well, look at me. I

.”

With his index finger he traced a line down the

center of my chest, dissecting my pecs. “Earlier you told me
you don’t believe in those labels,” he reminded me.

“All I know is that I believe in kissing you. I believe in

how you make me feel, but I have to be honest. I’m probably
not ready to go out and tell the world I’m gay.”

He nodded. “And I have to be honest too. I’m already

out.  It’s  not  like  I  go  proclaim  it  by  shouting  from  the
mountaintops,  but  if  someone  asks  me,  I’m  going  to  tell
them.  And  Adam,  no  matter  how  you  make  me  feel—no
matter  how  good  of  a  kisser  you  are—I  can’t  live  a  lie  to
protect you. I’m sorry.”

I stared at him for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I

slowly exhaled. There was a part of me that felt he was
being unreasonable. I could not visualize myself at this point
going back to school and telling everyone Derek was right
all along. My dads are gay and so am I. What was Christian
going to think? What about the other guys on my team?

“Trevor, I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t think

I’m strong enough.”

“Oh, you’re very strong,” he assured me. “Look at

this.” He squeezed my bicep. “I could just come in my pants

this.” He squeezed my bicep. “I could just come in my pants
when I see those muscles of yours.” He leaned forward and
gently kissed one of my pecs. “And you’re strong in here
too,” he said, pointing to my chest. “But it’s not up to me to
tell you when you are ready to come out. I can’t do that for
you, and I wouldn’t even if I could. All I’m saying is that no
matter what happens between us, please don’t expect me
to go back in the closet. I care too much about myself to
ever do that.”

I had to smile. “And that’s what I like most about you.

Maybe we can just take this slow. Maybe you can help me,
a little at a time. And Trevor, I promise I won’t ever expect
you to hide who you are.”

This time he’s the one who kissed me, pushing me

backwards on the mattress. He slid his smaller body on top
of mine and pinned me on my back while planting rapid,
sweet little kisses onto my lips, face and neck. I gave into
him, lying back and relaxing, laughing all the while.

“What in the

hell

is going on in here?”

Trevor and I both jumped at the sound of Father’s

voice. Trevor turned and rolled off of me, and we both lay
there staring up at my father who looked as if he was about
to kill us.

Chapter Five

“Father!” Leaning back on my elbows I stared up at

him. I felt my face getting very hot as he just looked at us.
Like a statue he remained there, and I wasn’t sure if it was
because he was so shocked that he didn’t know what to
say or if it was because he was really pissed.

“Both of you get dressed and come downstairs,” he

said. He started to pull the door closed behind him as he
stepped out but then turned back around. “And leave the
door open!”

“Fuck!” I said as I glanced over at Trevor. He was

holding his hand over his mouth. I wondered if he was about
to start crying. He looked me in the eye and then cracked
up laughing. “Stop laughing!” I scolded him. I picked up a
pillow and hit him with it.

“But it’s funny,” he said. “Did you see the look on his

face?”

“Trevor, I’m so in trouble. I’m dead fucking meat.”

He jumped up off the bed. “I left my shirt down by the

pool, so you either have to go get it for me or find me
something else to wear,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Are you listening to me?” I said. “I’m in trouble here!”

“You’re not in trouble,” he said confidently. “Although I
do have to admit this was not the way I wanted to meet
your father.”

“They’re gonna ground me for another month,” I said.

“For kissing? Nah, I doubt it,” he said. “Your dad is just
shocked right now. He didn’t know you were gay.”

“You mean my father.”

“Whatever. Let’s call him ‘Little Dad’. Your other dad is
‘Big Daddy’.” Trevor busted up laughing at his own
lame joke.

“Can you be serious for a minute? Do you really think
that’s all it is? He’s just shocked to see me kissing a
boy?”

Trevor shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out in a couple

minutes. Will you get me that shirt please, or am I going to
have to march downstairs myself in front of your dads and
go to the pool.”

“No, I’ll get you one.” I stepped over to the dresser

and found a tee shirt for him, tossing it on the bed. Trevor
picked it up and slid it on. It was big, hanging way down
past his butt. He then slid off the bathing suit and grabbed
the undershorts he’d left on the nightstand. I turned away

the undershorts he’d left on the nightstand. I turned away
and got changed myself.

Father and Dad were waiting for us in the living

room. As we entered, Father pointed to the sofa. “Sit,” he
said.

I looked at Dad, trying to see if I could tell anything

by  his  expression.  He  raised  his  eyebrows  at  me  as  he
always  did,  which  immediately  told  me  he  wasn’t  angry.
“Adam,”  he  began,  “I  guess  you  have  some  explaining  to
do.”

I looked down at the coffee table, again feeling
incredibly embarrassed. I clasped my hands together
and took a deep breath.

“Sir, may I speak?” Trevor asked.

“Sure Trevor, go ahead,” Dad said.

“First of all, I’m sorry to meet you this way,” he turned

to Father as he said this. “I’ve been very much looking
forward to meeting you, and I really could think of a million
better ways for that to happen than for you to walk in on me
attacking your son.”

“Is that what you were doing?” he asked flatly.

“Yes, sir. More or less.”

I glanced over at my Dad, who had a shit eating grin

on his face. I knew he wasn’t going to be able to contain
himself much longer.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One…

burst into laughter.

This triggered Trevor to begin laughing as well. They

both were soon in stitches while Father and I just sat there
staring at one another. “This isn’t funny!” I shouted.

Dad and Trevor suddenly got serious. “Sorry,”

Trevor said. “Yes sir, I was kind of attacking Adam. But it
was with kisses.”

“You two were naked on the bed in Adam’s room. If I

hadn’t walked in when I did, I can only imagine what would
have happened!”

“With all due respect, sir, nothing more was going to

happen,” Trevor said. “But I do understand and appreciate
your concern. Frankly, I’m not ready for anything more than
kissing at this stage. Adam and I just officially met two days
ago.”

Dad held up his hand. “Okay, let’s back up here. Is

anyone thirsty? You guys want a soda or something?” We
both shook our heads.

“I could use a glass a wine,” Father said.

Fuck!

knew it was serious when father wanted alcohol.

“Sure,” Dad said. “You know, that sounds pretty

good. He stepped over to the cabinet at the side of the

room and got out a couple wine glasses. “Adam, go bring
me that bottle that’s chilling in the refrigerator, if you would.
And grab the corkscrew from the drawer.” I jumped up and
dashed out to the kitchen to do as he said, thankful for a
brief reprieve.

When I sat back down on the couch, the three of

them were silent. “All right,” Dad said as he inserted the
corkscrew into the bottle. “Adam, I think you have
something to tell us?”

I looked at him, wide-eyed. Gulping, I shook my

head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” Dad said. He popped the cork. “Well, I

guess  I’ve  got  something  to  tell  you  then.”  He  poured  two
glasses of wine and handed one to Father. “When you and
Lisa  were  little,  this  was  a  topic  that  your  daddy  and  I
discussed. It was a huge concern of ours—more so of your
daddy’s,  actually.  He  was  worried  that  when  you  got  to  a
certain  age—puberty,  I  guess—that  things  may  be
confusing for you. With you having gay parents, we did not
want things to be difficult for you.”

“I was worried that somehow the chances of you

being gay yourself would be greater because of us,” Father
said.

“And we did some research,” Dad continued. “A lot

of research actually. We discovered that statistically

children of gay parents are no more likely to be gay than
children of heterosexual parents.”

I looked over and saw Trevor nodding.

Father spoke. “So we decided a long time ago that

when the time came that this became an issue, we would
handle things responsibly. We decided that we would
simply strive to provide a loving, accepting environment for
you, and no matter what your sexual orientation happened
to be, we would support and love you … with all our hearts.”
His voice was strained, and I could tell he was choking up.

“Dad,” I said, “Father… I’m sorry. I wish I had talked

to you about this. It’s just that this is so hard. It’s so
confusing. I didn’t expect this to happen between Trevor
and me. It just did.”

“Sirs,” Trevor said, “I’m gay. I’ve always known I was

gay, and I told Adam right away. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s
mine.”

Father stood up, shaking his head. He set his glass

down on the stand beside him and stepped over to me,
placing his hand on my shoulder. “Son, it’s nobody’s fault.
We could never be upset or angry or even disappointed
with Adam for being who he is.”

I looked up at him. “Thanks, Father,” I said. “And for

the record, I’m not even sure what I am. All I know is how
Trevor makes me feel.” I reached over and grabbed

Trevor’s hand.

“And you don’t have to worry about putting a label on

yourself,” Father said. “Coming out is not usually a single
event. It’s something that happens over time. No one in this
room can tell you who you are, Adam. We can’t say to you
that because you kissed a boy that you’re gay. We can’t tell
you that you’re bisexual or straight. Only you can decide this
for yourself, and we trust you to feel comfortable with talking
to us about it when the time is right for you.”

“We love you, Adam,” Dad said. “We will always

love you, no matter who

you

love.”

Hearing this was like having a huge weight lifted

from  my  shoulders. All  of  the  events  of  the  previous  week
had laid heavy on my conscience. The fight with Derek. The
suspension  and  arguments  with  Father.  My  feelings  for
Trevor  and  the  confusion  I  felt.  None  of  it  mattered  any
more, though. All that mattered was that my dads loved me
unconditionally.

“For the longest time, I’ve been afraid,” I said. My

voice  was  quiet,  hardly  louder  than  a  whisper.  I  knew  if  I
tried to speak up I would start bawling. “Some of the kids at
school  have  said  things  to  me. A  lot  of  them  know  about
you two. They know I have gay parents, and some of them
think  that  I’m  probably  gay  because  of  that.  I’ve  always
hated that. I wanted to prove them all wrong.

“I look at pictures of girls. Christian gives me

magazines and stuff. I look at them because there are
times I just want to be like everyone else. I just want to be
normal. To be honest, it’s been confusing to me.
Sometimes I’ve thought I might be attracted to girls. Other
times I thought I liked guys.

“But I never felt anything like I feel now since I met

Trevor. Yesterday after we finished studying, we got into a
fight. An argument. I was so pissed at him, but at the same
time I just wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him. So I
did.”

Trevor squeezed my hand.

“Infuriating, aren’t they?” Dad said, nodding toward
Father.

“Yes. Very much!” I agreed.

Father moved back over to his chair and sat down,

taking another sip of his wine. He pulled a tissue from the
box on the stand and dabbed his eyes. Crossing his legs
and squaring his shoulders, he sat there with perfect
posture. He then turned to look at me. “Okay then, we need
to establish some new rules.”

Oh brother, Trevor ought to

appreciate this

. “First of all, you two are no longer allowed

in your room alone together unless the door is open. If there
is no adult in the house, you are definitely not allowed in
your room at all.”

“Dad!” I said, turning to him, hoping for his

intercession. He shook his head and looked at Father.

“Secondly,” Father said. He took another huge gulp

of his wine before continuing. “We can’t police you twenty-
four hours of the day, as much as we’d want to be able to
do so. We would prefer that you wait before taking things to
the next level. We’d prefer that you wait a

long

time,

actually. A long, loooong time.” He sighed. “But we also
know what it is like to be young and in love. Not saying this
is love, but just in case… oh God! Brett, can you fucking
help me out here?”

“What he’s trying to say is that if you decide to have

sex, use a condom.”

Trevor busted up laughing. He held his hands over

his mouth. “Sorry sir,” he said, trying not to giggle. “It’s just
so funny. He was trying to be so delicate, and you just
blurted it out.”

“Yes,” Father said, “he has a tendency to do that.”

He gave Dad a stern, reproving look. “But yes, this is
precisely what I was trying to say. We want you to be safe.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to call you,” Trevor

said. “Adam calls you Dad and Father; should I just call you
Mr. Willson Number One and Mr. Willson Number Two?”

“Actually we have a hyphenated last name,” Dad

explained. “We are both Mr. Irwin-Willson, but Jeff generally
uses his original surname, and I do the same. You can just
call us Brett and Jeff, though.”

“Really?” Trevor said, surprised. “Okay, Jeff sir.

Um… we are not ready to do anything right now. At least
I’m not. I just know I really like Adam, both as a student of
mine and also as … well, whatever you’d call it. We aren’t
even boyfriends or anything. We’ve just kissed a couple
times.”

“Four,” I said.

“Yeah, four times. And they were all very nice,” he

turned to me as he said this. “But we aren’t even talking
about anything beyond that.”

“Well, neither Brett nor I are encouraging you to

become sexually active. Like I said, we’d prefer you waited.
You’re both so young, but if you do make that decision we
want you to be safe.”

“Yes sir, of course,” Trevor agreed.

“Thank you,” I said, as I looked first into Dad’s eyes

and then Father’s. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk this past
week.”

“We love you, son,” Dad said. “You’ve nothing to be

sorry for.” He stood up and stepped over to me. I rose from
the couch and embraced him. Father stepped over and

also hugged me. The three of us were all misty eyed. Well
actually, Dad and I were misty eyed, and Father was
blubbering like a baby. I didn’t care, though, because when
I looked down at Trevor, his eyes also were leaking like
faucets.

****

“I want to walk you home,” I said to him.

“Half way,” he conceded. At first he had refused a

ride, and then he’d said he didn’t want me going with him. I
was glad he’d given in and at least allowed me to
accompany him part way.

“Deal,” I said.

“Adam, you’ve made this the best day of my life,” he
said.

I squeezed his hand as we stepped off the porch. “I
know what you mean. Here, let me carry your
backpack.”

“I can get it,” he insisted.

“Come on,” I said, “please.”

He rolled his eyes and handed over the backpack,

humoring me. “You said you liked my muscles, so you
should let me use them,” I rationalized.

“You just feel more like the man when you’re doing
things like that for me,” he said.

“Maybe,” I said. “Is that bad?”

“Nah,” he said as he smiled at me. “I like it.”

“Good. Can you believe my dads?” I asked.

“How mortifying, the way they kept going on about
condoms and stuff,” he said. “I hate when parents want
to give you ‘the talk’.”

“Is your mom like that?” I asked.

“Nah, not really. She did bitch at me a little when I

first came out to her, but I don’t think she really cares. She
said, ‘Don’t go out and get AIDS. We ain’t got insurance’.”

“Really?” I said, shocked. I couldn’t believe someone

would say something so horrible to their own kid.

He shrugged. “Let’s not talk about that,” he said. “I’d

rather talk about your parents. I think you have the coolest
dads in the world.”

“Yeah, that’s what Christian says too, but my father
annoys me sometimes. He’s so… I don’t know what
the word is.”

“Persnickety,” Trevor suggested.

“I don’t know… not sure what that word means.”

“He has to have things a certain way. He’s anal about
everything,” Trevor explained.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Adam, that’s just his personality. I’m kind of the same
way, ya know.”

I had to laugh. “Yeah, you both have a thing about
making rules.”

“And you’re more like your dad. You’re carefree, and
you think rules are made to be broken.”

“How’d you know?” I said. “That’s exactly how I am,

and I sometimes wonder how my dads even got together in
the first place. They’re so different. I think I’d have strangled
Father if I’d have been my dad.”

“Would you strangle me? You were upset with me
yesterday and you didn’t strangle me. You kissed me.”

“Like this,” I said, stopping and pressing my lips
against his.

“Mmm,” he said. “This is going to be a long walk home
if we have to stop and kiss every few feet.”

“I know,” I said, “but I have all night.”

Chapter Six

Trevor was my first thought Saturday morning. I

wished he had a cell phone, because I would have texted
him  before  I  even  got  out  of  bed.  Instead  I  just  lay  there
thinking  of  him.  I  thought  about  his  lips  pressed  against
mine.  They  were  so  soft  and  warm.  His  skin  was  so
smooth,  and  he  smelled  so  good.  I  liked  the  way  his  big
brown eyes opened really wide when he got excited. I loved
the way he pushed his glasses up on his nose all the time.
He was kind of nerdy, but in a very endearing way.

I was feeling very aroused, and I couldn’t help but

touch myself. Five minutes later I had a mess to mop up.

After my shower, I thought about calling him. I

decided instead to get some breakfast and then get my
algebra assignment out of the way. Today was my big
game. I didn’t want to do a rigorous work-out in case it left
me sore. I could do some cardio-vascular though, but then
I’d need to take another shower.

Father usually didn’t make breakfast on Saturdays.

He let us fend for ourselves, so I got myself a bowl of cereal
and some toast. He usually got up early and went jogging. I
thought it was kind of weird how he never used the gym

downstairs but liked to jog. And he only did it once a week.
It was his ritual, like Trevor had said. He liked things a
certain way—a routine.

Lisa stumbled out to the kitchen about the same

time I did. She had been in her room the night before when
Trevor and I had our chat with my dads. I wondered how
much she knew.

“Morning,” she said. “How can you stand that

chocolate cereal?” She made a face as she looked down
at my bowl of Cocoa Puffs. “Yuck.” She grabbed the box of
Frosted Mini Wheats from the cupboard.

Ignoring her griping, I simply replied, “Morning.”

“Don’t drink from the carton. That’s gross!” she
scolded me as I tipped back the orange juice carton.

“Stop being so grouchy,” I said. I set the carton on the
counter and got a glass from the cupboard. “You want
some?”

“Yeah,” she said, “Er… yes please. I don’t see how you
can stand to drink orange juice with sweet sugar
cereal.”

“And

Frosted

Mini Wheats aren’t sweet?” I pointed

out. She shrugged.

We carried our bowls and glasses over to the table

and sat down. “So what was that big pow wow about last
night with you guys?”

“What do you mean?” I said, playing dumb. Her hair

was all messed up, and it was kind of hard to even take her
seriously with such out of control bedhead. I tried to
maintain a sober look.

“Don’t be a moron,” she said. “You know what I’m

talking about.”

I tried to act casual as I told her. “Oh, it’s just that

Father walked in on Trevor and me kissing. We were
practically naked and were rolling around on my bed.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

I couldn’t keep from laughing.

“So you’re….?”

“I don’t know what I am,” I confessed. “But I know I like
Trevor.”

“Really? Well that’s cool,” she said. “I like him too.

He seems really nice, and he’s so smart. Does he go
around quoting Einstein while you’re making out with him?”

“Stop being stupid,” I said, but chuckled in spite of
myself. “Actually, that might be kind of hot.”

“Oh my God,” she said, “you really do like him.”

“I wish he’d call,” I said. “Can you believe he doesn’t
even have a cell phone?”

“Maybe his family is poor or something,” she said. “It’s
not a crime, ya know.”

“I know, but I miss him already.”

“It’s so weird that you’d be this way. The other day

you were going on about how you weren’t gay. I guess
maybe it’s true what they say. ‘Thou doth protest too
much’.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

“Well if you have the hots for Trevor, then you’re

obviously gay. You were saying the other day that you
weren’t.”

She had a good point. I think that the reason I was

complaining all the time about people labeling me was
because I hadn’t figured things out yet for myself. I knew I
had these feelings, and they bugged me. I was worried that
everyone was going to make assumptions about who I was,
and I so the only way to counteract their attitudes was to
deny everything.

“Well, I’m sorry,” I said. “I really didn’t mean to lie

about anything. I was still trying to figure it all out.”

“It’s okay,” she said, placing her hand on my arm. “I

know I’m a bitch to you sometimes, but you do realize I love
you very much.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And I agree, you can be a real

bitch.” She stuck out her tongue, and we both laughed. “So
are you coming to the game today?”

“Of course,” she said. “You know I’ll be there to

support my baby brother, even though he is a big pain in
the ass. Is your boyfriend coming?”

I nearly choked on my Cocoa Puffs. “He’s not really my
boyfriend. Not yet, and I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Well, if he does come, I’ll sit with him. I’ll give him all
the dirt on you.”

“Stay away from him,” I warned.

“Don’t worry… I won’t tell him about the time you peed
the bed at Gramma’s house and then let me take the
blame for it.”

“Stop!”

“And I won’t tell him how when you were nine you

watched that Freddy Krueger movie and had to sleep with
me—with the lights on—for the next three nights.”

“Lisa!”

She started laughing. “I’m teasing. Don’t worry, I’ll only

say nice things about you.”

“You better,” I said, picking up my bowl to drink the
chocolate milk left in the bottom.

****

I didn’t think coach was ever going to stop

screaming at me. He lectured me a good ten minutes, non-
stop, when I got to the field, and then he made me run laps.
He said he’d also make me do pushups but didn’t want to
wear out my arm. I suspected I’d be doing them at my next
practice.

I didn’t mind the laps. They got my adrenaline

flowing.  The  lecture  wasn’t  unbearable  either.  I’d  kind  of
expected  it.  I  was  really  glad  to  be  back  with  the  team.
Christian  played  centerfield,  and  Brian  was  our  first
baseman. All of us were psyched for the game.

