"Outed, Day 1"
The silence was deafening. I sat up in bed and looked around my room; shadowed in the morning gloom. Everything looked the same, yet how could it? My whole life had changed. My eyes burned and my nose felt stuffy.
I climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I tried to make as little noise as possible, scared that the slightest movement would bring my father busting through the door to confront me again. I turned in the bathroom door and looked at my clock. It was 5:20; I sighed in relief. He was gone. He had to be. I switched on the light and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I gasped at the image staring back at me. I looked like I had been punched in the face. Both eyes were swollen and red. Dark crescents shown under them. I turned on the water and scrubbed my face with soap. After rinsing away the soap, I ignored the mirror and turned on the shower. The heat of the water seemed to loosen the tension, and the weariness flowed with the water into the drain.
I dressed for school. I had to maintain and to present a front. I had until this afternoon, when I was sure the confrontation would begin again. Lost in thought, I almost jumped through my bedroom window when the clock radio sounded next to my bed. My heart was beating louder than the music as I turned it off. "Get a fucking grip Brent!" I finished dressing, brushing my teeth and slowly looked at my reflection. It was once more me. I looked no different than the morning before.
I crept down the stirs and into the kitchen. There was a note on the refrigerator from my mother that said she'd talk to me after school. It was signed, "Love Mom." The buzzer at the front gate sounded and I almost ripped the note in half. "If you keep this up, you're going to go crazy!" I chided myself. I walked to the intercom, "Yeah? Brett?"
"Hurry up Brent, we're going to be late. Buzz me in." My eyebrows must have merged in with my hair when Steve's voice came over the speaker. Without a word, I pressed the button and went to the front door. When I opened it, I saw his car coming up the road and he was alone. I waited as he pulled in front of me. He turned off the car and stepped out of the driver's side. "Are you ready? Brett said that he couldn't give you a lift this morning, but he'd meet you at the flagpole when he got to school. What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"Ah...nothing Steve. I was just expecting Brett. He never called to tell me you were going to pick me up. Give me a second to grab my stuff." I ran back into the house and gathered my backpack. "Why didn't Brett call me?" I grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut as I left the house. Steve had returned to his seat and I jumped in. "When did he call you?" I asked.
"Just about 10 minutes ago. You were damned lucky I forgot my English Lit book or you'd be walking to school. He said something about having to take his brother to school because his mom had an early appointment." Steve drove down the drive and out the gate. He looked the same and I could not see any indication that he might know something had happened out of the ordinary. I smiled and said to myself, "How could he? Maintain Brent!" Picking me up for school was hardly out of the ordinary. Brett and he seemed to share the duty equally. Brett did have to take his brother to school sometimes, but he had always called to let me know, or at least told me the day before.
Steve spoke the whole way to school, but nothing he said required more than a "yeah" or "hum" kind of reply. As he pulled into the parking lot, I looked to the flagpole and saw Brett waiting for me. He stood up when he recognized Steve's car and started walking in our direction. Seeing him released more tension in me and I felt relief in knowing that he was not avoiding me. I was being stupid. He loved me; I could feel it. When the car stopped, I jumped out, yelled thanks to Steve, and ran to meet Brett.
"Hello Brent. Sorry I couldn't pick you up this morning, my brother." He said with a shrug of his shoulders. There was just a slight catch in his voice, but it rang with the strength of a gong in my head. He was scared. I could feel it. Before Steve walked past us, he asked if Brett was going to give me a lift home. Brett said he would and Steve went into the school.
It took every ounce of strength in me to keep from grabbing Brett and hugging him right there in front of the school. He looked lost and frightened. I looked around then said, "I love you Brett. I'm so sorry for the way my father acted last night. Him and my mother fought and yelled at each other until I finally fell asleep. Everything will work out. I swear it will as long as you and I hold it together. We can hold it together can't we?" Oh God say that we can. Please say it.
"Of course we can Brent. I love you and that hasn't changed, nor will it!" He moved closer to me, then seemed to realize where we were and stepped back. A smile spread on his face and a blush formed. I blushed too and warmth spread inside as I looked at this guy standing in front of me. He wanted to express his love as much as I did. We would maintain. "Um...do you think your dad will tell mine? I was so scared when I got home that every time the phone rang, it would be your dad wanting to talk to mine. I finally yelled at my sister after she got her fifth call. My mother thought I had flipped out."
"I don't know. I really don't." We started walking towards the entrance. "I've never seen him so mad before. We'll just deal with it together. My mother is on my side. At least she understands. Maybe between the three of us, we can work it all out."
Brett swallowed hard and said, "As long as we're together."
With both of our fronts in place, we walked into the school. The normal morning activity was taking place in the commons area. Little groups were formed up, talking about who knows what and I spied our group. We walked towards Shelby and Shelly and hugged our respective 'girlfriends'. When Shelby and I released each other, she gave me a wide-eyed look, then looked over at Brett. She knotted her brows together, and then said "Later. We'll talk later, won't we?" It wasn't a question. She was simply stating a fact. How did she do that?? The first warning bell rang and we broke up the group. I walked with Shelby and Brett with Shelly. I gave him a final look before we parted and he winked at me.
Lunchtime arrived in a blink of an eye. My mind was consumed with thoughts of after school and facing my parents. I was also concerned with Brett and his parents. After all, his and mine had formed a friendship, and I wasn't so sure my father wouldn't tell Brett's. But we'd deal with it. While we sat talking at lunch, I saw Coach Koch enter the cafeteria and look around. When he looked towards me, he narrowed his eyes and then turned and walked out the doors to the patio. "What was that?" I thought, then got dragged back into the conversation the other guys were having about the football game this coming Friday. Killeen had two high schools. Ellison was the newer; the other was Killeen High. There was a rivalry between the two that seemed natural considering we both shared the same school district. We would be playing against them at Leo Buckley Stadium; their stadium at that. Ellison did not have a football field big enough to accommodate the spectators, as well as the teams. It would be a great game that would draw almost every high school family and half of the soldiers on Ft. Hood to watch. The Ellison Eagles vs. the Killeen Kangaroo's. We were all excited. Brett and I, almost enough to forget our problems at home. But not quite. Lunch ended and we headed off to complete the rest of the day before football practice. Brett and I shared another glance as we parted ways. We both were dreading going home.
I met Brett in the locker room. We talked as much as possible, surrounded as we were with the rest of the team. The entire buzz in the locker room was about the game this weekend. Eric called to me and I left Brett to go and talk to him. Eric wanted to work out the play we were cooking up, I sat next to him on a bench and we started discussing it. The coach hadn't come in yet, so we were all just hanging out until he made an appearance.
The coach came in and said he needed to meet with the team before we went out to practice. A general sigh echoed across the room as we prepared ourselves for one of his bitching sessions. The coach could never get everyone completely quiet, so a low murmur still floated around the room as everyone found a bench or space on the floor to sit. I looked for Brett and he was across the room talking to Tony, and as if he could sense me looking at him, he turned and smiled.
"Alright your morons! Settle down! I've got a problem that I need the entire bunch of you to help me with and I want your undivided attention." The coach looked to his left where Rick and Chuck were still talking, "I said everyone Mr. Slats and Tiller!" They both jumped when he said their names and faced him. Now the whole room fell into complete silence, as we looked at the coach expectantly. He had never asked for our help in solving ANY problem in the past. He had solutions, not problems. The coach took a deep breath.
"I've learned that we have a couple of players that seem to have started their own private game on the sidelines." Everyone looked around the room, not quite comprehending what the coach was talking about. "It's going to be the rest of the teams job from this moment on to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't continue their game. I won't have the reputation of this team destroyed by a couple of fags!" I froze.
"Brent! You and Brett get your asses up front!"
I couldn't move a muscle in my body. Every ounce of energy drained from my limbs as I heard a gasp rise around the room from the team. I managed to look in Brett's direction and he had an autistic look on his face as he looked forward, never glancing for more than a second on anything or anyone. I noticed other eyes looking at me, and some at Brett, in utter shock. Every movement seemed to play in slow motion as my mind tried to register what had just happened and been said. It was impossible. Brett and I had NEVER let one word or action that could be seen as anything but friendship show. Even less so than others, with their little mock pats on the ass or rough housing in the showers.
I have to get out of here! What am I waiting for? I was blinking my eyes in rapid succession, to clear the spots that were blurring my vision. I'm sure less time had passed than I thought, when I jumped up and sprinted out of the locker room. I had to escape was my only thought. I guess I was lucky, in hindsight, that practice for the day was just going over plays and we weren't required to suit up. I was still in my school clothes as I ran to the parking lot. I saw Steve getting into his car, he must have decided to ditch swim practice, and I ran towards him and jumped in the passengers seat.
"God damn Brent. You scared the fuck out of me." Then he noticed the look on my face, "WHAT'S WRONG?? WHAT'S HAPPENED??"
"Drive Steve!! Just drive!! Take me home, please!!" I pleaded as he looked around outside of the car to see what had chased me or scared me into acting like I was. I heard him start the car and peel out of the parking lot. We headed down Elm to Trimmer, and then onto Hwy 190, before he took the time to ask me what was wrong again.