For the first three innings I was pitching a no-hitter. I

finally  gave  up  two  hits  in  the  fourth  which  resulted  in  one
run  being  scored.  We  were  ahead  though,  3  to  1.  I  didn’t
give up any more hits until the seventh, but no runs scored.
Going into the final inning, the score was 4 to 1, our lead. I
was psyched yet forced myself to stay focused. I was three
outs  away  from  my  first  varsity  victory.  I  walked  the  first
batter. It was my first walk of the game. The next batter at
the plate was their center fielder, and he had a reputation
as a homerun hitter. The crowd was going crazy when the

count got to 3 and 2. I heaved a sigh of relief when he
swung hard at my fastball and missed. I’d struck him out!

I looked into the crowd for the first time, but only

briefly. I saw my dads and Lisa. They were all on their feet,
but I didn’t see Trevor. I couldn’t think about it. Had to stay
focused. I could have kicked myself when I allowed the next
batter to slice one up right field, getting on base and
advancing the runner to second. With two men on and only
one out, one bad pitch could make it a tie ball game. When
I walked the next batter, coach called a timeout and came
out to the plate.

“Coach, please don’t pull me,” I pleaded. “I can do this.
I know I can.”

“Son, you’ve pitched a great game, but I think you’re
getting tired.”

“I’m fine. Really I am.”

“The bases are loaded. All you’ve worked for in this
game could fly out the window with one hit.”

“Please trust me,” I said. “I know I can handle it.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and sighed.

“Well, you’ve brought us this far,” he said. “Okay, against
my better judgment I’ll keep you in, but it’s only because I
know you’re right. You can do this.”

As he walked off the field the crowd went wild,

cheering and waving our team flags. I looked over to the
bleachers and finally spotted him. He was standing next to
Father, screaming at the top of his lungs. “You can do it,
Adam!”

The next batter went down—one, two, three.

I now was one out away from my first varsity win.

When the batter connected with the ball on the first pitch,
my heart sank. It sailed into the air, and I turned, following it
with my eyes. Back, back, almost to the fence. Foul! Whew,
that was a close one. The crowd moaned and then
cheered. The next pitch was a strike. I was one pitch away
from ending it.

I took a deep breath and thought of Trevor. He was

in the stands watching me. I knew I could do it! I threw the
ball, and as it sailed across the plate, it felt like everything
went in slow motion. When I saw the batter swing his bat
and miss, then heard the ball smack hard into the catcher’s
mitt, I leapt into the air. I’d done it. I’d struck him out and
won the game!

My teammates swarmed around me, piling on top of

me  as  they  high  fived  each  other.  Next  thing  I  knew  they
were  lifting  me  in  the  air  as  the  crowd  cheered.  Our
celebration  didn’t  last  long.  We  quickly  contained  our
excitement and shook hands with the opposing team.

Dad and Trevor were waiting by the fence when

coach dismissed us from the dugout. Trevor ran up and
hugged me, and Dad put his arm around my shoulder.
“Great job,” he said. “Son, I’m so proud of you.”

I turned to Trevor. “I kept looking for you but didn’t

see you.”

“Sorry, I got here as soon as I could,” he said. “I’m

just glad I made it in time to see you win.”

“Me too,” I said. He was wearing a baseball cap,

and as I looked down at him, I noticed something awry.
There was a mark on the side of his face, though it was
mostly concealed by his hat. It was a bruise or something
up by his ear.

“What happened?” I said. I reached over to pull off

his hat.

He reacted quickly, placing his hands on top of his

head to hold the hat on. “Oh nothing,” he said. “I hit my
head. It’s no big deal.”

“Let me see,” I insisted. Reluctantly he allowed me to

pull off his hat. The bruise was nasty—bright purple. “Oh my
God, how’d you do this? Dad, look at this.”

“Trevor, what’d you do? Have you been to the doctor

for this?”

“No, sir. It’s okay. I do stuff like this all the time. I’m a

klutz.” He pulled his hat back on. “Those last two strike outs
were awesome.”

I looked at Dad, unsure what to do. “Yeah, they were. I
was so psyched. Where’s Father and Lisa?”

“They went to get the car,” Trevor said. “They’ll pick us
up by the gate.”

“I think you need to get that bruise looked at,” Dad said
to Trevor. “You could have a concussion.”

“Oh… well, my mom’s gonna take me to the doctor
tomorrow if it’s not better. But really I get injuries like
this all the time.”

When Father pulled around with the SUV, Trevor

and I piled into the back seat. Lisa was in the middle and
the dads sat in the front. A lot of the team was heading over
to Logan’s Steakhouse for a victory dinner, and everyone
agreed we should join them. Once we were on our way, I
gently removed Trevor’s hat and looked more closely at his
head.

“Did someone hit you?” I whispered into his ear as I

grabbed hold of his hand.

He turned and looked me in the eye. “It’s okay,” he

said quietly, and then leaned in to give me a quick kiss on
the lips. “Please don’t worry about it.” I wrapped my arm

around him and pulled him against my body, gently kissing
the side of his face, taking care not to touch the bruise.

None of the team said a word about my suspension,

but I could tell everyone was glad I was back. Dad told me
to order anything I wanted from the menu, which was kind of
a silly thing to say because I would have done so anyway. I
got the biggest cheeseburger on the menu. Trevor copied
me but chose a smaller version.

“You want to come over and check out my algebra

after dinner?” I asked Trevor.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll check out your

algebra

.” I

laughed as I felt Trevor reach under the table to squeeze
the top of my leg. “I like your uniform,” he whispered.

Father, who was sitting right next to us, cleared his
throat loudly.

We both giggled.

****

“So how did you know about yourself?” It was

Sunday  afternoon,  and  Trevor  had  come  over  for  dinner.
Father made a huge meal, probably because it was the last
day  we’d  all  be  together.  Dad  went  back  to  work  on
Monday  and  was  going  to  be  in  Nashville  until  Thursday.
Trevor  and  I  were  sitting  outside  by  the  pool,  letting  our
overstuffed bodies digest the humongous meal.

“What do you mean” he said, “that I’m gay?”

“Yeah. Like why has it been such a big deal for me

to figure out who I am, but you just knew? Didn’t you ever
question it?”

“Hm, that’s a good question.” I was sprawled out on

one of the deck chairs and he was snuggled up between
my legs. He ran his hand back and forth across my thigh.
“Well, when I was little, it didn’t matter. Little boys can have
crushes on little boys, and nobody thinks anything of it. It’s
not ’til they get into middle school that they’re expected to
show interests in girls.”

“I never had that happen, though. I had lots of friends

who were boys and girls, and I never really had crushes on
any of them.”

“My best friend is Shari Connors,” he said. “She’s

like the one single person that I tell everything.”

“Did you tell her anything about me?” I asked. I knew

Shari from school, but we weren’t really friends. She was
nice enough, but we just kind of ran in different circles. She
was funny, always cracking jokes. And she was really into
drama club. Everyone knew she had a great singing voice.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Soon as I got your name from

the counselor’s office, I told her. I called her and said she
wasn’t gonna believe who I was tutoring.”

“You didn’t,” I said, squeezing his shoulder just

below his neck. He moved his chin and giggled. Ah, I’d
found a sensitive spot. “Someone’s ticklish,” I teased.

“I’m very ticklish,” he admitted with a little laugh.

“When I was little I had this neighbor kid named Barry. He
tickled me all the time, and he was one of the boys I first
had a crush on. He didn’t end up being gay though. Now he
won’t even talk to me.”

“Fuck Barry,” I said, a little surprised by my own
jealousy.

“But yeah, I just sort of knew. It was not like this big
realization. I never had an epiphany or anything.”

“An epifa-what?” I said.

“An epiphany. Like a moment of truth where there’s a
dawning of realization.”

“Like I had when I met you?”

“I don’t know. Is that what it was?”

I thought for a minute. “Kind of. You know if you keep

rubbing my legs like that, I’m gonna need to go in the
bathroom for some quality alone time.”

He laughed. “Why? Are you getting excited?” He slid

one of his hands up over my groin to cup my bulge. “Oh

wow, you really

are

getting excited.” His eyes lit up.

“Stop!” I said in a stage whisper. “What if my father
walks out here and catches us again?”

“So I’m the first boy you’ve kissed?” he asked.

I nodded. “What about you?”

“No, I’ve kissed other boys. A couple of them …
nothing serious. And I’ve done other things.”

“Like what?” I sort of wished I hadn’t asked, but now

that the cat was out of the bag I had to go through with the
line of questioning. I had to know what all he’d done.

“Well, I used to have this friend named Keith, and

sometimes I slept over at his house. We used to do things
together. Mostly it was me doing things to him, actually.
He’d always pretend like they never happened. That’s kind
of why I decided if I was going to be out, I would be all the
way out. That kind of hypocrisy just made no sense to me.”

“So he pretended like he was totally straight, but

secretly he messed around with you?”

“Yeah, and I had this huge crush on him. I kept

hoping he’d have one of those epiphany moments where
he realized he was totally gay and head over heels in love
with me. It never happened.”

“And who else?” I asked. “You said there were

boys

plural.”

“What is this, some sort of inquisition?”

“Why do you keep using those big words?” I asked.

“The Inquisition was when they captured people and

questioned them. Forced them to give up information by
using torture. It was the Catholic Church, and they were
trying to rid the world of all the non-Christians.”

“I don’t know how you can be so smart,” I said. “I do

good in school, but I don’t remember all that stuff. I just
remember it long enough for the test, and then it’s gone.

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

He smiled at me. “We’re only sixteen,” he said. “How

much experience do you think I should have? I kissed Keith
a couple times, and we fooled around a little. And I had a
crush on this guy in eighth grade band. His name was Tim,
and he played the trombone. He moved away, though.
Goes to a different school now.”

“I think I know who that is. Tall, skinny kid with reddish
hair?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s gay too?”

“Sure seemed gay to me when he was passing me
notes asking for a blowjob.”

“Seriously?” I said. “Did you…?”

He shook his head. “All I ever did was mess around

a little bit with Keith. We never really even touched either
other than to kiss. And we kind of… you know.”

“Like jacked off together?”

“Yeah.”

A sense of relief washed over me. I don’t know why,

but it really bothered me to think of Trevor being with one of
these other guys. I didn’t know if anything was going to
happen between us, but if it did, I sort of wanted us to be
each other’s first.

“I’ve kissed a couple girls,” I confessed. “But you’re

the first boy.”

“And how was it? How’d I compare to the girls?”

“There’s no comparison,” I said honestly. He slid up

further on the chair, moving closer to me and rested his
head against my chest. It felt good to have him lying against
me like that. “So… tomorrow’s the big day,” I said,
changing the subject. “I go back to school and have to face
all my teachers.”

“And all your admiring fans,” Trevor pointed out. He

now was running his fingers up and down my arm. “First you
punched out the school bully and then pitched a nearly
perfect game to start the baseball season.”

“And got caught up on my algebra. And kissed a boy

for the first time. And …”

“And what?”

“And started to figure things out. Just a week ago,

everything was all messed up, but now it feels like it
couldn’t be more perfect.”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “Being with you

does feel perfect. Now we just have to see how long that
feeling lasts…”

Chapter Seven

“What’s up with that Trevor kid?” Christian asked.

We were in the hall, getting our books from our lockers. Not
only was Christian’s locker right next to mine, but we had
the same homeroom.

“What do you mean?” I said, as I stuffed my

backpack into the bottom of my locker after and pulled out
my history book.

“I mean, I thought he was just your tutor, but then

Friday he was at your house all evening. Then he was at the
game Saturday. You two don’t seem like the type to be
such close friends.”

I looked over at him. “I didn’t know there was a

certain

type

of person that I was allowed to be friends with,”

I said. This whole conversation was weird. It didn’t even
sound like Christian talking. Was he jealous or something?

“Dude, last week you punched Derek out for calling

you gay, right? Well, look at Trevor. He’s not exactly what I’d
call a normal dude. He’s kind of girly.” As he said it, I felt the
rage rising inside me. I took a deep breath, knowing I
couldn’t have another fight on my first day back.

I pointed my finger at him. “Shut up, Christian!”

“What?” he said defensively. “What’d I say? You’re

the one who was all worried about people making
assumptions about you. Personally, I don’t care. You wanna
be friends with a guy like Trevor, that’s your choice…”

“I just don’t like the way you’re sayin that,” I said,

moving closer to him. “ ‘A guy like Trevor,’ like there’s
something wrong with him. And he’s

not

girly. He’s anything

but girly. He hit a homerun off me the other night when we
were practicing.”

“You were practicing with him?” His tone was

incredulous.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Dude, calm down. I don’t care who you’re friends

with. You already know, I really like your dads. I have no
problem with gay people. I just thought you were the one
who had issues, and if you don’t want people to think you’re
that way yourself, maybe you shouldn’t hang out with guys
who obviously

are

.”

“Let’s just say I don’t really care anymore. Derek can

say whatever he wants about me. His dumbass opinions
don’t matter to me. And if you’re gonna start sounding like
him, then yours don’t either.” I slammed my locker shut and
walked away. When I got to homeroom I took a seat clear

on the other side of the room, as far away from him as
possible.

My algebra class was the last hour before lunch. It

was the only class I shared with Trevor. I tried to get there
early, not only because I wanted to get a seat next to Trevor
but also because I had to turn in my make-up assignments
to Mr. Cleaver.

“Wow,” he said, clearly impressed. “Maybe we

should suspend you more often, Mr. Willson. Who would’ve
thought that’s all it’d take to get you caught up?”

“Well I’m not completely caught up yet,” I confessed.

“But I honestly am starting to understand everything.
Trevor’s been a great teacher. Uh, not that you’re not a
good teacher too.” I was putting my foot in my mouth.

“I understand,” he said. “Sometimes the one-on-one

is all it takes. And you’re right about Trevor. He’s very
good.”

When he walked into the room just before the bell, I

motioned for him to sit by me. His eyes lit up and a broad
smile crossed his face. He plopped down in the desk next
to me. “Hey,” he said. “You turn in your assignments?”

“Yup,” I said, feeling very proud. “And he was pretty

impressed.”

I still didn’t understand most of what Cleaver was

talking about during class, but I wasn’t worried. I knew
Trevor could explain it all to me later. Plus, I was still about
a few chapters behind. I’d probably be caught up within the
next week or so, Trevor had told me.

I avoided Christian at lunch and sat with Trevor and his
friend Shari.

“So I heard about the big game on Saturday,” she
said. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

I tried to sound modest. “Well, I never even got on
base,” I said.

“You were the pitcher, you moron,” Trevor pointed out.
“Who cares if you got on base? It was practically a no-
hitter.”

“Did you know Trevor is very ticklish?” I said, turning to
Shari.

“Oh really?” She smiled evilly.

“Don’t even!” Trevor protested. Shari and I moved in

unison, each attacking one side of him, digging our fingers
into his sensitive abdomen. He squirmed while trying to
jump up, a gale of laugher erupting as he did so.

“Now, what was it you called me?” I asked calmly. “A
moron, was it?”

“No! I’m sorry. Just kidding.”

I resumed eating my lunch.

“Oh, I think you’re going to be

very

good for Trevor,”

Shari said, nodding. She had a satisfied look on her face.
“He needs a big strong jock like you to put him in his place.”

“And what place might that be?” I asked.

“Don’t say it,” Trevor said, shooting her a warning

look.

That brief moment when I’d dug my fingers into the

side  of  Trevor’s  tight  little  body  was  the  only  physical
contact  we  had  at  school  that  day.  I  had  practice  after
school,  and  then  I  had  to  clean  the  locker  room.  Trevor
agreed  to  come  over  to  my  house  around  six  when  I  got
home from practice.

The entire team was in high spirits. Coach seemed

to  have  forgotten  about  the  trouble  I’d  been  in  and  never
mentioned  the  pushups  I  thought  I’d  be  doing.  He  pushed
us  hard,  as  usual,  on  the  field,  and  I  wondered  if  maybe
he’d also forget about the agreement I’d made to clean the
locker room. I wasn’t that lucky.

“When all the guys are done,” he said, go get a

couple big buckets of soapy water. Scrub down the shower
walls, and then use the hose to rinse off all the soap. Make
sure all the towels are off the floor and then spray and mop
the locker area. Probably take you about forty-five minutes

to an hour if you do a thorough job. And you

wil l

do a

thorough job.”

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?

“Okay, I

got it Coach.”

“Good,” he said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get faster at it

after you’ve been doing it awhile. Between now and the end
of the year, you’ll have had lots of practice.” He could be
such a prick sometimes.

I showered myself and pulled on a pair of shorts. I

sat down on the bench in the corner and waited for the
other guys to finish up. Christian and Brian came out of the
shower, towels around their waists. Christian looked at me
but didn’t immediately say anything.

After he finished changing and Brian took off,

Christian turned to me and spoke. “Dude, I’m sorry about
earlier. I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”

I shrugged, not knowing exactly how I should

respond. “Man, I thought you had fun Saturday with Trevor.
We all were getting along…”

“I did,” he said as he sat down on the bench next to

me. “But you had to notice what I was talking about. He
does act kind of different. He’s a little bit faggy… don’t be
mad, please! I’m just sayin.”

“Okay,” I said, “but why should that matter?”

“It don’t matter to me,” Christian said. “I thought it’d

matter to you, though.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be mad at you for saying that, not

after all the things I said. But you know what? I was wrong.
Some gay guys are very normal acting. They’re totally
masculine—like my dad. Others are not so much. Look at
the difference between my dad and my father.

“But is one way any better than the other? Sure, my

father  gets  on  my  nerves  sometimes.  He’s  so  emotional
and  so  fussy  about  everything,  but  he’s  always  been  the
one  who  took  care  of  me.  I  know  how  much  he  loves  me
and Lisa both.”

“So this isn’t really about Trevor, is it?”

“Well, Trevor’s gay,” I said.

“Oh. He told you? He came right out and admitted it?”

“Yeah. Right before I told him that I’m gay too.”

“Adam, no way! Oh fuck. Dude, no wonder you

were… I feel like such a jerk. I

a jerk. You were all

worried about that shit Derek was saying because …
because of who you are yourself.”

“I’m just sorting it all out,” I said. “I guess if you’ve got

a problem with gay people, you’ve got a problem with me,

and I’d just as soon know right now.”

“I don’t man,” Christian said. He placed his hand on

my shoulder. “I really don’t, and I don’t have a problem with
Trevor either. But does this mean… Are you and
Trevor…?”

I smiled at him. “Yeah, kind of. It’s nothing official, but

I like him.”

“Cool,” Christian said. “And you were totally right

about Saturday. We did have a blast, and he seems totally
cool. I’m sorry I said he was girly.”

“It’s okay,” I said, grinning. “He is kind of girly. Girly is
fine though. I like him exactly the way he is.”

“And dude, you’re still my best friend. Nothing’s
changed. I swear.”

“Thanks man,” I said. I stood up and we hugged.

“I guess I should go and let you get your punishment
over. Unless you want me to stay and help.”

“Nah, you’re all dressed already, plus Coach probably
wouldn’t like that much. Thanks for offering though.”

“I’ll text ya later,” he said.

It wasn’t so bad being alone in the locker room, and

as I began to splash the soapy water onto the walls and

scrub them, I realized the room was like an echo chamber. I
began to sing, at first softly so that my voice was barely
audible. As I got into it, I got louder, and the lyrics to the
song reminded me of Trevor.

“I just need some body…somebody to lo-o-ove!”

I started dancing around, splashing the water and

sliding across the floor. As I spun around, I belted out the
lyrics at the top of my lungs and held my arms out, shaking
my hips. The brush became my microphone. As I spun
around I was shocked to discover that all of a sudden I was
not alone.

Trevor was standing there in the doorway, laughing
hysterically. “You are so much hotter than Justin
Bieber,” He laughed.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, embarrassed.

“Don’t stop… please.”

“What I really want I can’t find …. cause money can’t
find me…. Somebody to love!” I crooned to him.

Trevor started dancing with me and then began to

sing along, shaking his hips and stomping in the puddles of
water on the floor. I was singling lead, and he was belting
out the backup vocals. Before I knew it, we were dancing
with each other, grinding our hips and shaking our booties.
Then suddenly he was in my arms and I was kissing his soft

lips. As I pulled away, I apologized to him. “I’m sorry, I got
you all wet. What are you doing here anyway?” We both
were gasping, trying to catch our breath.

“What’s the point in going home and waiting ’til six to

go to your house? I just waited in the library until I thought
practice was over.”

“The library’s open after school?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “You really are a jock, aren’t you?

Of course the library’s open after school. For one thing,
that’s where kids go for detention. Plus, all the geeks like
me go there ’cause we know it’s the one place the jocks
won’t beat us up.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, no jock’s gonna ever beat you up.

Speaking of that, how’s your head?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he said. I glanced at it, and it looked

much better. The bruise was barely noticeable. “Are you
ever gonna tell me how this happened?”

He ignored my question. “What do we have left to do?
I’ll help.”

“Okay, I just got to get this baby hosed down and the
floor mopped. Then I’ll be done.”

“I’ll go grab the mops,” he said. I couldn’t believe he
was actually willing to help me.

“Thanks, man,” I said, when he returned. Working

together, we got done quickly. I dropped the towels into the
laundry bag on the way out and turned out the light.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Trevor asked.

“Oh right! My clothes. Duh…” I couldn’t believe I’d
almost locked the door without getting dressed and
grabbing my backpack.

“Well, two things then,” he said.

I stopped for a minute, thinking. “Yeah, my clothes and
my bag. Two things.”

“And one more thing,” Trevor said. He pushed the

door closed behind him so we were locked inside together.
It was dark, but not pitch black. The emergency exit lights
provided muted illumination. “You said you were going to
put me in my place,” he whispered.

I turned around as my jaw came unhinged. “Are you

thinking what I’m thinking?”

He stepped over to me and slid smoothly to his

knees. “How about right here?” he asked. “This feels like
my absolute favorite place ever.” He looked up at me with
his big brown eyes and pulled down the waistband of my
shorts.

That’s when I learned what heaven was.

Chapter Eight

“I’ll walk you all the way home tonight,” I said.

“No,” Trevor replied. “Halfway is good. You had a

really long day today, and tomorrow’s not going to be any
easier.”

“Oh my God, Trev, you gave me the best day of my

life. What’re you talking about?” I slid my hand into his and
came to a stop. “And I can’t wait to return the favor, if you
know what I mean.”

He knew I was talking about what he did to me in the

locker room. He grinned and looked down at the pavement.
It was so adorable the way he got shy like that. “You don’t
need to pay me back,” Trevor said. His voice was so
soothing and gentle. My heart swelled just listening to him.
“Just doing it was payment enough.”

“Trevor, you have no idea how you make me feel,” I
said. “I feel like you’re worshipping me or something.”

“I am,” he said without a hint of humor or sarcasm. “I
totally am worshipping you.” He looked into my eyes.

“Trevor…” I wasn’t sure what to say.

“You know guys like you have no idea what it’s like

for guys like me. You probably don’t have a clue that for the
past three years I’ve fantasized about you. And believe me,
it was

only

a fantasy. In my wildest dreams I’d never have

imagined actually kissing you. Doing what we did in the
locker room was like the fulfillment of one of my biggest
dreams.”

I could almost feel my ego inflating as he spoke, or

was it something else of mine that was growing? “Trevor,
you’re embarrassing me,” I admitted.

“Why? What’ve you got to be embarrassed about?

You’re hot. You’re a star athlete, and everyone loves you.
And you have a body to die for… and…and…and that’s not
the only thing you have! You’re pretty big, ya know. I almost
couldn’t handle it.”

“Fuck! Trevor!”

He leaned into me, wrapping his arms around my

waist. “Well, how was it?”

“Haven’t I told you like a hundred times already how

awesome you were? And I should be the one asking you
that question. How did the real thing compare to the
fantasy?”

“There was no comparison,” he said, shaking his head
back and forth. “It was a hundred times better than the

fantasy.”

“You’re turning me on again,” I confessed.

“Want me to do it again?” he offered. “We can go
behind that building.”

“No!” I couldn’t believe he would even suggest such

a thing. “Didn’t you just tell my father last week that we were
not even close to being ready?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes things can change really

fast overnight. Besides, I wasn’t really talking about
blowjobs.”

“Well, I definitely want to do it again, and I’m almost

turned on enough to take you up on the offer, but I want the
next time to be special. I want it to be just as pleasurable for
you as it is for me… if not more.”

There were tears in his eyes as he stared at me.
“Thank you,” he whispered.

And then we kissed.

****

Tuesday morning in second hour, which was my

English class, someone passed me a note. Somewhat
surprised, I carefully unfolded it, concealing it from the
teacher.

You were great at the game Saturday. Steph

I knew the note had to have come from Stephanie

Warren. I’d known her all my life, and we were often seated
next to each other in our elementary school classes. Our
last names both started with the same letter, so every time
there was alphabetical seating, she was right before me.

Thanks. Got lucky in the 9

inning. Adam

We continued passing the note back and forth

several more times, merely making small talk. Then I was
startled when I unfolded it and read these words:

You’ve gotten really cute. Want to go to the dance

with me Friday?

I folded the note back up and tucked it into the back

of my grammar textbook. It’d be better if I waited and talked
to her face-to-face after class. I saw her turn around a
couple times trying to gauge my reaction, but I averted eye
contact.

When the bell rang, she got up quickly and walked

around  the  room,  apparently  trying  to  avoid  me.  She
probably  was  embarrassed  and  felt  rejected.  “Steph,”  I
said,  cutting  her  off  just  before  she  reached  the  door.  “I
want to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“Why not?” I said. “Actually, I’m flattered.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but …well, I have to tell you something. I really

like you—a lot. It’s just, well. Um… I’m not really ready to
start dating anyone seriously right now. I’d love to go to the
dance with you though. As friends.”

She looked at me for a moment and smiled. “Okay,

sure,” she said. “I guess I don’t know if I’m ready for
anything serious myself. I just wanted someone to go with,
and you’re like the coolest guy I know.”

“Thanks. You got my cell number?”

We exchanged numbers, and I headed off to my next

class.

The morning flew by, and I had lunch with Trevor and

Shari again. I told Trevor I had my first counseling
appointment scheduled that afternoon. It was during sixth
hour, and I had a pass to get out of class for that period.

“You nervous?” he asked.

“No, not really. I think it’s gonna be stupid though. I’d
rather be in gym.”

“Well it’s not like you need the exercise,” Shari said.

“Actually, I do need the exercise. I haven’t worked out

since Friday. That’s the first thing I’m doing when I get
home today.”

“Oh really,” Trevor said, smiling. “Do you need any
help?”

“Come to think of it…”

“You guys are sick,” Shari said. “Don’t even tell me!”

****

Janine Carrington was the school counselor. She

was  the  only  adult  in  the  whole  school  that  insisted  the
students address her by her first name. I think the idea was
to try to make the high school kids feel like she was one of
them,  but  her  obvious  attempt  to  fit  in  had  the  exact
opposite  effect.  She  tried  too  hard.  Her  office  walls  were
covered with motivational posters of images like pyramids
and  sunsets  captioned  with  trite  sayings  such  as,
“ACHIEVEMENT—You  can  accomplish  anything  you  set
your mind to when you have vision, determination, and an
endless supply of expendable labor.”

Janine wore her hair short and spikey, died a

cranberry  color,  and  she  had  an  endless  collection  of
gawdy earrings. On the day of my appointment, they were
lightning bolts which hung down from her lobes in a way that
reminded me of the icicles that formed on the eaves of my
Grandparents’  garage  during  the  harsh  Michigan  winters.
Her  gray  business  suit  was  a  size  too  small,  and  her

breasts  seemed  ready  to  explode  from  the  silk  blouse
whose buttons looked as if they’d pop at any second. The
skirt was a midi, but it didn’t reveal too much since her legs
were  covered  by  black  tights.  And  of  course  she  always
walked  around  in  a  pair  of  stilettos  that  were  a  matching
color to her blouse and earrings.

As I took a seat in the small office, my nostrils were

invaded by the overpowering scent of Janine’s patchouli oil.

“Adam Willson!” she greeted me by stating my full

name. “How good to see you.” She motioned for me to
have a seat. “And to what do I owe the honor of your
presence in my office today?” As if she didn’t know already
why I was there. The entire school knew I’d punched Derek
Peterson and had been suspended for a week.

“Mr. Voorheis said I needed anger management

counseling,” I explained.

“I see,” she nodded, all the while maintaining the

plastic smile that was her trademark. “And what do you
say?”

I looked down at the floor and shrugged my

shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I can see why he’d feel I
might need that, but I’m really not angry.”

“But I take it you

were

angry, correct? You were

angry to the point that it erupted from you in the form of a

rather violent act towards a fellow student.”

“Yeah, I punched Derek Peterson for calling my dad

a faggot.”

“Oh, well that makes sense. That’d be enough to

make anyone angry, but the way you chose to express your
feelings may not have been the wisest way to handle the
situation. Can you think of a better way that you may have
dealt with it?”

“Ignored it,” I said, suspecting this was the answer

she wanted to hear.

“Okay,” she said, “but I don’t get the feeling you

believe that. Ignoring something isn’t likely to make it go
away, contrary to what a lot of people think.”

I wasn’t sure if she was expecting me to choose

another answer or to wait for her to go on. We both sat
there for a moment saying nothing.

“What about reporting him? You could have told your

teacher or Mr. Voorheis.”

“I’m not a nark,” I said.

“Oh, so let me get this straight,” she said as she

crossed her legs, “narking on someone is unacceptable,
but punching them in the nose is fine?”

She was starting to piss me off. “Derek Peterson is

nothing but a bully, and I’m not the only one he does this to.
Everyone knows it. He shoots his mouth off and picks on
anyone who lets him do it. Someone needed to stand up to
him, and that someone was me.”

“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” she said.

“That little outburst is an indication that perhaps you really

need some anger management counseling.” She had

baited me, trying to deliberately piss me off so that she
could prove I had anger issues.

“Adam,” she said, “I understand your unique

circumstances, and I can assure you there are many of us
here who deeply sympathize with you. It isn’t fair that you’ve
been put in this situation.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, you must have a very challenging home life,”

she said. “Having parents who engage in the lifestyle like
your father and his

partner

do …”

“You mean my dads? They are both my fathers, and
they have the same lifestyle as everyone else. They
just happen to be gay.”

“And obviously this bothers you. You’re very sensitive
about it.”

“No! I’m not sensitive about it at all. What I’m sensitive
about is assholes like Derek calling them names!”

Her lips tightened into a pucker and she leaned

back in her chair. She took a deep breath and then brought
her hands together to form a steeple with her fingertips. Her
nails were gold colored, apparently also chosen to match
the shoes, earrings, and blouse.

“Well before we can proceed, we need to lay a few

ground rules. While you’re in this office, young man, you will
refrain from using vulgar language. Am I clear?”

I scowled at her but nodded.

“Good,” she said, her voice lilting a couple octaves

higher  than  normal.  “And  secondly,  we  will  refer  to
behavioral  choices  as  ‘lifestyle’  because  that  is  precisely
what  they  are.  When  an  individual  makes  the  choice  to
engage in certain conduct, that is said to be their lifestyle.
Do you understand?”

“I will

never

agree that my dads have chosen a

lifestyle,” I said. “Being gay is not a choice.”

“It seems to me that perhaps the real issue here is

not that someone called your father a bad name. It is rather
that  you  are  quite  defensive  about  homosexuality. Adam,
you have to realize that no matter where you go in life, there
will be people who will speak up very bluntly and say things
that  may  sound  unkind.  I  don’t  condone  Derek  for  using
vulgar  language,  but  you  must  be  able  to  see  that  your

peers are going to have difficulty accepting that your father
and his friend have embraced an aberrant lifestyle.”

“Derek doesn’t know either one of my fathers,” I

looked her directly in the eye. “Like I said, he picks on
everyone.”

“Adam, we aren’t here to discuss Derek. We’re here

to discuss Adam and to figure out a way to help you control
your temper.”

Talking to this woman was pointless. It was like

talking  into  a  wall.  After  the  things  she’d  said  about
homosexuality, I was definitely not going to tell her anything
about myself. Not only would it be bad for Trevor and me,
but  it  would  also  just  give  her  an  excuse  to  condemn  my
dads  even  more.  She  would  probably  say  that  I  was  gay
because my fathers taught me to be that way.

For the rest of the hour I just sat there and listened to

her pontificate. In order to appease her, I finally agreed that
I may have an anger problem and I promised that I would
refrain from violence when I was mad. It was so stupid
because wasn’t violence bad whether I was mad or not? It
ended up being one of the longest hours of my life, and by
the time it was over, I was definitely in the mood to pump
some iron.

****

I met Trevor at the library, and from there we walked

to my house. It was a forty-five minute walk, but I figured
that’d just give us that much more time together. I could’ve
called Father for a ride since it was Tuesday and he had
the night off work.

“Trev, how come you don’t have a cell phone?” I

asked.

“Uh, I never needed one,” he said. “But I was thinking

of maybe getting one.”

“Yeah, it’d be cool to be able to text you,” I said. We

were at a crosswalk, and he started to step toward the
street just as a car was rounding the corner. I quickly
grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He winced as I did
so. “Hey, how’d you hurt your arm?” I asked, noticing that it
was badly bruised.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he brushed me off. “I must’ve fell

or something. Did you get all your assignments done for
algebra?”

“Trevor, what’s going on? How are you getting all

these bruises?” I demanded.

He exhaled dramatically. “Adam, please! You worry

too much. It’s not ‘all these bruises’. It’s just two. I hit my
head Saturday, and then yesterday I ran into a door frame.”

“I thought you said you fell.”

“Well, I fell into a door frame. Whatever.” The
crosswalk sign turned green and we headed across
the street.

“Will you tell me if something’s going on? Is someone
hitting you?”

Adam stopped, shifting the weight of his backpack

onto his opposite shoulder. “Please quit asking me all
these questions,” he said. “I like you a lot, but …”

“But what?”

“But I’ll have to stop seeing you if you don’t quit
badgering me all the time.”

“Trevor, I’m sorry. It’s just I’m worried.”

“Well don’t be … please. Now tell me about your
counseling session.”

I couldn’t believe he’d just threatened to stop seeing

me.  Whatever  it  was  that  was  going  on  must  really  be
serious. It had to either be someone that was bullying him
or some sort of problem he was having at home. Not only
did  he  refuse  to  give  any  details  about  his  family,  but  he
wouldn’t even let me see where he lived. I wasn’t going to
get  into  an  argument  with  him  though.  I  was  too  afraid  of
losing him.

“Sorry,” I said. “I won’t pressure you, and the

counseling was a joke.”

“What do ya mean?”

“She spent most of the hour telling me how
homosexuality was a behavioral choice and a devious
lifestyle.”

“You mean deviant?”

“Yeah, whatever. She thinks that the fact that my dads
are gay makes me angry and that’s why I punched
Derek.”

“No, you punched Derek because he’s Derek. He’s a
dick.”

“I know. And it didn’t even seem to bother her that
Derek called my dad a faggot.”

“What a douche bag. How many more of those
sessions do you have?”

I shrugged. “I just have them once a week until she

decides I’m all better. Whatta ya think I should do? Should I
just pretend she’s right and that I’m cured?”

“I’d tell her to suck my big fat gay dick,” Trevor said,
and we both laughed.

“I want to,” I said.

“You want to what? Tell her that or suck my big fat gay
dick?”

“The second one,” I said. He stopped walking and
turned to me with a smile.

“Really?”

“I told you last night, remember?”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Trevor said. “I know a guy

like you wouldn’t be impressed by someone like little ole
me—if you know what I mean.”

“Is that why you’re so modest? Trevor, I think you’re

really hot looking. I like small guys, and I don’t care how big
—”

His

face

was

turning

red.

“Stop!

You’re

embarrassing me.”

“Sorry,” I said. I couldn’t seem to say any of the right

things. “I’m so hungry. Want to go over to the mall for a
minute before we go home? I can get us a burger and we
can look at the cell phones.”

“Uh… I don’t really have any money.”

“It’s cool. I got some. If you want to go, I’ll text my

father and ask him to pick us up in an hour. Then we’ll still
get home in time to work out and do our homework.”

“Before Glee,” he said. “It’s Tuesday night, and I

have to watch Glee!”

“Right,” I said, nodding. I typed in the text message

to father without even slowing down. I was used to walking
and texting at the same time.

****

“I’ll get it for you,” I insisted.

“No, it’s too expensive. How do you have that kind of

money anyway?” We were at the cell phone store, and I
was holding a pre-paid phone.

“I mow lawns and stuff. When I’m not in sports, I do it

on the weekends or in the summer. Plus I get an allowance.
Don’t you get money from the tutoring?”

He scowled and looked away. “Um, there’s a check
that goes to my mom. I don’t get the money myself.”

“Seriously? That’s a bunch of bull. You do all the work.”

“Maybe I could pay you back,” he suggested.

“Or maybe not. How come I can’t buy this for you

because I want to? It’s my way of showing my appreciation
for all the help you’ve given me. And if you really want to pay
me back, you can just keep helping me clean the locker
room.”

“Okay!” he said excitedly. “Wow, that’s like the best

bargain I’ve ever made.” I think I was happier about it than
he was. Seeing his giddiness made my heart swell, and I
thought it was about the best feeling in the world.

“Come on,” I said, after I’d paid. “Let’s go eat.”

“We have to go to Burger King,” he informed me,
“cause I want a strawberry shake. And I want onion
rings.”

“Sure,” I said. “And I’ll have a double whopper.”

“You already have a double whopper,” Trevor said.

His sexual innuendo was starting to get to me. I pressed my
hand  against  the  small  of  his  back  as  we  headed  over  to
the  food  court.  We  got  our  food  and  took  a  seat  near  the
water  fountain.  It  was  the  most  secluded  table  we  could
find.

Trevor seemed far more intent upon checking out

his new phone than he was on eating. He nibbled at his
Junior Whopper and onion rings while reading through the
instruction booklet of his phone. “Oh crap, I have to buy
minutes for this.”

“I’ll buy your minutes,” I said, taking a sip of my

Coke.

“Wait, I can get 300 minutes and unlimited texting for

thirty bucks a month.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Mostly I text anyway. I don’t use

very many voice minutes.” I reached over the table and took
his hand into mine. “Are you still pissed at me?”

“Oh my God,” he said, “how could you think I was ever
pissed at you?”

“I don’t know,” I looked him in the eye. “You said you’d
have to stop seeing me if I didn’t quit bugging you.”

“Badgering me,” he corrected. “I said if you kept trying
to make me …”

“Talk about who’s hurting you. Trevor, you don’t

deserve to be abused like that. I’m just trying to help
because I care about you.”

His big brown eyes were wide as he stared directly

at me. Seeing them well with tears was heartbreaking, and I
squeezed his hand. “Aw, babe, I’m so sorry.” It was the first
time I’d ever used a term of endearment to address him,
but it just seemed natural.

“It’s my step dad,” he said. His voice was quiet and

filled with sorrow. “He gets mad when he’s drunk and hits
my mom. I only get hit when I interfere and try to protect
her.”

“Trevor!” I was aghast. “How long has this been

happening?”

“Forever,” he whispered. “Well, not really. He wasn’t

so bad at first, but he’s always drank a lot, and he gets
mean. For a while he tried to quit the drinking, but that only
lasted for like a month or something.”

“Why doesn’t your mom leave him?”

“Where would we go?” he said. “That’s her house—

or trailer, actually. If she leaves and gives it up, she has
nothing.”

I shook my head, hardly believing the tragedy he

was telling me. “It just seems like there must be a way for
her to make him leave then. Can’t she kick him out?”

“Yeah. Her and whose army?”

“Trevor, we should talk to my dad about—”

“No!” he shouted. The tears were rolling down his

cheeks. “You can’t tell anyone. Please promise me. If my
mom finds out I told you, she’ll never let me see you again.
That’s why I didn’t want you asking all those questions.”

I slid my chair closer to him and pulled him into a

hug. He rested his head against my shoulder, and I could
feel his body trembling as he cried. “I don’t want to lose
you,” he said.

“Shh. You’ll never lose me,” I assured him. “I promise

I won’t say anything. And you don’t have to worry. No matter

Chapter Nine

It sucked that Father made us leave the basement

door open when we went downstairs to work out. With him
in the house, Trevor and I couldn’t really do anything, but we
did spend quite a bit of time kissing and groping each
other. What I said about Trevor’s body was true. I wasn’t
just being nice to make him feel good. I loved how slender
and smooth he was, and even just seeing him with his shirt
off was a major turn on.

It was cute to see him try to copy me when we

worked out. It felt kind of cool to be the one teaching him for
a change. Of course, he couldn’t lift the amounts that I
could, but there was no question that he was giving it his
best effort. As I did my sets on the weight bench, he stood
there staring at me, his mouth hanging open.

“Watching you pump that iron…” he said.

“What?”

“You’re hot,” he said. “You’re hotter than a pistol.”

I cracked up laughing.

Who says “hotter than a

pistol”?

After the workout, I was hungry and thirsty. We went

upstairs for a Gatorade and I grabbed a bag of cheese
puffs from the pantry.

“Isn’t that kind of counterproductive?” he asked. “Filling
up on junk food after working out.”

“Probably,” I admitted. “But I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” he confessed, reaching in the bag and
grabbing a handful. “I love cheese puffs.”

“But I hate how they get your fingers all orange,” I said,
holding up my hand for his inspection.

“Oh, that’s the best part,” he said. “Then you get to

lick em off.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand
toward his mouth. Wrapping his lips around my middle
finger he sucked it in, sliding down slowly as he looked up
into my eyes.

I sighed and felt myself become instantly turned on.

“You are the devil,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said, winking at me.

I let Trevor use the bathroom first and waited in the

living room for him to finish showering. Then I took my turn.
When I got back downstairs, he was sitting at the kitchen
table doing his homework. “We’ve got like an hour and a
half til Glee,” he said. “So get busy.” He pointed to the chair

next to him, indicating I needed to sit.

“Yes, sir!” I said with mock submission.

“It’s about time you realized who was boss,” he said,

winking at me.

“Oh believe me, I figured that out right away.” I slid

my hand under the table and rested it on his thigh. “How am
I supposed to concentrate on homework, though, with you
sitting right here smelling so good and looking so cute?”

“You’ll manage,” he said.

Fortunately I didn’t have a lot of homework that night.

All I had to do for English was read, and I planned to do that
in bed before I went to sleep. History hardly ever had
homework except when it was time to study for a test. The
only thing I had to do was work on my algebra. As I got into
it, I discovered that it was getting a lot harder. Lucky for me,
Trevor was right there, and he helped me, explaining it to
me like I was a third grader.

“We should go downstairs and watch Glee on the

big screen,” I suggested. “I’ll make some popcorn.” Father
was walking by on his way to the refrigerator as I said it.

“I’ll make you guys some popcorn,” he said. “And then
I’ll join you.” Crap! I was hoping for a little privacy.

“Cool,” Trevor said. “Do you like Glee too?”

“Love it,” he answered.

“Me too. Of course, I’m in drama.”

“You are?” I said. “How do you have time?”

“Oh, we mainly just do everything in school during

class. When it gets closer to production time, we have
afterschool practices, though. Those won’t start til next
month.”

“What play are you doing this year?” Father asked.

“Rent,” Trevor said. “I’m playing Angel.”

“You’re playing

Angel

?” I said. “I didn’t even know

you could sing. Well, I mean I’ve heard you sing Justin
Bieber, but I didn’t know you could

really

sing.”

“My best kept secret,” he said.

“Wow, you’re braver than me,” I admitted. “I could

never get up there in front of all those people.”

“What are you talking about?” Father said. “You do

get up in front of all those people every time you play
sports. You’re a natural.”

“Well, that’s different.”

“No it’s not,” Trevor said. “It’s exactly the same. You

are confident because you know you have a talent. That’s
all that performing on stage is. It’s just another talent.”

He was right. There was no denying that singing and

acting  required  talent.  It  just  seemed  weird  to  me  that
Trevor  would  be  into  it.  He  seemed  way  too  shy.  Then
again,  I’d  seen  firsthand  how  assertive  he  was  when  he
wanted to be.

Watching television with Father and Trevor wasn’t

so bad. It was kind of cool to see how into the show they
both got. Of course Trevor was bawling when it got to the
touching ballad, and even father was wiping his eyes a little.

I walked Trevor home after the show, and this time

he let me take him all the way. He lived in a rundown trailer
park, and his house was a small single-wide.
“Embarrassing, I know,” he said as we stood in the
driveway.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said honestly. “Why does it

matter what size house you have?”

“I guess it doesn’t,” he said. “But look at yours. You

guys have a family room and a pool and everything. I just
have a little tiny room barely big enough for my bed.”

I pulled him into myself and kissed him. “I don’t care

about that,” I said. “You should text me after you’re inside. I
think your phone’s charged enough.”

“I will,” he said, leaning in for another soft kiss. “Thank
you for everything, Adam. I love you.”

I gulped as I stared down at him. Quickly he pulled
away and dashed up the steps before I could say
anything.

****

Wednesday morning, Steph was waiting for me by my
locker, talking to Christian. “Hey,” I greeted them both.

She turned around, smiling broadly. Stephanie had

golden blonde hair which she usually wore pulled back and
her teeth were a perfect pearly white. She was wearing a
tight pink sweater and a white denim jacket, and she
smelled like strawberries. “I was just telling Christian about
the dance,” she said. “Maybe we can make it a foursome.”

I looked at Christian as he raised his eyebrows at me.
“Sure, you two can ride with me and Katie.”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “It’s not like it matters. None of us
can drive, and I’m just gonna have my father drop me
off probably.”

“Come to my house,” Christian suggested. “My mom
can drive us in the SUV.”

“Oh okay, or maybe my father would… or my dad.”

“What do you mean?” Steph said. “Wouldn’t your father

“What do you mean?” Steph said. “Wouldn’t your father
and your dad be the same person?”

“Uh, no,” I got tired of explaining this all the time. “I have
two dads, and one of them I call Father.”

“Ah, okay.” She didn’t seem bothered. “Well however
you guys want to do it.”

“Okay, I’ll text you when I find out.”

Christian and I headed to our first hour class, and
Steph took off in the opposite direction. “What’s up
with that?” he asked.

“What do ya mean?”

“I thought you and Trevor…”

“Oh,” I started laughing. “No, Steph and I are just
friends. I told her I just wanted to go as friends.”

He stopped walking and grabbed my arm. “Dude, I

don’t think she knows this. She sounded like it was a real
date. She’s all excited about it.”

“Well, that’s crazy. I was really clear about it. I hope

she’s not going around telling people… Oh my God, what if
Trevor finds out?”

I pulled out my phone and texted Trevor: NEED TO

TALK TO YOU. IMPORTANT

By the time I got to class, he’d responded. CAN IT

WAIT TIL LUNCH

I replied affirmatively and slid my phone into my

pocket. If I got caught with it in class, it’d be confiscated. I
wanted to text him back and at least give him a heads up
that it wasn’t life or death, but it was too risky to try. The
hour dragged by, and as soon as the bell rang I dashed out
to the hall and texted him again.

A GIRL ASKED ME TO THE DANCE FRIDAY.

SAID I WOULD GO AS A FRIEND

I waited with bated breath for his reply. I got my

books from my locker and headed to second hour English.
Steph was there, sitting in the seat next to the one where I
always sat. Trevor still had not responded to my message.

“I’ve got to talk to you about Friday,” I said to Steph.

The bell rang before she could answer.

Steph tried passing me a note during class but got

caught by the teacher. Fortunately she didn’t have to stand
up in front of everyone and read it aloud like some teachers
would make you do. She glanced over to me and gave me
a look of apology. When the bell rang Mrs. Wellstone asked
me to stay after.

Crap!

“Mr. Willson,” she began. Mrs. Wellstone was a

middle aged, rather dowdy sour puss. She was one of my
least favorite teachers, and her class was uber boring. “I

least favorite teachers, and her class was uber boring. “I
want to congratulate you,” she said.

“You do?” I was standing in front of her desk where she
remained seated. She took off her glasses and placed
them on the blotter.

“The work you recently turned in was a remarkable
turn-around from your previous performance.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Well, my father’s been helping
me.”

“Oh yes, I know your father well. He’s an English
professor at the university.” I nodded.

“Well, I’d just hate to see you screw things up for
yourself again.”

“No ma’am. I won’t. I promise…”

“By passing notes in class and getting yourself
suspended again.”

I gulped. “I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Wellstone. I
promise, it won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not,” she said. “When I talk to your

father again, I’m hoping to be able to give him a glowing
report on your performance.”

“You will, Mrs. Wellstone. You will. No more notes, I

promise.”

“Very good then, you’re dismissed.”

I turned and dashed out the door into the hall. If I

didn’t hurry I’d be late for third hour, but I had to check my
phone. Nothing. Trevor still hadn’t responded, and I didn’t
have time to text him again. It was okay, fourth hour was my
algebra class, and I’d see Trevor then, before lunch. I got to
class just before the bell and sent him one more quick text.

SEE YOU NEXT HOUR AND WE’LL TALK

Fifty-five minutes later, when I got to fourth hour,

Trevor  wasn’t  there.  I  took  my  seat  and  waited  for  him.  I
heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  came  in  right  before  the
bell.  He  didn’t  look  at  me  but  instead  walked  across  the
room and took a seat in an empty desk on the other side.

What the fuck?

Something was terribly wrong. He must have

misinterpreted  my  text  about  Stephanie.  I  couldn’t
concentrate in class, and when Mr. Cleaver called on me, I
didn’t  even  understand  what  he  was  asking.  Everyone
laughed, and I felt like an idiot. All I could think about was
fixing  whatever  was  wrong  between  Trevor  and  me,  but  it
was so frustrating. I had to just sit there and wait for the bell.

At last the bell rang and it was time for lunch. I cut

Trevor off at the door, grabbing him by the arm. “Wait!” I
said as he tried to muscle his way around me.

“Let go of me!” he demanded.

“Trevor, will you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

He turned to me and looked me in the face. There

were tears in his eyes. “Just let me go… please.” I released
his arm and he bolted out the door. I took off down the
crowded hall behind him, trying to catch up.

“Dammit, Trevor!” I shouted. “Will you please stop?”

Finally I caught him at his locker. “Tell me what’s

wrong? Is it something I did?” I knew I was begging at this
point.

He closed the locker and looked up at me, shaking

his head. “Steph Warren is in my homeroom. She was
bragging to everyone about her hot date with you on Friday.
Then all of a sudden—as a fucking afterthought—you texted
me. Here, you can have your phone back.” He thrust it into
my hand. “I’ll stop by the office and tell them you need a new
tutor.”

“It’s not like that, Trevor,” I said. “I told her…”

“You told her that you weren’t ready for a relationship

but that you’d go with her and see what happened. I know
exactly what you told her, and so does the rest of the
school. She’s going around blabbing it to everyone.” He
turned away from me and headed down the hall.

“Fuck!” I said, the fury rising within me. I slammed

my fist hard against his locker, barely noticing the pain I’d
inflicted upon myself.

****

I couldn’t find Trevor anywhere in the cafeteria so I

ended up sitting with Christian, Katie, and some of the guys
from the team. Everyone was talking about practice. The
consensus was that Coach was going to drive us hard
today. We had another game Thursday, and this would be
our last practice beforehand. My mind was only half into the
conversation, and I spoke only when spoken to.

“Dude, something wrong?” Christian leaned over

and whispered in my ear.

I nodded but didn’t speak. Just then Steph showed

up. She walked up behind me, asked if she could join us.
Everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to scoot over.

“Sorry about second hour,” she said. “I hope I didn’t

get you in too much trouble.”

“What’d you do?” Christian asked.

Reluctantly I slid toward Christian, clearing a space

for Steph to sit. She set her tray down and took a seat on
the bench beside me. “I passed him a note,” she said, “and
Wellstone caught me.”

“Shit,” Christian said, laughing. “She make you read

it in class?”

“No, thank God. It was

very

private.”

Everyone at the table made a “woo” sound, and I felt

my face redden. They now all were laughing. “Look,” I said,
holding up my hands, “it’s not like that. Nothing is going on
with Steph and me.” I turned and looked directly at her. “I
told you yesterday, I would go to the dance with you but just
as a friend. I’m not interested…”

“Dude, are you crazy?” Brian said. “The prettiest girl

in school wants to go to the dance with you and you’re not

interested

?”

“Thanks, Brian,” she said. “That’s really sweet of

you, but I can take a hint. I know when I’m not wanted.” She
stood up in a huff and picked up her tray before storming
off.

I scowled as I looked down at the remaining food on

my own tray. Today was really starting to suck. Without
another word, I got up and disposed of my tray. I scanned
the room for Trevor, wondering where in the hell he could
be. If he didn’t come to the cafeteria, then where’d he go?

Of course! He must be in the library.

Without a second of hesitation, I bolted out of the

cafeteria and dashed down the hall toward the library. One

of the hall monitors gave me a dirty look and I slowed my
pace to a brisk walk. When I got in the library it was just like
it  always  was—eerily  quiet.  I  looked  around,  not  seeing
him.  Slowly  I  made  my  way  through,  peeking  into  each
section. At  last,  in  the  very  back  of  the  room,  I  found  him
sitting alone at a table. I stepped up quietly and sat down.

“Trevor,” I said. He had to know I was there but he

didn’t acknowledge me. “Please Trevor, I’m so sorry. I just
talked to Steph and I cancelled Friday.”

He continued to stare at the book he was reading.

At last, he replied, his voice very hushed. “You shouldn’t
have done that, because it doesn’t change anything.”

“Come on, man, it’s not even like what you’re

thinking. I am so

n o t

interested in that airheaded

cheerleader. You’ve got to believe me.”

“Then why?” He finally looked up, glaring into my

eyes.

“I don’t know why. I’m stupid, I guess. It’s just she

was so pushy, and I’ve known her forever. She was being
nice  and  telling  me  how  much  she  liked  watching  me  win
the  game  on  Saturday.  Then  she  asked  if  I’d  go  to  the
dance  with  her.  I  didn’t  know  what  to  say.  I  didn’t  want  to
hurt her feelings, so I said sure. I’d go but only as a friend. It
was so minor that I didn’t even think about it again. I wasn’t
thinking  about  Steph  last  night  when  we  were  together,

because I was too busy thinking about you…”

There were tears streaming down his cheeks. He

was breaking my heart right in two. “Please don’t cry,” I
begged him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He shook his head and wiped his eyes with the back

of his hand. “I had a rough morning,” he whimpered. “My
stepdad again. He started in on Mom when she woke him
up accidentally. It’s hard to be quiet when we’re trying to get
ready in the morning. That trailer’s so small and crowded.”

“Did he hit you again?” I asked.

“No, but he hit her. She made me leave, and I’ve been
worried all day.”

I took out his phone from my pocket. “Here, call her.
Make sure she’s all right.”

“He’ll probably answer,” Trevor said.

“Then just hang up. Hey, it’s worth a try.”

Trevor’s hand was shaking when he reached out to
take the phone from me. “Thanks,” he whispered.

I sat there patiently and listened to his end of the

conversation.  Thankfully,  it  was  his  mom  who  had
answered.  He  asked  her  if  she  was  all  right  and  then
reminded her he’d be home late. He said he had to help his
friend  clean  the  locker  room  after  practice  and  then  do

friend clean the locker room after practice and then do
some tutoring. A huge weight was lifted from my shoulders
as he said it.

I reached across the table and grabbed hold of his
hand. “Thank you for giving me another chance,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really overreacted, and I was a
real jerk.”

“No you weren’t,” I insisted. “I was the jerk.”

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

“Me too. Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

I grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him out of his

seat. He hurriedly gathered up his things and we ran out in
the hall. We weren’t sure where to go at first, but then I had
an idea. I pulled him down the hallway and into the
bathroom. Thankfully it was empty, and I ushered him into
the back stall. We grabbed hold of each other and kissed
passionately.

“I can’t wait to get you alone in the locker room,” I

whispered, growling into his ear.

“Me neither,” he said as he giggled delightedly.

Chapter Ten

Practice totally sucked, but I didn’t even care. I was

in such a good mood, knowing that when it was over Trevor
and I would be spending the evening together. No one on
the team said a word to me about the scene with Steph, but
I could tell they’d been talking about it with each other. I had
faith in Christian, believing he’d never betray me. I knew at
some point I’d have to deal with them and come clean
about who I was, but I wasn’t sure I was ready.

The way things were going with Trevor made me all

the more certain that I was really gay. I thought about how
Dad  and  Father  had  met  when  they  were  back  in  high
school. It must have been so hard for them. I’d heard stories
about how it was back then for gay people. Nobody was out
of  the  closet  and  everything  had  to  be  kept  a  big  secret.
Was  it  really  all  that  different  now,  though?  Sure,  we  had
Lady  Gaga  and  Glee,  but  there  still  were  a  lot  of
homophobes.

Fortunately I hadn’t gotten into any more scuffles with

Derek. He was steering clear of me, and I barely saw him.
The only class we shared was sixth hour gym, and it was
easy to avoid people in that class. Half the time we were
given free period, and I just hung out with my own group of

friends shooting hoops or lifting weights. Derek was more
the rebel type and had a group of friends that were more
like burnouts.

It was weird. You’d think the burnouts would be a lot

cooler toward gay people. After all, they were kind of an
outcast clique. It seemed like they’d understand what it was
like to be different and unpopular. In my case, I was one of
the popular kids already, but I knew how quickly that could
change. If people found out I liked boys instead of girls, I
might become a big laughing stock.

Trevor was the one I really feared for. It just didn’t

seem fair that he’d had such a hard life. He was so smart
and  talented  and  funny,  but  his  family  was  dirt  poor.  I
couldn’t imagine living in that tiny trailer and having a step
father  who  was  abusive  like  that.  On  top  of  that,  people
called him a nerd and made fun of him behind his back. I
remembered hearing them say things like that. Now that he
was  hanging  more  with  me,  taking  lunch  with  me  and
tutoring  me,  nobody  said  shit,  but  I  couldn’t  always  be
around to protect him.

When I got back to the gym with the rest of the team

and all the guys hit the shower, I stayed out in the
auditorium and sat on the bleachers. I texted Christian and
told him to meet me in the locker room at 4:30. While I
waited, I pulled out my English lit book and began reading
my homework assignment. It was so boring that I thought I’d
fall asleep, and it was hard to concentrate. I could hear the

guys horsing around inside the locker room.

I wondered about Christian and how he felt about

me. We hadn’t really talked since I’d told him about me and
Trevor. I wondered if he was going to act funny around me
and not want to take showers or get changed in front of me.
He  didn’t  seem  to  be  that  way.  He’d  always  been  cool
around  my  dads  and  even  had  said  he  wished  he  had
parents like mine. As if I’d been speaking of the Devil, he
suddenly  appeared  while  these  thoughts  passed  through
my mind.

“Hey dude,” he said, plopping down on the bleacher
bench in front of me. “That was pretty crazy at lunch.”

“I know.” I closed the God-awful literature book and set
it on the bench beside me. “Anyone say anything?”

“Not much. They were like surprised you didn’t want to
go out with Steph. Don’t worry though, I’m sure Brian’s
gonna hit on her.”

“Good,” I said, relieved.

“Why didn’t you shower?”

I shrugged. “I’ll be getting wet in a minute when I hose
down the locker room.”

“Oh, I thought maybe it was ’cause what you told me

yesterday.” He placed his hand on my knee. “Don’t go

acting all weird on me now, dude. Nothing’s changed.”

“Really?” I said. “If anything, I thought you’d be the

one who’d be freaky around me.”

“Don’t be a bonehead. No offense, but what you just

said is so gay. Why would I be freaky around you? We
been best buds all our lives.”

“Thanks,” I said. “It’s just kind of scary, ya know.”

“So how’s it goin with your guy… Trevor?”

“Christian, oh my God. We like… um… we did stuff
together already.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

“Like out of this world awesome.”

He laughed. “Well, I’d say it’s pretty definite that

you’re gay. What’d he say when you told him about going to
the dance with Steph?”

“God, it was such a nightmare,” I said. I ran my

fingers through my hair. It was still damp with sweat from
practice. “He found out from someone else first, and it
turned into a big drama. I had to apologize to him and beg
forgiveness.”

He shook his head and made a

pssht

sound with his

mouth. “That is so totally just like it is with a chick. I can’t

believe you’re already whipped like that.”

“Look who’s talking,” I said, slugging his arm. “You

are wrapped around Katie’s little finger.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? Guilty.”

“I’m glad everything’s cool with us, man,” I said. “You

should come over this weekend and hang out again. Maybe
the four of us can go to a movie or the mall.”

“Sure. So you’re not still going to the dance?”

“I doubt it. If it means hurting Trevor, I’d never go.”

“So why don’t you two come together? Steph will be all
right. She’ll probably go with Bri now. You and Trev can
come with us.”

I thought about it for a second and wondered what
people would think.

“If you aren’t ready to be out yet, just let people think

you two are friends. And that’s not lying, because really you
are, right?”

I nodded. “I’m gonna ask him.” I smiled to myself as I

thought about it. “I’m gonna ask Trevor out for our first
date!”

Christian held his hand up for a high five. “Good

luck, man.”

The rest of the guys started straggling out of the

locker  room.  I  looked  at  my  watch  and  realized  it  was
almost twenty past four. I wished they’d hurry. Christian said
goodbye and took off with the last group. At last the locker
room  was  empty,  and  I  hopped  down  from  the  bleachers
and  raced  inside.  First  I  got  my  buckets  of  soapy  water
ready and then stripped off my clothes, throwing them on a
bench.  I  then  jumped  into  the  shower.  I  had  finished
toweling off and slipping into my shorts as Trevor sauntered
in.

“Hey sexy,” he said, whistling at me.

I shook my wet hair like a dog and smiled at him.

Holding out my hands and standing before him as if on
display, I shouted, “I was born this way!” And then we began
to sing.

Trevor peeled off his shirt, strip tease fashion, as we

danced around soaping up the walls. He’d come prepared,
wearing a pair of shorts under his khakis. As he began to
sing I realized he knew every word to the Lady Gaga song.

“Wait!” I said. “I got this song on my phone,” I said. I

went over to my pile of clothes and dug my phone out of my
jeans pocket. When I turned on the song, it seemed really
loud and was cool-sounding due to the acoustics in the
locker room.

We both got really into it, sliding back and forth on

the tile and before long we were doing more than just
soaping up the walls. We were soaping each other. Trevor
slid into me and I grabbed him around the waist, delivering
a searing kiss to his hot little lips. I felt myself getting very
aroused as his tongue slid into my mouth and his soapy
hands slid back and forth across my back.

Without warning, I dropped to my knees in front of

him and tugged down his shorts. I wasn’t the only one who
was excited, and what he’d said about being small was not
true in the least. He might not have been my size, but
proportionate to his body, he had nothing to be ashamed
of.

Being my very first experience doing that sort of

thing, I probably wasn’t too good at it, but you’d have never
known by Trevor’s reaction. He grabbed hold of my
shoulders and moaned, squirming around and literally
whimpering. His reaction only encouraged me to continue.

When I was done, we traded positions. Once again,

he took me straight to heaven.

We spent more time cleaning the locker room that

day  than  we  had  on  Monday.  Well,  we  weren’t  exactly
cleaning  for  most  of  it.  By  the  time  we  were  finished,
though,  the  locker  room  was  spotless.  We  walked  out
together  and  made  our  way  across  the  dark  gymnasium
holding hands, and I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt
that I was in love.

****

Trevor stayed at my house until Father got home that

evening. It was his night to work, and he didn’t get in until
after eight o’clock. It was starting to get much more difficult
to study with Trevor, because I was finding it almost
impossible to keep my hands off him. It seemed as if he felt
the same way. If I wasn’t reaching under the table to rest my
hand on his knee, he was running his fingers up and down
my arm. Or we were playing footsie, rubbing each other’s
calves with our toes, or just plain holding hands.

I’m not sure why we didn’t break the house rule and

go  into  my  bedroom.  Perhaps  it  was  because  both  of  us
had a lot of respect for the fact that my parents trusted us
so  much.  Maybe  part  of  it  was  fear,  because  we  didn’t
know  exactly  what  time  Father  would  be  home.  Probably
the  biggest  reason  was  because  we  knew  that  going  into
that  room  alone  would  likely  lead  us  to  do  things  we  may
not yet be ready for.

I was happy touching and kissing Trevor. I loved our

playtime in the locker room showers. I even loved cuddling
with him and feeling his warm, smooth skin. It wasn’t that I
didn’t want more than that. It wasn’t even that I didn’t

think

about more than that. I definitely thought about it, and often.
But the pace we were on felt right. It was kind of an
unspoken agreement we had.

One thing that really made me happy was that after

Father got home and Trevor was ready for me to walk him
back to his house, he stood up and came over to me,
kissing me on the lips. It was not passionate, but very
sweet. I was pleased that he felt comfortable enough to do
it. I was sitting in a kitchen chair at the time, and after the
kiss he slid behind me, leaning forward, and wrapped his
arms around my neck. It felt so good the way he nuzzled his
chin into my neck and rubbed his face against mine.

Father smiled at us, then looked away. After a beat he
spoke. “Trevor, would you like a ride home tonight?”

“No sir, but thank you.”

“I’ll walk him home,” I said.

“Okay,” Father said. “Straight home and no dallying.
Then Adam, you come straight back afterward.”

“Yes sir,” Trevor said.

For most of the way we held hands. The streets

were empty and not well illuminated. “I won’t see much of
you tomorrow,” I said. “I have a game after school.”

“Well, I can come to the game,” he said.

“It’s an away game, and I’m not even pitching. Well, I

might have to pitch in the bottom half of the game, but
probably not. We have another home game Saturday,

though, and I’ll pitch then.”

“Oh, that sucks,” he said. “We can still have lunch

together.”

“And we have our phones,” I reminded him. “I can

even text you during the game or when I’m on the bus.
Coach doesn’t usually say anything about cell phones, least
not to the players who are benched for the game.”

“Do you ever play other positions?”

“Oh I have, but I probably won’t be this year. In Little

League and junior varsity, you play a lot of different
positions. I’ve been a catcher, a first baseman, a fielder.”

“Wow,” he said. “You’re like a jock superstar.”

I laughed, mainly because he sounded so sincere

when he said it. “I still can’t believe you can hit the way you
do. That homerun you got off me just blew me away.”

“Problem is, that’s like the only thing I can do. I can’t

throw. I’m a slow runner. I can’t catch to save my life.”

That really

was

strange. “I wonder why,” I said. “It’s

like a cruel joke almost, to be given that one talent and then
not be able to use it. Maybe if I worked with you, I could
teach you how to throw and catch better.”

He shook his head. “You’re passionate about

baseball, Adam. I’m not. I have different passions. I love to
sing and to solve equations. I like reading and memorizing
trivia. Sports just isn’t my bag.”

It kind of made me sad to hear him say it because

after he’d made such an impressive showing with his
batting skills, I thought it was one thing we had in common.
Something we shared. “Do you think we are too different? I
mean if you think about it, what do we have in common?”

“We both like Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber,” he

smiled broadly.

“Okay, music. What else?”

“And I love watching baseball, especially when

you’re playing,” he said. “Just because I’m not crazy about
playing the game doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”

“But all those other things you said—I’m no good at

them. I hate reading and I suck at math. And you don’t even

want

me on your team if we’re playing Trivial Pursuit.”

Trevor sidled up closer to me, wrapping an arm

around  my  waist.  “I  think  we  complement  each  other
perfectly.  You  make  me  feel  alive.  You  make  me  feel  …  I
don’t know… like I’m full of energy. Two people don’t have
to  be  alike  to  be  in  love.  Look  at  your  dads  and  how
different they are from each other.”

There it was again. The L word. It was the second

time Trevor had used it, but this time it just sounded so
natural. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “I love you just the way
you are.”

We stopped walking and embraced, kissing each

other for the millionth time that day. This last kiss was the
most special of all though.

****

Thursday was long and boring. All the guys on the

team were psyched about the game, but I didn’t exactly
share their enthusiasm. It was harder to be ramped about a
game I wasn’t playing in. I did see Trevor at lunch, and we
texted back and forth during the afternoon and evening. The
best thing about the day was that our team won so it was
pandemonium on the bus for the ride home.

Also, Dad had gotten home that night. He’s the one

who picked me up at the school. “Sorry I couldn’t make your
game, big guy,” he said.

“Nah,” I said, “don’t worry about it. I didn’t play, but

did

win.”

I proceeded to tell him all about the game and my

week  in  school.  I  told  him  about  what  a  bitch  Janine
Carrington  had  been  and  about  how  both  Mrs.  Wellstone
and  Mr.  Cleaver  said  they  were  impressed  with  my
progress. What I didn’t tell him was about Trevor—until he
asked.

asked.

“And how are things going with Trevor?”

I turned slightly in my seat to face him even though

he was driving. I could barely contain my excitement. “Oh
Dad, fantastic! Things are going so great with us… I’m
just… oh man, how do I even say this?”

“Crazy about him?”

“Beyond that.

Way

beyond that!”

Dad chuckled and quickly glanced over to me. “And

you’re following the rules? Playing it safe?”

I nodded vigorously. “Totally safe, and yeah we’re

following the rules. I promise.”

“And what about the bruise he had on his head? Did

you find out anything about that?” I immediately looked
away, staring out the passenger window. “Adam?”

“I can’t really talk about that,” I said, biting my lower

li p.

Please Dad, don’t ask me these questions. I can’t

betray Trevor’s confidence.

“Okay,” he said after a brief pause, “but I want to tell

you something. Adam, I know if you’ve promised to keep a
secret—especially if that promise is to someone you care a
lot about—it can be very difficult when you feel that keeping
that secret may really be putting that person in danger.”

“Dad! Please don’t… please don’t make me…”

“I’m not asking you to betray Trevor. But listen to me.

If Trevor is in danger and ends up getting hurt really badly,
then how you will feel? Don’t you think it’d be worse to risk
him being mad at you now for trying to get him some help
than to do nothing and have him get badly hurt … or
worse?”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. I could feel myself

getting emotional. “I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. Maybe I
can get him to tell someone else, or to at least let me tell
someone.”

Dad nodded his head and again glanced over at

me. “Okay, I’ll give you until tomorrow. If nothing’s changed,
I’m going to intervene.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. I wondered

exactly  what  he  suspected  the  truth  was.  Well,  obviously
someone was hitting Trevor. You didn’t just get a big bruise
like  that  on  the  side  of  your  head  from  falling  down.  Was
Dad planning to go talk to Trevor’s mom? Was he going to
call the police? If he did, then what would happen to Trevor?
Would  they  take  him  away  and  put  him  in  a  different
home… or a different school? That would totally suck. Plus,
he’d think I really had betrayed him, and he’d never talk to
me  again…  and  what  would  happen  to  his  mom?  There
were  so  many  questions,  and  every  scenario  I  imagined

Chapter Eleven

“Look,” Trevor said pulling down the waistband of

his khakis to reveal a bright red bathing suit. “I’m ready for
this afternoon.”

“Me too,” I said. We were standing in the cafeteria

next to our table. We’d just set our trays down and were
about to be seated. “And I have to ask you something.”

We both sat down. “I don’t like the way you said that,”
he said. “It sounds serious.”

“Well, it’s two things, really. One is serious—well both
are serious—but one is important. Well both are
important…”

“Just tell me!” He started laughing.

“Sorry. Okay, first things first. Tonight is the dance. Do
you want to go with me? It’d be like our first date?”

He cocked his head and smiled slightly. “Really? You
want to take me on a date?”

“If you want. I mean, I totally understand if you don’t
wanna go… after all that mess with Stephanie…”

“I

want to go,” he said. “I’d like that a lot.” He was

beaming from ear to ear.

“Cool.”

“And the second thing?”

“Trevor, you gotta promise me you won’t be mad.”

He squinted as he looked at me. “You didn’t agree to
go out with another girl did you?”

I shook my head immediately. “No… no it’s nothing

like that. Look, I’m just going to say it. My dad picked me up
from the game last night and started asking me all kinds of
questions about you and why you had that bruise on your
head.”

“Fuck,” he said, gasping.

“Calm down,” I placed my hand on his arm. “I didn’t tell
him anything. I swear.”

“But…?”

“But I think he knows, or at least he suspects. I

mean, it was so obvious that

someone

had hit you. He said

he wants to intervene to protect you.”

“Adam, you can’t let him do that! They’ll take me

away, pull me out of my mom’s home and then we’ll both be

screwed—my mom and me, I mean. Well you too. I
probably won’t be able to see you anymore.”

I sighed. “I’ve thought of that. But what am I gonna tell
my dad? He’s not going to let this go.”

“Tell him you know for sure that I fell.”

“So you want me to lie to him?”

“No! Well, yeah… I mean, what choice do we have?”

“Maybe my dad can help you and your mom both.
Does your mom want to leave that shit bag?”

“She doesn’t even know what she wants,” he said.

“He’s got her so screwed up. I think she’s scared. She
doesn’t think she’s strong enough to make it on her own.”

“Why don’t you come over after practice tonight and

talk to my dad? I’ll be with you, and we can tell him that if he
calls the police or something, it will just make it worse. He
is really smart, and he probably can help us figure
something out.”

“No, I can’t take that kind of risk.”

“Trevor, we don’t have much choice. Think about it. He
said he was going to intervene.”

“How can he intervene if he doesn’t know anything?
You just have to convince him the bruise was an

accident.”

“Trevor, I love you, and you’re in danger. The next time
he hits you, it might not just be a bruise!”

He looked around our table to make sure no one

was listening. I’d raised my voice when I got excited.
“Okay,” he said. His eyes were moist and I knew he was
about to cry. “I’ll talk to him, but you have to promise me that
you’ll help me convince him to stay out of it.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll support you one hundred
percent.”

I was glad my hand was under the table. Otherwise,
Trevor would have seen I had my fingers crossed.

****

It was crazy the way that Coach worked our asses

off that day. I would have thought he’d show some mercy
after we’d won our first two games, but it just seemed the
more we gave, the more he expected. Trevor met me in the
locker room again after practice, and we did the cleaning
together. There was no hanky panky this time, though. I
think the impending meeting with my Dad was laying heavy
on both our minds.

I called home when we were done at school, and my

sister came to pick us up. She informed us that Dad was
already outside with the grill fired up. Guess that meant we

were having a barbeque. When we got home, I asked
Trevor to wait inside while I went out to talk to Dad alone.
Thankfully, Lisa stayed in the living room with him, keeping
him company.

“Dad,” I said.

“Hey,” he turned around, holding a spatula in his hand.
“How was practice?”

“Oh geesh. Coach is a maniac.”

“Hah! Worked you hard, huh?”

“I’m tellin ya,” I said. “Hey, Trevor came home with

me, and we need to talk to you. We’re going to the dance
tonight, but he has some stuff to tell you first.”

“Oh, okay. Where’s your sister?”

“Inside with Trev.”

“Ask her to come out and take over, and I’ll be right in.”

I went back inside and told Lisa, then sat down on

the sofa next to Trevor. As I grabbed hold of his hand, I
noticed he was shaking. “Don’t worry,” I whispered.

When Dad came in, he took a seat next to the couch

and leaned forward. “So what’s up, guys?”

“Dad… um,” I began. “Last night you asked me what

was going on with Trevor, why he had that bruise on his
head.” Dad nodded, waiting for me to go on.

“It’s my stepdad,” Trevor blurted out. “He hits me
sometimes, but he hits my mom more.”

Again my dad nodded, this time more slowly. “Does he
drink?”

“Yeah,” Trevor whispered.

“I see. Has your mother tried to get any help that you
know of? Has she mentioned to you that she has any
plans to leave him?”

Trevor shook his head. Already the tears were

forming in his eyes. “She has nowhere to go. The trailer
belongs to her, and it’s all she has.”

“Man, I’m sorry,” Dad said. He reached over and

placed his hand on Trevor’s shoulder.

“Sir, please don’t report it. If you call the police,

they’re going to put me in a foster home. That would kill my
mom, and I won’t be able to see Adam anymore.”

Dad took a deep breath and rubbed his chin

between his thumb and fingers. “Well, I don’t think the
police would be able to do anything unless they were called
at the time it was happening, or shortly afterward. I do think
we need to get you and your mom away from that man,

though. Don’t you?”

“Dad, do you think there’s any way to make him

leave? Why should Trevor and his mom have to leave their
own house?”

“I don’t know, son. I think it’s possible. If we could get

them out and into a safe house of some kind, then she
could get a restraining order from the court. Then he’d be
required by law to stay away from them.”

“Really?” Trevor said, and for the first time his voice

sounded genuinely hopeful.

“I’m not an attorney, but I can call my lawyer and

have him advise us. The question is, will your mom be
willing to leave him?”

“She says she loves him, and she always makes

excuses. She says he’s a good man and doesn’t mean to
be that way, but he can’t help himself.”

“Bullshit!” I said.

“Adam,” my Dad shot me a warning look. “What do

you think, Trevor?”

“I think Adam’s right, sir. I think its bull crap. He’s

always been like that, and he’s shown no desire to change
at all. And I know he totally hates me. When Mom’s not
around he comes right out and says it and even calls me a

faggot and stuff like that.”

Dad slowly shook his head back and forth. “I wonder

if there’s a way to get your mom to come over here and talk
to us. The two of you could even stay here if you needed to.
We have an extra bedroom, and we have a pull-out sofa in
the basement.”

Or Trevor could just sleep with me.

Wishful thinking.

“I don’t know. I’ll try to talk to her about it.”

“Good,” Dad said. “Do you think it would help if I

called her? How about I call and ask her if you can spend
the night here tonight? Then I’ll suggest that she stop by in
the morning.”

“Well, I don’t have any clothes or anything,” he

answered. “I have to go home and get changed for the
dance. Mom’s not home right now anyway.”

“I got an idea,” I said. “Maybe we can eat, and then

Lisa can drive Trevor to his house while I’m getting ready
here. If she wants to, I mean. Then, Dad, you can take me
over to Christian’s house and we can pick him up on the
way. Trevor can spend the night here, and then we can go
talk to his mom before the game tomorrow.”

Trevor nodded, then looked over to Dad. “That’d

work,” he said.

“Okay, good. And I’ll try to get a hold of my friend—

the lawyer friend I mentioned. Don’t worry, Trevor, we’ll do
everything we can to help you and your mom both.”

I was so relieved after the conversation with Dad.

Trevor and I sat on the couch together and held one
another. He was crying, but it was nice to see the smile that
shone through the tears. I should have known all along that
Dad would be able to solve the problem. When just a few
hours earlier, it seemed there was no solution, now we had
hope.

Dad wasn’t nearly as good a cook as was Father,

but he did all right with the grill. For the third time that week
Trevor and I had burgers, but Dad’s homemade ones were
by far the best. We ate out on the lanai, and afterward
Trevor and I went inside. I took him upstairs to my room
(with the door open) and kissed him.

“Thank you so much,” he said as I held him tight in my
arms.

“You excited about our date?” I asked.

“Very!” he pulled back and smiled, looking into my
eyes. “I just have to figure out what exactly to wear.”

“Oh I know, me too.”

Lisa stepped into the doorway. “You ready to go,

Squirt?” Figures she’d take the liberty of assigning him a

nickname. He didn’t seem to mind because he smiled
broadly and laughed.

“Yup,” he said cheerfully. I gave him one last kiss,

and they took off.

For the next hour, after I’d showered and dried my

hair,  I  tried  on  practically  every  article  of  clothing  in  my
closet.  I  wanted  to  look  my  best  for  Trevor.  I  settled  on
boxers and baggy jeans (with a little bit of sag) and a tight
fitting  tee.  I  accessorized  with  a  gold  chain  I’d  gotten  for
Christmas the year before. With those pants, there was only
one choice of shoes: Etnies. Last but not least, I dabbed on
some of the same cologne that Trevor had said he liked.

Once I was ready, I texted Christian to tell him we’d

be on our way shortly. I followed that text with one to Trevor.
Dad was in the living room watching TV when I came
downstairs. He whistled as I entered the room. “Pretty
snazzy,” he teased.

Once we were in the car, I thanked Dad again for all

his help. I checked my phone, surprised to see a text
response from Christian but none from Trevor. Hopefully he
was too busy getting ready and just didn’t hear his phone
vibrating. Five minutes later, we were pulling into Trevor’s
yard.

“He’s not answering my text,” I said. “Let me go to

the door.” I hopped out of the car and ran up to the steps. I

leaned in and knocked on the door. I waited but didn’t hear
anyone coming to answer the door. I knocked again, this
time louder.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed

Trevor’s number. Pressing my ear to the door, I listened
intently. Sure enough, I could hear his ringtone from inside.
After four rings, it went to voicemail. I pounded harder on
the door. Something was wrong. Maybe he was still in the
shower. Glancing over to the car, I looked at Dad then back
at the door.

The door had one of those narrow horizontal

windows in it. I cupped my hands against the glass and
peered through. When I saw Trevor’s feet on the floor, not
moving, my heart rose up into my throat. I grabbed the door
handle and flung it open. “Trevor!”

The blood was everywhere. “Oh my God!” I

screamed. “Trevor! Trevor!”

I was on the floor kneeling beside him. His glasses

had been knocked off his face and lay shattered on the
kitchen floor. He had a horrible wound on the back of his
head that was still bleeding profusely.

Before I knew it, my Dad was beside me. He was

dialing  911  as  I  knelt  there  on  the  floor  holding  Trevor’s
head  in  my  hands.  He  was  unconscious  but  still  had  a
pulse.  Dad  ran  down  the  tiny  hallway  and  came  back  a

moment later with towels. “Press these against the wound,”
he ordered. “He’s still breathing but we got to stop the
bleeding. Press hard!”

Dad dashed outside, looking at the number on the

front of the trailer. He gave the address to the emergency
operator who’d finally answered, then he came back and
took over for me. “Go stand by the road and motion to them
when they come.” I just sat there frozen, as if in shock.
“Adam, now!”

I didn’t want to leave Trevor, but I obeyed. Frantically

I raced to the corner and waited. It seemed like an hour but
was probably no more than five minutes. I heard the sirens
long before they got there.

Please God, let him be okay! I

never should have let him go back to that house! I should
have got help a lot sooner!

****

An hour later, the police tracked Trevor’s mom down

at the grocery store where she worked. They’d found one of
her  check  stubs  in  a  drawer  at  the  trailer.  When  she
stepped  into  the  waiting  room  of  the  hospital,  I  knew  her
immediately  although  we’d  never  met.  Trevor  looked  so
much like her.

Dad rose from his seat and stepped over to her. “Mrs.
Ellis?”

“Where’s my boy?” she demanded. “Where’s Trevor?”

“He’s in the emergency room now, and the doctor is
supposed to be out momentarily.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s been badly hurt,” my dad said, “but he was still
breathing when they brought him in.”

“Oh my God!” she cried. She raced over to the

window and asked to be let in so she could be with him. A
few seconds later, a nurse came out and ushered her
inside.

“Dad, what’s going to happen? Is Trevor going to

die?” I was absolutely terrified. He looked so bad lying
there on the floor. At first I thought he already was dead.

Dad grabbed hold of me and pulled me into his

chest. “I don’t know, son. All we can do is pray for the best.
Trevor is such a strong kid…”

“Oh Dad!” I sobbed. “I love him so much.” I suddenly

no longer felt like the big jock hero that Trevor had
imagined me to be. I felt small and helpless, and as I lay
there wrapped in my dad’s arms, I couldn’t stop weeping.
How could something so unfair happen? How could such a
beautiful kid like Trevor go through so much tragedy?

Father and Lisa arrived a few moments later.

Neither seemed to know what to say, but the four of us sat
there together. Father came over and put his arm around
me. “Daddy, I love you,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

It was over an hour later that Mrs. Ellis came out to

the waiting room. She was drying her eyes and very
somber. She stepped over to us, and we all stood. “How is
Trevor?” I blurted out.

“They’re taking him to a room now,” she said. “He

regained consciousness.”

“Oh!” I placed my hands over my mouth as I gasped.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be okay, but he lost a lot of blood.

They did a CAT scan, and there doesn’t appear to be brain
injury. Thank God you guys got there when you did.”

“Mrs. Ellis,” my Dad said, “was it your husband who

did this to him?”

She nodded and began to weep. “Rod punched him

and knocked him against the wall. He hit him so hard, that
the back of Trevor’s head slammed into a shelf, and he was
knocked unconscious. Oh my poor baby!” Her entire body
was suddenly wracked with sobs. Had Dad not stepped
over to grab hold of her, I think she would have crumpled to
the floor. He led her over to a chair.

“Mrs. Ellis,” he said in a most soothing voice, “he’s

okay now. Trevor’s going to be okay.”

“He’s not okay!” she screamed, “and it’s all my fault!”

To be honest, I had to agree with her. She knew

what that monster was doing to her and her son, and yet
she’d done nothing to protect Trevor. It was one thing to
allow yourself to remain in harm’s way, but it was horrible to
subject your own child to such danger. Still, in spite of my
anger, I couldn’t help pity her.

“Shh,” my Dad said. “It’s going to be okay. It’s over,

and you never have to go back there. You never have to
face that man—that bastard—again.”

Father stepped forward and held out a box of

tissues. He knelt on the floor in front of her as Dad
continued to wrap his arm around her shoulder. “Trevor’s so
strong,” Father said. “He’s a trooper, and a little angel. He’s
going to pull through. You can’t change anything that has
happened, but you have to be strong for him now. You have
to pull yourself together… for Trevor.”

She straightened her posture and looked Father

directly in the eye. Nodding, she grabbed one of the tissues
and wiped her face. “You’re right,” she said. “I can’t… I can’t
lose it now. I have to be strong for him.”

“I need to see him,” I cried. “I need to see Trevor.”

Chapter Twelve

It was another thirty minutes until they got Trevor

situated in his room. While we waited, Father went to the
hospital gift shop and bought a tee shirt. He came over and
sat beside me. “Adam,” he said, placing his hand on my
shoulder, “you need to go change your shirt before you go
in there.”

I looked down and realized what he was talking

about. Trevor’s dried blood was all over me. I’d been sitting
there  all  that  time  without  even  noticing.  When  I  went  into
the  bathroom  to  change,  I  looked  at  myself  in  the  mirror.
God, I was a mess. I could have been one of those teenage
victims  in  a  horror  slasher  movie.  I  peeled  off  the  blood-
stained tee shirt and washed my face.

The new shirt was kind of cheesy but cute. It had two

frogs on it, embracing each other and a caption that read,
“Friendship is Grrreat.” I tossed the bloody shirt into the
trash barrel behind me and pulled the new one over my
head. I ran a comb through my hair and headed back to the
waiting room.

A nurse came out and told Trevor’s mom that we

could go to the second floor and wait in the pediatrics

waiting  room.  Someone  would  notify  us  when  he  was
situated  in  his  room  and  able  to  take  visitors.  As  we
headed  down  the  hall  toward  the  elevator,  Lisa  grabbed
hold of my hand.

“He’s gonna be all right,” she said. I smiled at her

and squeezed her hand.

It was weird how everyone was so quiet. We weren’t

even making small talk or chatting amongst ourselves. Mrs.
Ellis continued to cling to Dad, never questioning who he
was or why he was there, but simply accepting the strength
and comfort he offered.

We only had to wait about five minutes in the

second-floor  waiting  room  when  a  man  came  in  and  sat
across  from  Mrs.  Ellis  and  Dad.  The  man  wore  a  white
coat,  and  I  assumed  he  was  the  doctor.  “I’m  Doctor
Spalding,” he said to them. He held out his hand to her and
then  looked  at  Dad  suspiciously.  I  wondered  if  he  thought
Dad  was  her  husband.  “I’m  going  to  be  your  son’s
pediatrician.”

“I’m Trevor’s mother,” she said, “and this is …” She
looked over at Dad, realizing she didn’t even know his
name.

“Brett Willson. Family friend.”

“You’re not the step father?” he asked.

“No,” Dad said. “Definitely not.”

“Well,” the doctor said, taking a deep breath before

continuing, “I have to inform you that we are required by law
to report all cases of suspected child abuse to Child
Protective Services.”

Mrs. Ellis looked down at her lap, her eyes once

again brimming with tears. “I understand.”

“Trevor suffered a serious blow to his face,” the

doctor went on. “When you see him for the first time, it’s not
going to be a pleasant sight. He’s swollen. He has black
eyes. We had to splint his fractured nose.”

Poor Trevor! The doctor’s description was breaking

my heart. I couldn’t imagine him lying there like that in that
condition.

“Our biggest concern was that in addition to the blow

he sustained to his face, he suffered a serious contusion to
the  back  of  his  head. As  a  result,  he  lost  a  lot  of  blood.
What we were really concerned with was the possibility that
his skull had been fractured. Fortunately, it hadn’t and there
appears to be no internal injury. He required several dozen
stitches,  though,  and  he’ll  be  in  pain  for  some  time.  We
have  his  head  bandaged  and  we’re  giving  him  pain
medication.”

“Can we see him?” she said. Thank God, she finally

asked the question I was dying to have answered.

“Yes, but only two visitors at a time. Please keep

your  visits  brief—ten  to  fifteen  minutes.  He  needs  to  rest,
and  I’m  afraid  he’s  going  to  try  to  fight  sleeping  if  he  has
company. A family member can sit with him tonight, and by
tomorrow he should be able to handle regular visiting hours.
He’s conscious now and talking. Like a magpie, actually.”
The  doctor  smiled,  revealing  a  crack  in  the  wall  of
professionalism and seriousness he had surrounding him. I
wondered if it bothered him to see a kid like Trevor in that
situation. It would be difficult not to show any emotion or to
not be angry at parents who did something like this to their
children.

“Right now he keeps asking for someone named
Adam.”

“That’s me!” I said, standing up and stepping over to
him.

The doctor rose and shook my hand. Mrs. Ellis also
stood up.

“I’m Adam, Trevor’s best friend.”

“Well he keeps talking about you. All good things.”

The doctor placed his hand on my shoulder. “I told him I’d
bring you in. If you and Mrs. Ellis want to accompany me…”

I looked over to Dad who nodded his approval and

then followed the doctor out of the waiting room and down

the hall. When he led us into the hospital room, I was glad
he’d given us warning of Trevor’s appearance. To be
honest, I would not have even recognized him. His face was
swollen to about twice its size, and the bandage around his
head made him look like a mummy.

He opened his eyes and looked at me as I stepped
over to the side of his bed. He tried to smile.

“Hey,” I said, reaching down to take hold of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor whispered. “I really fucked up our
date.”

“Shut up,” I said, shaking my head. “This is probably
the most exciting date I’ll ever have.”

He tried to laugh and settled on a smile. I felt him
squeezing my hand.

“The cops were here,” he said. “Asked me lots of
questions… mostly about my stepdad.”

“Well, that’s good, don’t you think?”

Trevor didn’t seem to notice that his mom was in the

room. “I told them it wasn’t her fault. My mom, I mean. I
asked them not to take me away from her. She needs me.”

“You know, now’s not even the time to worry about all

that,” I assured him. “No matter what happens, I know for
sure he’s not going to ever hurt you or your mom again.”

sure he’s not going to ever hurt you or your mom again.”

“I like your shirt,” he said.

“Thanks.” I sat down on the edge of the mattress. I
could tell he was really sleepy. “You’re tired and you
need rest,” I told him.

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Please.”

“Trevor, I want you to try to get some sleep,” his

doctor said. “You need lots of rest right now. Tomorrow you
can have all the visitors you want.”

“Can Adam stay? Please?”

Doctor Spalding looked down at him. The man had

such kind eyes, and I wondered what exactly he was
thinking. “Okay, but for only a half hour. You’re going to be
so tired that you’ll sleep through the night, and he can come
back first thing in the morning if he wants.”

“Mom?”

“I’m right here, baby.” She stepped up to the side of

the bed. “Can you stay?”

“Your mother can stay,” the doctor answered for her.

I was at least thankful for that. As much as I wanted to
remain by Trevor’s side myself, I was at least thankful that if
I couldn’t be there, he wouldn’t be alone.

When the doctor left the room, Trevor was only

awake  for  a  few  more  seconds.  He  dozed  off  while  still
holding  my  hand.  I  waited  a  few  minutes  and  then  kissed
him  on  the  forehead.  Mrs.  Ellis  walked  me  back  to  the
waiting room.

“Thank you so much for everything,” she said to Dad.

“You shouldn’t be here alone,” he said. “One of us will
stay with you. I can wait out here in the waiting room.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’ll stay in the room with
Trevor.”

Dad pulled out Trevor’s cell phone from his pocket

and handed it to her. Along with it, he gave her his business
card. “Here is Trevor’s phone. It was on the floor. And this is
my number if you need anything. If we don’t hear from you
before then, we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you so much,” she said. She stepped over

and hugged me, then Father and Lisa. “You saved his life,”
she said to Dad. “Thank you…” He pulled her into a firm
embrace and held her for a moment.

“Okay, call us if you need anything,” he said.

I rode with Dad back home. Lisa and Father had

ridden together. As soon as we pulled out of the parking lot,
I was overcome by emotion. The reality of all that had
happened hit me, and I couldn’t help replay it all in my head.
As the tears streamed down my face, I reached over to

take my dad’s hand.

“What’s going to happen now?” I asked. “Are they

going to take him away from me?”

“I don’t know, son,” he said. It wasn’t the answer I

wanted to hear, but I knew it was honest. “We sure as hell
will try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

****

It was the longest night of my life. Every time I closed

my eyes, I could see him with his swollen face and
bandaged head. I kept thinking of the scene at the trailer.
All the blood. I’d never seen so much blood, and all from
that precious little body. It wasn’t until the middle of the night
that I finally crashed into a deep sleep. When I woke up to
sunlight shining into my window I cursed myself. I’d wanted
to get up earlier to get back to the hospital.

I looked at the digital clock and realized that it

actually was still early, not even eight o’clock. I was
supposed to have a game today, but I didn’t care. If Coach
kicked me off the team, it didn’t even matter. I wasn’t about
to go play baseball while Trevor was in the hospital.

I took a shower and got dressed before even going

downstairs. Father was in the kitchen making breakfast.
Without a word, he came over to me and wrapped me in
his arms, kissing me on the forehead. “How’s my baby this
morning?” he said.

It didn’t annoy me, surprisingly. I leaned into him,

enjoying the protective warmth of his embrace and
squeezed him tightly. “I’ve been better,” I admitted.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you. You

were very brave and strong last night.”

“Thanks,” I said. For some reason I didn’t want to let

go of him. I felt like his little boy again, which was the very
feeling  I’d  been  struggling  so  hard  to  overcome.  All  this
time, I felt awkward and embarrassed by Father’s nurturing.
The way he doted on me and mothered me was smothering
and  confining.  It  felt  like  he  was  always  in  this  tug  of  war
with me, trying to hold me back and keep me in my place
as his little boy. Now, here in this moment, I wanted nothing
other  than  that  feeling.  I  wanted  him  to  take  on  all  the
burdens and solve all the problems, and I just wanted to be
his kid again.

“I’m making you blueberry pancakes,” he said.

“Mmm,” I said. “My favorite.”

I pulled away from him and looked him in the eye. “You
were Dad’s Trevor,” I whispered. “No wonder he loves
you so much.”

The warmth of his smile melted my heart as he

nodded his head. He was holding me by the shoulders.
Though taller than him, it felt as if I was the one looking up.

“And you are Trevor’s Brett,” he whispered.

For some reason, those simple words seemed to

infuse me with determination. I felt a lot stronger and taller
and braver all of a sudden. “Yeah,” I said, nodding my head
and straightening my stance. “I really am.”

****

When I stepped into the hospital room later that

morning, I was carrying a huge stuffed Teddy bear and the
biggest box of chocolates in the world. Mrs. Ellis was
sleeping in the chair, but Trevor was wide awake, staring
up at the TV and using the remote to surf the channels.

His face lit up when he saw me. It was still swollen,

but he looked so much better. I stepped over to him and
kissed him on the lips. “I brought you something.”

“Oh my God!” he squealed. “He’s so cute!” He

grabbed the bear and hugged it tightly. I set the chocolates
on the L-shaped table that was over his bed.

His mother stirred, situating herself in her chair. “Good
morning,” she said.

“My dad’s in the waiting room,” I said. “If you want to
talk to him.”

“I do,” she said, offering me a warm smile. I think she
must have known it was my way of asking for alone

time with Trevor.

“I have some good news for you,” I said as I sat down
on the bed.

“What?” he said. “Did you win the game?”

I rolled my eyes. “Dude, it’s only ten o’clock in the
morning. The game is this afternoon, and I’m not
playing.”

“Oh yes you are,” he insisted. “You’re not gonna use

my being in the hospital as an excuse to skip your games.”
His scowl made me crack up.

“Well, that’s not what I want to talk about. There was

a lady who came to our house this morning to talk to my
dad. She’s from the social department or something.”

“The social department? You mean like Child
Protective Services?”

“Right,” I said. “Yeah, that’s it. Dad and Father had to
fill out papers. They want to be your foster parents.”

“Really? What about my mom?”

“Well, they said she might go stay at a safe house

for a while, but you could see her any time you wanted. It will
only be for a few weeks, and then my dads are going to
help her get a new house for you and her.”

“Oh my God, really?”

“But Dad said you can’t share my room with me. You
have to stay in the guest bedroom.”

Trevor grinned. “Don’t worry, I can be very sneaky.”

“I know,” I agreed. “That’s what I thought too.” I had to

kiss him again. He needed to brush his teeth, but I didn’t
care. “The lady said they were gonna try to push everything
through by the time you are out of the hospital.”

“When will that be?” he asked.

“Maybe Monday or Tuesday,” I said.

At first he smiled but then got very serious. “I hope my
mom’s going to be okay.”

“She will,” I assured him. “Dad said that they would

almost automatically take you out of her home until they
completed an investigation and had a hearing and stuff.
This is the one way we can keep you two together and also
keep her safe.”

“What about Rod?” he asked. This was the first time I’d
heard Trevor use his stepdad’s name.

“He’s in jail now, but they think he will be out by the end
of today. All he has to do is pay some money or
something to get out.”

“Post bail,” Trevor said.

“Right. That’s why they want your mom to go to the

safe house. There will be a court order that says he can’t be
near her or you, but since he doesn’t have any other place
to live, they think he’d try to come back to your house.”

Trevor was nodding his head. “He will. The restraining
order is just gonna make him madder.”

“Why did he do this to you?” I asked. “What made him
hit you this time?”

“He didn’t want me to go out. He was so drunk.” His
eyes were moist as if he were going to cry.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay. He already knew I was gay. Both of

them have known a long time. Like I told you before, when
he gets drunk he always calls me a faggot and stuff. Gets
real mean. When I told him I had a date, he started sayin
stuff, making fun of me, but I just ignored him. He tried to
come into my bedroom, told me if I was a faggot then I had
to suck his dick…”

“What?”

“I pushed him away, and he slapped me. Somehow I

managed to get around him and ran out to the living room.
He was right behind me, though. I spun around to face him

and he hit me hard, right in the face, and I fell backwards
against the bookshelf. Next thing I remember is waking up
here.”

“Oh my God, Trevor. Did you tell all this to the police?”

“Yeah. And to mom. She said she’ll never go back to
him, no matter what.”

“Thank God. Finally.”

I wanted to take him in my arms right then and hold him
so tight. I held his hand instead. “I love you,” he
whispered.

“I love you too.”

“And you’re going to the game,” he said. “And you’re
going to pitch me a no-hitter.”

I shook my head. “Father already called coach.”

He leaned over and picked up his phone from the
stand. “Call him back.”

“Trevor!”

“Do it. If not, I’ll never help you clean the locker room
again.”

“I don’t care about that…”

He scowled at me and gave me a pouty look. Even
with his face swollen he looked adorable.

“Okay, okay! But after the game I’m coming back here
and we’re having a hospital room pizza party.”

“Deal,” he said, “to celebrate your victory.”

“And your recovery.”

Chapter Thirteen

Every strike I delivered had Trevor’s name on it. I

kept thinking about what he’d said, how he wanted me to
pitch him a no-hitter. Not only did I grant his request, but I
also hit a triple when I was at bat in the fourth inning.

Trevor was reading when I walked into his room

around six o’clock that evening. They had apparently
changed the dressing on his head wound, and his entire
head was now no longer bandaged. “Aw, you don’t look like
a mummy anymore.”

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. “Well? What’s the news?
Did we win?”

I tried to look as sad as I could, giving him my best
pouty face.

“You are so not a good faker,” he laughed. “You kicked
their ass!”

“Damn right we kicked their ass,” I said, thrusting my
fists in the air. “Yeah!”

Christian, Katie, Brian, and Steph stepped into the
room behind me, carrying pizza and sodas.

“Woo hoo!” Trevor shouted.

“I pitched a no-hitter, just like you wanted,

and

I got a

triple.”

“Awesome!” he said. I stepped over to him and
grabbed hold of his hand.

“How you feeling?”

“Much better. I want out.” We all laughed. “The back of
my head hurts, and it sucks that I can’t breathe through
my nose.”

“How long do you have to have that thing on your
nose?” Christian asked.

“Fourteen days,” he said. “And they have it packed

with gauze so I have to breathe through my mouth. I hate it. I
wonder if Derek went through this?”

“No,” I said. “His nose wasn’t even broken. When he

came back to school, he wasn’t wearing a splint. You know,
it’s weird, ’cause when I found you yesterday, I didn’t even
notice your nose. I was so worried about the back of your
head.”

“I’m just glad you did find me.”

“Trevor, we brought you something,” Katie said. She
held up a gigantic Get Well Soon card.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed. “I never saw a card that
big. Where’d you get that thing?”

“There’s a store that sells them at the mall,” she said.
“And we passed it around at the game and had
everyone sign it.”

“Wow!”

“Dudes, I’m starving,” Christian said. “Break out the
pizza.

For the next hour we had our pizza party. Christian’s

mom was coming back to pick them up around seven. I
promised to stay with Trevor until visiting hours were over at
nine. His mom had been there for the entire afternoon but
he sent her home to sleep. She called the jail first to make
sure that Rod hadn’t yet made bail.

After the gang left, Mrs. Ellis showed up. She told

Trevor and me that she was going to be moving into a safe
house. She promised to come see Trevor every day at the
hospital and told him they were still waiting to hear from
CPS on whether or not Trevor would be able to stay at our
house. They’d have to make a decision before he could be
released from the hospital.

“Dang, I wanted to get out tomorrow,” he

complained.

“Maybe Monday,” she said. “I doubt if they’ll decide

anything on the weekend.”

It was almost more difficult leaving Trevor that

second  night  than  it  had  been  the  night  before.  I  knew  he
was going to be alone in that room, and he was far more
alert.  I  reminded  him  he  could  call  or  text  me  at  any  time,
even  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  promised  to  return  in
the morning.

Sunday I did spend the whole day with him. He was

up walking around and we took a stroll around the pediatric
floor.  Seeing  all  of  the  little  kids  who  were  sick  or  injured
was very sobering. Trevor said he didn’t think he’d ever be
able  to  handle  a  job  like  that,  taking  care  of  those  little
angels.  It  was  too  heartbreaking.  I  had  to  agree.  Trevor’s
friend Shari showed up with a big bouquet of flowers. I had
texted  her  from  Trevor’s  phone  to  tell  her  about  what  had
happened.  I  spent  a  good  part  of  the  day  doing  my
homework, and we watched reality shows on TV.

Monday was excruciatingly long. In second hour,

Steph asked me about Trevor. It was obvious by now that
he and I were more than just friends. She seemed cool with
it. At lunch I sat with my team members and invited Shari to
join us. Although it was sad that it took something like this
to  bring  people  together,  I  was  glad  to  see  that  everyone
was seeing Trevor as a kid just like them who’d suffered a
terrible  tragedy.  The  announcement  they’d  made  at
Saturday’s  game  when  they  passed  the  card  around  was

really touching, and the whole school seemed to be on his
side.

It sucked that I had to clean the locker room by

myself after practice, and I didn’t get home until around
5:30. Lisa drove me up to the hospital to see Trevor, and
as we walked in, he was beaming ear to ear.

“I have great news,” he said.

“Really? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Wanted to surprise you. I get out tomorrow, and I can
come to your house!”

I looked at Lisa. “Did you know about this?”

She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I promised
not to tell.”

“Oh my God! Trevor, that’s so awesome. I rushed

over to him and kissed his lips. I wanted it to be more
aggressive, but I had to be careful because of his nose.

“It’s hard to do French kissing when you can’t

breathe through your nose,” he complained.

“Oh God…TMI!” Lisa exclaimed and we all laughed.

Father got permission from Mr. Voorheis for me to

take the day off school Tuesday, and I stayed home to greet
Trevor and help him get settled. We weren’t allowed to pick

him up from the hospital. CPS had to check him out and
bring him to our house.

Instead of studying or doing any sort of productive

activity, Trevor and I played video games all day. I didn’t
even care about working out. I just wanted to spend every
single second with him.

At one point, Trevor paused the game and looked

around. “Adam,” he said, “will you pinch me?”

“Pinch you? What are you talking about?”

“I feel like you should pinch me so I know I’m not

dreaming. I can’t believe I’m here, living in this house with
you. After being in that trailer park and not even having a
phone or Internet, this place is like a mansion.”

“I hope you can stay a long time,” I said. “Or at least I

hope you end up getting a much nicer place when your
mom gets back on her feet.”

“Yeah,” he said. He sounded excited. “And it’ll be

just the two of us, and you can come over and spend the
night. I’ve never once had any friends stay over at my
house. Never had a birthday party or anything like that?”

“Really? That totally sucks.” I couldn’t imagine going

through your whole life without a birthday party. “We should
have a big party for you this year.”

“My birthday was in January,” he said. “We missed

it.”

“Oh. Well you know, my dads are having an

anniversary party in a few weeks. You’ll be here for that. My
Grandparents are coming from Michigan and my Aunt
Elaine will be here. She’s not really my aunt, but she’s been
Father’s best friend his whole life, so I’ve always called her
Aunt.”

“She’s from Michigan too?”

“Nah, she lives in London now. She went over there on
vacation one time and met some guy. They got
married and she stayed.”

“It’s cool you have all this family,” he said.

“Hey, I just realized something. We’re totally alone in
this house. Father’s at a meeting; Lisa’s at school; and
Dad’s at work.”

Trevor grinned evilly. “And what’s that mean.”

“It means I can take advantage of you.”

“You’d do that, even when I’m crippled like this?”

“You’re not crippled,” I said dismissively. “You have

a band aid on your nose. There’s nothing wrong with
your…” I cleared my throat and looked down at his groin.
Reaching over, I pressed my palm against him and began

Reaching over, I pressed my palm against him and began
rubbing.

“But… but… Adam, how can I do anything for you

when I can’t even breathe through my nose. French kissing
is hard enough, how could I ever do…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I said, leaning into

him and kissing his neck. “Baby, I’ll do all the work, and you
just lay back and enjoy.”

“Fuck!” he said, letting out a big sigh. I grabbed his

shoulders and eased him back against the sofa cushions.
Sliding down off the couch, I knelt on the floor between his
legs.

“Welcome home,” I whispered, as I took him in my

mouth.

****

Living with Trevor was like having two versions of my

Father in the house. Father was the real Father—the grown
up one—and Trevor was the min-father. When I met Trevor,
I knew he was a fussy person, but I didn’t realize just how
anal he could be.

I was the type who threw my dirty clothes on the floor,

left the toothpaste cap off, and didn’t even think of putting
down the toilet seat when I was done. Of course, Lisa was
the only one who ever bitched about that last one.

Trevor, on the other hand, hated disorder. He picked

up his clothes. When he had a snack, he immediately took
his dish out to the kitchen, rinsed it off, and put it in the
dishwasher. He kept his bedroom neat and tidy at all times.

As odd as it may have seemed, I didn’t ever mind

any of these characteristics about Trevor. The same exact
things used to bug the hell out of me about Father, but with
Trevor, I found them endearing. The more of him I saw, the
more I loved. And the more time we spent together, the
better person I strove to be.

Trevor was back in school that first week, in spite of

his  broken  nose.  He  insisted  that  he  continue  to  help  me
clean  the  locker  room,  and  walked  home  together  every
time  afterward.  I  got  caught  up  on  my  algebra,  and  he  no
longer  officially  had  to  tutor  me.  He  still  was  available  to
help me when I needed it though.

Both of us got really into helping my parents prepare

for their anniversary party. They’d rented a hall and helped
decorate it. They had a huge cake with two grooms on top
standing under an archway adorned with a huge “25” above
them. The tablecloths and hanging decorations were all
silver, and even my dads wore silver tuxedos. They hired a
band, and the hall had a huge dance floor.

The week of the party was spring break, which was

a time our family usually went on vacation. In fact, I think the
reason my dads originally got married that time of year was

because of the fact Father was a teacher, so the wedding
fit within their schedule. Having the party was just as fun as
going on vacation, though, especially since so many family
members and friends were going to be around.

I’d always loved my grandma, probably because she

spoiled me to death. She seemed more partial to me than
she  was  to  Lisa,  I  think  just  because  she  liked  boys.
Grandpa  was  closer  to  Lisa.  They  were  the  only
grandparents  we  had  because  my  father’s  parents  had
passed away before I was born.

Father had a brother that had died of a heart attack

in his early forties. I didn’t know him too well. Dad had an
older sister named Brittany, and I wasn’t really close to her
either. She was going to be here for the anniversary party
along  with  her  husband  and  kids.  Their  son  Peter  was  a
year older than me, and I didn’t like him too much. People
said  he  looked  a  lot  like  me,  but  I  always  thought  he  was
kind  of  a  jerk.  He  was  sort  of  cocky.  They  also  had  a
daughter  named  Patti  who  was  around  Lisa’s  age.  There
was  just  something  about  my  Dad’s  family,  the  way  they
always  named  their  kids  similarly,  using  the  same  first
letter.  Brett  and  Brittany.  Peter  and  Patti.  All  the  cousins
were the same way.

Most of the people had made hotel reservations, but

Father absolutely insisted that Elaine stay at our house.
Normally they’d have just used the guest bedroom, but
since we now had Trevor, Father asked me if I’d give up my

room for a few days and sleep on the pull out sofa in the
basement. I was more than happy to oblige. I thought about
suggesting that I just sleep with Trevor, but I knew that idea
would never fly.

My favorite thing about Aunt Elaine was her thick

British  accent.  Father  said  he  always  knew  Elaine  would
marry  an  English  lad  because  she  was  obsessed  with
Great  Britain.  In  high  school,  she  devoured  all  the  English
literature, watched all the English movies, and half the time
spoke in a British accent herself. I saw pictures of her when
she was young, and she was quite large. To be blunt, she
was fat.

Before Aunt Elaine got married, she went on a

serious diet and lost tons of weight. Within a couple years,
she’d gained it all back. Finally she had one of those
surgeries where they placed a band around her stomach. I
guess it makes it so you can’t eat as much food and thus
you lose weight. It worked really well for her, and the last I
saw her she was svelte.

The other friend of Father’s that we only saw

occasionally was a guy named Joey. He was tall and lanky,
kind of a nerd. Father said it was all cool, because he
ended up becoming a very wealthy nerd. He invented some
sort of computer chip which he sold to a Chinese company.
It was some device that went inside of vending machines.
Joey was Father’s best friend all the way through grade
school, and he ended up marrying another one of Father’s

friends named Carly. When I was only five, Carly was
diagnosed with lung cancer and passed away within a few
months of the diagnosis. The whole thing was devastating,
and I barely remember any of it.

“So why’s your father acting all weird and

everything?” Trevor said. He had me cornered in the
laundry room, whispering so he wouldn’t be overheard.

“Oh he’s just excited. My Aunt Elaine’s coming

today, and he always gets like this.”

“Hm, I thought maybe I said something to piss him

off. I got up at five o’clock this morning to get a drink of
water from the kitchen and he was on his hands and knees
scrubbing the floor. When I spoke to him, he just grumbled.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t snap at you and tell you to

get the fuck out of his kitchen. He goes on a freakin
cleaning rampage whenever we have overnight guests.
He’s paranoid or something.”

“Oh… well, I guess maybe I can understand that.
Sometimes I get a little anal myself.”

“Ya think?” I said sarcastically.

He placed both hands on his hips and glared at me.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shut up,” I said, “and kiss me. You make me all horny

when you get mad like that.”

“No,” he said with defiance. “You think you can go

insulting me like that and then just turn around and kiss me
and miraculously I’m gonna forget everything—”

I grabbed hold of him and forced my lips against his,

driving my tongue deep into his mouth. After a brief
struggle, he gave in, wrapping his arms around my neck,
and returned the kiss just as passionately.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s exactly what I think.”

Starry eyed, he gazed up at me and I playfully

reached down to swat his ass. “Just stay out of Father’s
way, and you’ll be fine. If he wants your help with something,
believe me, you’ll know it.”

“Why? Does he get bossy?”

“I don’t know. Do

you

get bossy?”

“Did you get your homework done and your room
cleaned?” he teased.

“I rest my case. Yes, he gets fucking bossy, just like
you.”

It was Trevor’s turn to grope me, but he grabbed the
front of me instead of the rear.

“Mmmm,” I said, smiling. “Too bad we’re not home

alone.”

“Drop your drawers!” he ordered.

He reached behind him and made sure the door

was shut, then shoved a clothes hamper in front of the door.
Three seconds later, my pants were around my ankles and
Trevor was on his knees. My father was in the next room,
too busy cleaning to notice.

****

When Aunt Elaine and her husband Andrew spotted

us at the airport, she let out a shriek. Father leaped up from
his seat as Elaine came charging across the terminal
waiting room. She grabbed him tightly in her arms, lifting
him right off his feet. “Baby!” she cried, “Oh my God, it’s so
fucking good to see your skinny little ass.”

Trevor and I were both laughing as Andrew just

stood there with a big grin on his face. After about three
minutes, she finally released father and allowed him to at
last gasp for air. She then turned to me, and I knew it was
my turn.

“Aunt Elaine!”

She threw her hand over her mouth. “Oh merciful

Father!” she cried. “My good Lord in Heaven, have you ever
grown. Gorgeous! You’re just absolutely the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen.” She wrapped her arms around me

and gave me a fierce hug. I was taller than Father, so she
couldn’t sweep me off my feet as she’d literally done him.

“And this one? Who’s this little guy?”

“Aunt Elaine, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend

Trevor.”

“Your

boyfriend

?” she said. A huge smile crossed

her face as she clapped her hands. “You know, I always
had a feeling about you. I just knew it!” She stepped over to
Trevor. “Sorry, but yes you do have to hug me. If you’re
going to be a member of this family, you have to put up with
obnoxious, loud-mouthed Auntie Elaine.”

On the drive back home, Elaine never stopped

talking. “Dammit,” she said, “I should’ve had a cigarette
before I got in the car.”

“You haven’t kicked that nasty habit yet?” Father

asked.

“Don’t even start,” she threatened. “Yes, I know. And

yes, I’m aware of dear Carly … I know all that. But if I try to
quit now, I’m going to be right back to my 350 pound fat
self.”

“Elaine, you look fabulous,” he assured her.

She was sitting in the front with Father, while Andrew

and Trevor shared the middle seat. I was right behind them,

leaning forward to try to listen to everyone talk. Andrew and
Trevor had struck up a conversation about some math shit
that I knew nothing about. He was an engineer or
something.

When we got back to the house, the whole scene

was repeated, this time with Dad and Lisa. After Aunt
Elaine went out to the pool area to have her cigarette, she
returned and announced she had gifts for everyone. “Well,
you two will have to wait for your anniversary,” she said to
my dads. “But I do have something for the kids.”

For Lisa she had a beautiful emerald necklace, and

Lisa was so overcome with emotion that she immediately
began  bawling.  Of  course,  then  Elaine  cried,  and  then
Father.  I  looked  over  at  Trevor,  “Please,  don’t  even  start.”
He  turned  away  and  grabbed  a  tissue  from  the  counter
behind him.

I about shit when I opened the package she handed

me. It was an entire collection of all the newest video
games, including my favorite, Final Fantasy. “Thank you so
much!” I shouted, as I ran over to hug her.

Trevor’s jaw about came unhinged when she

reached in her suitcase and pulled out a gift for him. “How’d
you even know about me?”

“Oh, I have my ways,” she said, winking. “I talk to Jeff

almost every day online. Believe me, I know all the dirt.”

When he removed the wrapping and discovered he

was holding a state of the art graphing calculator, he about
shit his pants. “Oh, oh, oh! Oh wow! Fucking Wow!”
Everyone was laughing their ass off.

Some of the other family members arrived later that

day,  including  Grandma  and  Grandpa  and  Aunt  Brittany.
We  had  a  very  full  house  by  six  o’clock  that  evening,  and
Dad was out on the lanai firing up the grill. My cousin Peter
had  found  the  stereo  and  was  put  in  charge  of  managing
the  music.  Lisa  was  keeping  his  sister  Patti  occupied.  I
was  concerned  about  Trevor,  because  I  knew  he  had  a
tendency to get shy around a lot of people, but he seemed
to be managing fine, mingling with everyone. I pretty much
did the same.

Trevor had been seeing his mom about three times

per week. She’d gotten a new job working as a receptionist
at the law firm my Dad had recommended to her. She was
still  at  the  safe  house,  but  was  planning  to  get  her  own
home within a month. I dreaded the day that Trevor had to
leave,  but  I  knew  it  was  going  to  be  best  for  them.  She’d
already filed for divorce. My parents loaned her the money
for  the  lawyer’s  retainer  fee.  She  wasn’t  at  the  house  that
night of the barbeque, but she planned to attend the actual
anniversary party.

It was cool to spend time talking to Grandma. She’d

also brought gifts for Lisa and me. Clothes, of course. The

one nice thing was that she always got the best of the best,
the most expensive designer name brands. It didn’t matter
how much she brought with her, either. She still insisted that
she take us out shopping at least one afternoon during her
visit and showered us with everything imaginable.

Grandpa was filthy rich, but he no longer worked. He

was  getting  up  there  in  years.  Although  he  was  close  to
eighty  he  still  golfed  every  day  and  took  every  opportunity
he could to express his political opinions. He was a staunch
Republican,  and  Dad  was  constantly  running  interference
when  he  started  to  spout  off.  Father  was  a  diehard
Democrat,  and  a  political  debate  between  them  was
certain disaster.

After everyone ate, Peter, Patti, Trevor, and I went

downstairs to play video games. Peter was nearly as good
as me, and my competitive side started to take over. I was
really  intent  on  beating  him,  especially  since  Trevor  was
watching. When Andrew came downstairs and told me that
I  was  wanted  in  the  kitchen,  I  at  first  didn’t  want  to  leave.
Reluctantly,  I  handed  my  controller  to  Trevor  and  allowed
him to take over for me.

When I got upstairs, Grandpa and Grandma were

leaving  for  the  night,  heading  back  to  their  hotel. At  first  I
thought  this  was  the  reason  I’d  been  summoned.  I  kissed
them  goodbye  and  watched  them  leave  and  was  then
itching to get back down to the gaming.

“Come out here and sit down,” Dad said. “We need

to talk to you.”

He pointed to a chair at the table, next to where my

sister was sitting. I looked around the room and realized
that my dads, Aunt Elaine, and Aunt Brittany were the only
ones present.

“We need to have a family meeting,” Dad said,

“because there’s something important we need to talk to
you about.”

Dad and Father sat down, taking chairs on the other

side of Lisa. Brittany and Elaine sat across from them. Lisa
and I were sandwiched in between the adults, and all of a
sudden I was starting to feel a little nervous. This was really
weird.

Father spoke first. “When your dad and I fell in love

and got married, we decided at a pretty young age that we
wanted to have a family. We both wanted children very
badly, but as you can imagine, back in the 1980s this
wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for a gay couple.”

Dad took over. “We talked about several different

ways to have kids. Adoption. Foster parenting. Hiring a
surrogate mother. Each option had advantages and
disadvantages.”

“We wanted to have a biological connection with our

children,” Father said. “And we decided, as you already

know, to use surrogate mothers.”

“Mothers?” I said. “I thought we had the same

mother.”

“Well, no. That’s why we’ve called this meeting.

That’s what we want to talk to you about. We always told
you that there may come a time when you wanted to know
about your biological mother. We knew this would happen.
It’s only natural.”

“Before Lisa was born, we didn’t know how many

children  we  would  have.  We  were  diving  into  unchartered
territory,” Dad said. “But we wanted the surrogate mother to
be  someone  we  knew  very  well.  We  wanted  her  to  be
someone  we  loved  and  trusted,  someone  that  would  be
willing to be a part of your lives without having any issues
with your father and I having full custody and raising you as
our own children.”

“Dad, what are you saying?” I asked. “Can you just spit
it out? Just tell us!”

They looked at each other--Dad and Father--and both
took a deep breath. “Lisa,” Father said, “your
biological mother is Elaine.”

“Oh my God!” she shouted, tears immediately
brimming in her eyes.

“And Adam,” Dad said, “Aunt Brittany is your birth

mother.”

“Really?” I stared at her in shocked disbelief. “But…
but how?”

As I sat there, my mouth agape, both Lisa and

Elaine had risen from the table and were embracing each
other and crying. I just sat there, though, unable to move.
The whole thing didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t possible
for Aunt Brittany to be my mother. I’d always known that
Dad was my biological parent. How could that be if his own
sister was my

mom

I pushed back my chair, holding my palms up and

shaking my head. “No, this isn’t right. Dad, you’re my
biological father. She’s your sister. She’s my biological
aunt, not my mother!”

Dad had stood up and was stepping around the

table.

“No!” I said. “This … this is a joke, right?”

“Son, I

your father. I’m your

real

father and I

always will be your father. Just like Jeff is your sister’s real
father. We both are your parents who raised and loved you
since you were born!”

“So… so you’re saying, you’re not my dad,

he is

?” I

pointed to Father, who by this time had tears in his eyes.

“He is the one who provided the sperm donation, but

we both always have been your father, and we always will
—”

“No!” I screamed, now standing. “He’s not my father!

I look exactly like you! Everyone’s always said that.” I was
angry at myself for crying as I felt the hot tears streak down
my cheeks. “This … this…” I raced around the table and ran
up the staircase, slamming my bedroom door behind me
as I threw myself on the bed and cried.

Chapter Fourteen

It felt as if in an instant my entire world had come to

an end. The one defining characteristic that made me the
person  I  was,  had  been  torn  away  from  me.  The  rug  had
been pulled out from under me, and it seemed as if now I
was  lying  flat  on  my  face.  Over  the  past  few  years,  when
Father had irritated me, embarrassed me, or even at times
infuriated me, I always knew in the back of my mind that it
didn’t  really  matter.  He  wasn’t  the  one  who  was  really  my
dad. Dad was my Dad.

I looked just like Dad. I acted like him. I talked like

him.  We  had  all  the  same  tastes  and  all  the  same
behaviors.  He  was  the  one  person  on  this  planet  that  I
idolized the most. My hero. And now—now I found out that
all  of  it  had  been  a  lie.  It  was  just  a  fraud  that  had  been
perpetuated.

A part of me was trying to be rational, urging me to

calm down and think about everything logically, but I
couldn’t stop myself from feeling the raw pain. I felt cheated
and lied to. I felt like it had all been a very calculated
deception.

But how was it that Lisa could be so unfazed by it all.

When the news of her biological mother was delivered to
her, she welcomed it with open arms. It seemed like she
did not even seem bothered to learn which of our parents
was her biological dad. All she cared about was that she’d
suddenly gained a mother.

I’d never been close to Brittany though. I always

thought she was nice enough, but she just was never a part
of  my  life.  Yes,  she  seemed  to  always  be  there  for  the
important  occasions.  At  the  family  Christmases  in
Michigan, she and her family were there. They always got
us  gifts.  There  were  always  lots  of  hugs  and  kisses  and
storytelling.  I  didn’t  dislike  her;  I  just  didn’t  know  her  that
well.

And if Father was really my father, how was it that I

had all of the athletic talent like my dad. Lisa was the one
with the brains like Father. Lisa and Father were the neat
freaks. They were the emotional ones who cried at all the
sad movies.

But Dad was so different. Dad was like me. We

were the jocks. We were the tough guys. We were the ones
who were fiercely competitive and who liked to kick ass on
the football field. We left our dirty socks on the bedroom
floor and scratched our balls when they itched.

Lying there with my head buried in my pillow bawling

my eyes out, I didn’t feel so tough. For the first time, I felt
exactly like the son of my Father. Weak. Emotional. A

crybaby.

When I heard the door open behind me I didn’t

bother turning around to see who it was. I was sure it would
be Father. He would tell me how much he loved me and
how it was all going to be all right. He’d say it didn’t matter
—it made no difference whatsoever. Both of them loved me
equally, and they both were equal parents to both of their
children.

The soft touch against the center of my back told me

I was wrong about who had come. “Trevor,” I whispered. I
rolled over and looked at him. His face was filled with
compassion.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he placed his palm

against my chest. Sitting on the mattress beside me, he
began to rub his hand back and forth. “I know how much you
love your Dad. I know what he means to you.”

“I love them both,” I said. And I meant it.

The slow nod of his head told me he understood.

“But you were always proud of the fact that all the things you
like most about yourself are the characteristics you got from
your Dad. You were a natural. It was in your genes.”

“Yes.”

“What if I told you that I see a lot of wonderful things
about you that I know you didn’t get from your dad?”

“Like what?”

“You’re a straight A student in school. Practically a
genius.”

I laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I was failing two of my
classes.”

“Which you got caught up within two weeks after you
sorted out your identity crisis.”

“Trevor, that doesn’t prove anything, and it certainly
doesn’t make me like Father.”

“You pretend like you have no emotions, but really

you do. I saw the tears in your eyes when I first told you I
loved you. I know that you clung to your father when you
were hurting most and cried in his arms.”

“That’s not—”

“And you have his temper. You do realize you get that
from your Father, not your Dad.”

“No, that’s not true.”

“It is true. Your Father is emotive and very

expressive of his feelings, and that includes anger. You’re
exactly the same way. And you are proud of the fact that
you aren’t anal like your father, but really you are. Look at
your dresser drawers and how the socks are all arranged.

Look at your CD collection. Look at how you keep your
books so neatly lined up on the bookshelf.”

“Trevor, stop! Are you trying to make me feel

worse?”

“Listen to me,” Trevor said as he reached up to wipe

the tears from my cheeks. “You have two amazing parents
who love you with their whole hearts. I would give anything
to have either one of them for my dad.”

My eyes grew wide as the words sunk in.

“You were blessed with beautiful characteristics,

some  that  you  got  from  your  dad  and  others  from  your
father.  You  learned  all  about  sports  from  your  dad.  You
learned  how  to  be  competitive  and  how  to  fight.  You
learned  how  to  stand  up  for  what  you  believe  and  defend
the ones you love. You learned how to mow the fucking lawn
and  how  to  barbeque  the  best  steak  this  side  of  the
Mississippi.” I had to laugh as he smiled down at me.

“And… you also learned how to be sensitive. How to

express your feelings. How to nurture and care for others.
You learned how to give of yourself in a way that is so utterly
unselfish that when I think about it, my heart could just burst.
You are gentle and compassionate and generous.

“Embrace the gifts you’ve received from both of your

parents, Adam. Never forget how lucky you are.” He leaned
forward and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll be downstairs

kicking your cousin’s ass in Assassin’s Creed.” He then got
up and slowly left the room.

****

An hour later, when I was finally brave enough to

show my face again, I crept out of my room and headed
back down to the living room. The only people there were
my dads. Dad was sitting in his favorite chair, and Father
was curled up on the end of the sofa. They each were
having a glass of wine. They both turned and looked up at
me, and each of them gave me a warm smile.

Slowly I stepped toward him, hanging my head,

partially out of shame and partially because I knew that to
look him in the eye would reduce me again to tears. I slid
beside him on the sofa and wrapped my arms around him.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I love you.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he rocked me back

and forth, “Baby, we never meant to hurt you.”

Soon Dad was on the other side of me, and I

couldn’t decide which of them I wanted to hug more. I
ended up taking turns.

Elaine had already gone to bed. Brittany and her

husband had gone back to the hotel. Their kids were
spending the night at our house and were downstairs
playing video games with Lisa and Trevor. I was content to

Chapter Fifteen

“It’s so cute the way Father is when he gets nervous

like that,” Trevor said. I was thinking how cute

Trevor

was,

and I liked that he’d started calling my dads “Dad” and
“Father”.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s an amazing man. Hopefully
someday I’ll be half the man that he is.”

Trevor laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“I’d say you’re about ninety-eight percent there
already.”

I pulled him closer and kissed his forehead. “The hall
looks spectacular, if I do say so myself.”

“True dat.”

Father, who was at the front of the hall giving directives
to the caterers, turned and spotted us, motioning us
over.

“Uh oh,” I said, “come on.” I grabbed Trevor’s hand and
led him across the room, weaving our way around the
tables.

“

What

are you boys doing just standing there? You’d

better go get changed. We’re going to be having guests
arriving any minute.”

“Father, it’s only 5:15 and the party doesn’t start until

seven. Plus, we need a ride home in order to change.”

“Oh,” he said. He stopped fidgeting for a moment

and looked at us, then glanced around the room. “You boys
truly did a marvelous job on the decorations.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said.

Just then we heard someone behind us. “Jeff, my

man!” Trevor and I turned around, and I saw Uncle Joey
standing in the doorway.

Father raised his hand and his face lit up. “Joey!” He

rushed over to meet his friend and they embraced, slapping
each other firmly on the back.

“That’s Father’s best friend from school. You’d like

him. He’s an engineer, knows everything about math.”

“Oh really?” Trevor said.

We waited for Father and Joey to get done greeting

each other, then they stepped back toward us. I rushed over
and hugged Uncle Joey who was a good six inches taller
than me. I’d always remembered him as being tall and
skinny and a little bit dorky looking, kinda like Bill Gates.

I was thankful that Joey had arrived. It made it easier

for  Trevor  and  I  to  sneak  away  from  father.  Standing
outside  a  couple  minutes  later,  I  texted  Lisa  and  asked
where  she  was.  I  told  her  we  needed  a  ride  back  to  the
house. She said she was on her way from the grocery story
back to the hall and would pick us up.

****

“I’ve never worn a tux before,” Trevor said excitedly.
We were in my bedroom, getting ready to change.

“You’re gonna be hot. Actually, hotter than a pistol.”

“Hey! That’s what I say,” he objected.

I wrapped my arms around him and whispered in his
ear. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

“But what if Dad catches us?”

“Dad’s over at the hall. Like do you think Father’s
about to let him out of his sight?”

“Good point,” Trevor said, nibbling on my ear. I

moaned and then reached down to grab his shirttail and
pull it up over his head. He also wasted no time undressing
me.

After the shower, I was running my fingers across

Trevor’s smooth buttocks. We were back in my room, and

he was trying to ignore my continuous affections. “You
haven’t got enough of me yet?” he said.

“Never,” I leaned down and kissed the back of his
neck, grinding my groin into his backside as I did so.

“You just did that in the shower,” he complained.

“So…”

He turned and kissed me. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Not as much as I love you.”

“Wanna bet?”

We kissed again, rather passionately. “Baby, we gotta
get ready,” he said, pulling back from me.

“Ah, okay,” I conceded.

Turning away from each other we each slipped into

our underwear, then I got our tuxedos out of the closet and
laid them across the bed. Trevor was behind me, standing
next to the bedside stand. “Are you reading this?” he
asked.

I looked over and saw he was holding my book,

The

Grapes of Wrath

. “Yeah,” I said. “I love these silk shirts.”

“Since when do you read John Steinbeck? Is it for your
lit class?”

“Nah,” I said. “I just started reading it and liked it. I’ve
been reading a lot more lately.”

“Interesting. Yeah, I love those shirts too.”

We proceeded to dress each other.

****

Trevor and I were assigned to the door as greeters.

It was kind of cool to hear all the oohs and ahhs from so
many people who’d known me all my life. It was weird how
adults reacted when they noticed that kids were growing
up. Like, did they not think it was going to happen? Did they
think that babies would remain babies forever?

When Trevor saw his mom come in, he rushed over

to hug her. She looked really nice, her hair was
professionally styled and she was wearing a beautiful,
flowing gown. They stepped over to me, and I hugged her.
“Mrs. Ellis, you look fantastic,” I said.

“Why thank you,” she said. “And you don’t have to be
so formal. You can call me Sharon… or Mom, if you
like.”

“All right, Mom,” I said, hugging her again.

Right behind her was Uncle Joey.

“Have you met my father’s best friend Joey?” I asked.

She turned and smiled at him demurely. “A pleasure,”
she said, holding out her hand.

“Uncle Joey, this is Sharon Ellis, my boyfriend Trevor’s
mom.”

They seemed to take to each other immediately and

accompanied one another inside the main hall. I looked
over to Trevor and shrugged. “Wow,” I said, “do you think it
might be love at first sight?”

“Man, I don’t know. I never saw her react that way.

Not to a guy…”

By seven-thirty the place was packed. People were

mingling  and  getting  drinks  from  the  bar  until  finally  Dad
and  Father  came  in.  As  they  entered,  people  began  to
applaud.  They  greeted  a  few  people  and  made  their  way
across the room to take a seat at a large table in the front.
Once they were seated, Trevor and I headed over and sat
down  at  their  table.  Elaine  and  Andrew  were  also  at  the
table along with my sister Lisa and her date.

Dad stood up and stepped over to a podium that

was positioned on a platform nearby. He greeted everyone
and thanked them for coming, and of course there was
more applause. When he sat back down, the servers
began to bring out the salads.

The first part of the evening was rather formal.

Everyone was pretty much focused on their meals, but once
the desserts appeared, Father stood up and made his way
to the podium. He also thanked everyone for coming and
said a few words about his husband and about our family. It
was very moving, and several people were wiping their
eyes as I heard quite a few sniffles behind me.

After Father spoke, it was Dad’s turn. His speech

was more lighthearted. He told the story of how he and
Father had met in high school. The way he told it was self-
deprecating and very amusing. My heart swelled with pride
as he recounted the speech he had given at the sports
banquet when he came out to the entire school.

Elaine was next to speak, and she had the entire

audience in stitches. She talked mostly about Father and
what it was like to grow up in northern Michigan in the
1980s.

Several other people spoke, and Lisa even said a

few words, and then finally I knew it was my turn. I grabbed
Trevor’s hand under the table and squeezed it before I
pushed my chair back, took a deep breath, and rose to my
feet.

As I stepped up to the podium and looked out at the

crowd, my heart began to pound and my knees started to
shake. I hadn’t realized how terrifying it would be to get up
in front of all these people.

“Good evening,” I said. “My name is Adam Irwin-

Willson, and I’m the son of Brett and Jeff. When I was born
fifteen years ago, things were a lot different. It technically
wasn’t even legal in the state of Florida for gay couples to
adopt children. It wasn’t legal anywhere for gays to get
married.

“I’d like to say to my dads now, thank you for not

giving a shit about any of that.” A roar of applause erupted.
After the crowd quieted a bit, I took another deep breath
and continued.

“I know what a lot of people think, even to this day,

that a family isn’t really a family unless there is both a father
and a mother. Well, common sense tells us otherwise. We
all know of many different kinds of families. Some have a
single father or a single mother. Some have two mothers or
two fathers. Some may not even have an official parent at
all. A family isn’t defined by how many husbands or wives it
may have. A family is defined by the amount of love that is
present.” More thunderous applause and a few cheers.

“If you’d have talked to me a few months ago about

my  family,  I’d  have  probably  given  you  a  much  different
opinion than I have today. I may have said to you that I have
one  parent  who  acts  more  like  a  dad  to  me  and  another
parent  who’s  more  motherly.  And  if  I  were  to  have  been
completely honest with you, I’d have had to admit that I was
a little bit embarrassed by that. A lot embarrassed actually.”
The room had grown eerily silent.

“My viewpoint today is much different than that

though. Maybe the reason that I’ve changed my opinion is
because I’ve started to grow up a little. Maybe it’s because
I’ve fallen in love myself. I’m not exactly sure, but I’m pretty
confident that the way I felt before was wrong. I don’t see
my dad as being the husband of our family and my father as
being the wife. I see both of my dads as being both my
dads.

“I am so lucky! I have two parents who are so strong.

They are strong enough to live their lives authentically and
be who they are. They are strong enough to stand up for
what they believe and to be proud of the successful people
that they are.

“I’m so lucky! I have two parents who are so

compassionate. I’ve watched them help those around us in
need, generously and selflessly giving of themselves.

“I’m so lucky! I have two parents who are sensitive.

They taught my sister and me to never be ashamed of our
emotions. They taught us that it is okay to feel things and to
express these feelings freely.

“I’m so lucky! I have two parents that are intelligent,

successful, ambitious, brave, kind, forgiving, and the
absolute best role models that any kid could ever ask for.

“I’m so lucky to have a part of both my dads inside

me, and I’m so proud of both of them. I love them with all my

me, and I’m so proud of both of them. I love them with all my
heart. Thank you.”

Before I could sit down, my dads surrounded me,

one on each side, embracing me, as the entire audience
rose to their feet with an ovation. I hugged each of them
tightly, allowing my tears to freely flow for all to see.

****

“Well, this is our last counseling session,” Janine

Carrington said as she crossed her left leg over her right
knee. “Do you feel we’ve made any progress?”

I looked at her, thinking carefully before I responded.

“Honestly, Janine, no I don’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “But I must

beg to differ with you. I think we’ve made tremendous
strides. You’re now excelling in all your classes. There’ve
been no more fights, and you seem very happy and even-
tempered. I think we’ve come a long way.”

“But that has nothing to do with us and these

counseling sessions,” I said.

“Well, I’d like to think that I at least contributed to

your success,” she said, squaring her shoulders and sitting
upright in her chair.

“No offense to you,” I said, “but to be honest, Janine,

it’s people like you who contribute to failure.”

Her mouth dropped open as she reached up to lay

her hand across her chest.

“You’re a bigot. You believe that it’s okay for people

to discriminate against others who are different than them.
You go around putting labels on people, saying they are
deviants who live aberrant lifestyles, when the real problem
that you have is not the style of life that they live but rather
the people that they are.

“I love both of my parents—both of my dads. I love

them very much and I’m proud of who they are. I don’t care
if their lives offend you or anyone else. They should have
the right to love each other, get married, and have a family,
just like everyone else. And I won’t stop fighting for that right
until there is unequivocal equality or until there is not a
breath left in my body.”

She stared at me, shocked speechless. “I think I’ve

had enough of these so-called anger management
sessions. If anything, they’ve shown me what exactly it is
that I have to be pissed about.” I stood up and walked out of
the office while she sat sputtering behind.

****

The auditorium was packed for the closing night of

the  school  play. Although  I’d  seen  the  entire  performance
earlier  on  opening  night,  this  was  the  first  time  our  entire
family  was  able  to  be  there  together.  Father,  Dad,  Lisa,

Sharon, and her new boyfriend Uncle Joey, sat together
three rows back from the stage.

Every time I heard Trevor sing, my heart soared. It

was so appropriate that he had the role of Angel, for he truly
was one. At first it kind of cracked me up seeing him in
drag, but he took on the role so naturally. His graceful
movements and the softness of his mannerisms made him
a perfect fit. I had to remind myself it was only acting when I
saw Tom take him into his arms and kiss him passionately.

The funeral scene was excruciating and about

ripped my heart out. All was good in the end, though, when
Trevor took center stage for his curtain call. The entire
audience cheered and screeched far louder than I’d ever
heard at any sporting event.

I was so proud of him. I was proud of my entire

family.

Chapter Sixteen

Winning the game was bittersweet. The season was

over, there would be no more practices and no more
sessions cleaning the locker room. It was the very same
day that Trevor’s mom got her new house with her fiancé’
Joey, and I knew what that meant. Trevor would be moving
out.

Although winning a championship baseball game is

a major accomplishment, it never got the attention that high
school basketball and football trophies tended to garner.
After the game we all headed back to the school. Several
of the guys had bottles of non-alcoholic champagne which
they popped in the locker room, and everyone was
spraying it all over the walls and all over each other.

We were excited, not only because we’d won, but

also because school was now out. It was Saturday, and the
day before had been our last day of classes. At this point,
my sexual orientation was no longer an issue. All the guys
on the team knew who I was. They all knew Trevor and
accepted that he was my boyfriend. Sure, there were times
I would hear a homophobic comment or an off-colored joke,
but as quickly as it occurred, someone would rise up to call
out the offender.

As the team finally finished horsing around, high-

fiving each other, and swearing they’d all stay in touch over
the summer, the guys began to disperse. I made my way
into Coach’s office before I took off.

“Coach,” I said.

He turned and looked at me. I could see the pride in
his eyes. “Amazing. You were simply amazin today.
Good job, son.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure…shoot.”

“I know I’ve completed my punishment and don’t

have to clean the locker room any more. But …uh… would
it be okay if I did it one more time today, for old times’
sake?”

He cocked his head and gave me a quizzical look.

“Well, that’s a new one,” he said. “But sure, I don’t see why
not.”

“Thanks coach. I’ll lock up on my way out.”

After all the guys had left, I got my soapy water ready

and stripped down to my shorts. Trevor and I had finally
gotten smart and brought in a boom box cd player which I
kept in the bottom of my locker. I had it plugged in out in the
hallway, away from the water spray. As the music started to

hallway, away from the water spray. As the music started to
pump, I began to soap down the walls, singing along and
dancing to the beat.

“You are such a queen.” I turned and smiled at Trevor
who was standing in the doorway watching me.

“Takes one to know one, baby,” I shouted.

He quickly peeled off his clothes and started dancing
along with me.

“Oh my God,” I said, “I cried so hard at the play last
night when you died.”

“Aww, poor baby,” he said as he slid across the

floor. “Don’t cry, I’m right here in the flesh, and my heart still
beats for you!” He was bumping and grinding behind me.

I turned around and pulled his slippery body into my

soapy torso. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Three blocks,” he said. “I’ll be just three blocks

away, and really, it’s going to be even hotter. This way you
can sneak out at night and crawl through my bedroom
window.”

I grinned. “I like how you think. I’m glad for you… for

both you and your mom.”

I bent down and delivered a searing kiss on his

pouty lips.

“Faggots!” Trevor pulled away from me and turned

around.  We  both  looked  up  and  saw  Derek  Peterson
standing in the doorway. When he stepped in, we realized
he  was  not  alone.  He  had  a  couple  friends  with  him,  and
Derek  was  wielding  a  baseball  bat.  “Well,  what  have  we
here?” he said. “A homo dance party?”

I pushed Trevor behind me and stepped forward.

“Derek, get out of here!” I demanded.

“Or what?” he said. “You gonna try to break my nose

again? You didn’t do a very good job the first time. And ya
know what? I never paid you back for that… let’s say we
settle the score right now.”

He stepped toward me, raising the bat into a swing

position.  I  held  my  hands  out  and  stepped  backward.  He
moved quickly, swinging the bat hard. I just barely avoided
its  trajectory.  The  floor  was  slippery,  though,  and  as  I
jumped  backward,  I  slipped,  falling  flat  on  my  back.  He
raised the bat again, this time ready to bring it down on my
torso. I tried to roll away but suddenly found myself against
the wall. I knew I was dead meat.

As he was about to bring the bat down, I opened my

mouth to scream. I had to warn Trevor to run. But all of a
sudden I heard the loud crack of fist against bone and
looked up as Trevor’s fist made direct contact with Derek’s
big ugly nose.

He wailed and dropped the bat behind his head.

The blood squirted out and he reached up to immediately
cover his face with both hands. Trevor grabbed the bat from
the floor and charged toward the two goons who’d
accompanied Derek. He pulled the bat back into swinging
position and whacked the one dude square in the nuts. He
doubled over instantly in pain, screaming at the top of his
lungs. The third guy raised his hands in the air. “I give up!”
he shouted and quickly turned and ran out the door.

I was then back on my feet and grabbed Derek by

the scruff of the neck, shoving him out the door behind his
friend. “Move it!” I said to the dude with the busted balls. He
hobbled toward the door, still yowling in pain.

Trevor turned to me and nodded proudly. “I’d call that a
homerun!”

“And I think you really did break his nose this time.”

Trevor winced as he shook his hand. “Yeah, and
maybe my fist.”

Epilogue

Aunt Brittany lives in Texas, and I now go to visit her

for at least two weeks every summer. We’ve gotten really
close actually, and come to find out, I have a lot in common
with her son Peter. He’s also a pitcher for his high school
baseball team, and he’s great at playing video games.

I’ll be graduating this June, right alongside Trevor.

We’ve been a couple for over three years now. He seems
to get cuter—and smarter—every year. He’s so smart, in
fact, I asked him to help write my graduation speech. I’m
not sure how I got to be valedictorian of my class, what with
me being such a dumb jock and all.

We stopped sneaking in each other’s windows

when we were seniors. I finally had to have a heart to heart
talk with Father and explain to him that yes, Trevor and I
were sexually active. With some reluctance he agreed to
revoke the closed-bedroom-door rule.

Joey and Sharon have been married for over two

years now. Trevor really likes his step dad, and their mutual
love of math and science provides a bond that I’ll never
quite be able to understand.

Both of us plan to go to college. Trevor’s going into

engineering and I plan to major in English Literature. I know
—I know. What kind of a job am I going to get with that
degree? I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to be a college
professor like my Dad… or I mean my Father.