"Brent, talk to me. What the hells happened??"
"BRETT!! OH MY GOD, I LEFT BRETT!!" I started to yell and tears began to stream down my face. I startled Steve so much by my outburst, that he jerked the steering wheel, and then pulled off the highway to the median, slamming on his breaks. I looked at him through tears and saw his hands grasping the wheel so tight, they were white. I couldn't breath and started gasping for air, grapping my throat. Steve acted and jumped out of the car, ran to my side and jerked the door open. He pulled me from the car and I fell to the ground. The car prevented any of the other drivers from noticing what was happening, or I'm sure we'd have had company to provide emergency assistance. I was having an anxiety attack. Steve was frantic and ripped my shirt open as he kept asking what he should do. I grabbed his arm and just held tight, trying to draw oxygen into my lungs threw the narrow opening that my throat had left from it's constriction.
"BRENT! Oh God man, what do I do?" Tears were running down Steve's face, him in near shock from lack of knowing how to help.
With a deep gasp I drew a breath of air into my lungs and began panting. Slowly, I was able to draw more air into my lungs and my breathing began to ease. Steve had sat me up and had his arms around me, rubbing my hair back from my face and tilting my head to open my air passage. I looked into his eyes and saw the terror he must be feeling. "I'm...I'm ok now Steve. I'm ok. Just give me a minute." Having spoken for the first time in at least 10 minutes, the blood rushed back into Steve's face. He hugged me tight.
"Brent I was so scared man. I thought you were going to die and there was nothing I could do. I was so scared." He cried still as he held me.
After I had recovered enough, he sat me back in the passengers seat. I asked him to take me home and he started the car, and we once again started for my house. I promised him I would tell him what happened, but I wanted to get home. I HAD to call Brett's house and see if he was ok. How could I leave him behind? I promised him we'd deal with this together. THIS! I never expected this. My breathing started to speed up and I noticed Steve look over at me, so I calmed myself. I need to get home.
When we pulled through the gate, I noticed both my parents' cars were in the drive. It couldn't be later than 4:30 and they were never home this early. As I got out of the car, I promised Steve I would call him and explain, but I was sure he'd know before I had a chance to keep that promise. After all, the whole football team was in that locker room. I told Steve bye and watched as he drove away, and out the gates. "How many times have I stood here before and watched as my friends drove down that road and out of sight." I wondered to myself.
I steeled myself and opened the door. I walked through the foyer and up the stairs to my room. I didn't see any sign of my parents and I fell on my bed. I reached for the phone and dialed Brett's number. It was busy. 10 more times I tried, allowing about 5 minutes between, and each time it was busy. I hung up and started to cry all over again as I thought about what I had done by leaving Brett behind. I could feel his need pulling at our bond. My phone rang and I jerked the receiver off the cradle, "BRETT??"
"Brent?? Yeah it's me. Are you ok?? I couldn't find you after you ran out of the locker room. I searched all over the school and no one said they'd seen where you went. How'd you get home?" His voice was strained and I could tell he'd been crying.
"Oh Brett, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run out and leave you behind. I just couldn't think of anything but getting out of there. Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry!!"
"Don't be crazy you dumb ass. I was so worried about you; I didn't have time to think about anything else. How'd you get HOME??"
"I found Steve in the parking lot and he brought me home. Can you come over here? I need to see you." There was a long pause from Brett and I realized that he must have been considering what my parent's would think of his coming over. "I'm sorry. I forgot about my parent's. How do you think the coach found out?? We never did anything at school or even around anyone but Shelby and Shelly. They'd never tell a soul. How do you think he found out??"
"I can't imagine how Brent. We're dead you realize don't you? When we go to school again, we're dead. Everyone will know by tomorrow with those big mouths on the football team. We're dead."
"No we're NOT! You leave everything to me. I won't run out on you again. You let me handle those fools at school. We're not dead by a long shot!" I won't let anyone or anything hurt him. I'll kick every ass in school including the teacher's if they think they're going to hurt him. "You just make sure you pick me up tomorrow morning for school and let me do the talking when we get there. We'll see how far they're willing to go once a few of them are eating their teeth."
"Whoa Conan!! You can't go kicking ass and taking names. You'll get us both kicked out of school. We have to handle this together. We need to show them that we don't care what they think. I love you and you love me. That's all that matters and nothing they can do will change that. Right??" He said expectantly.
"Right. NOTHING can change that." I head my mother call my name from the bottom of the stairs. "Um...Brett, my mother's calling me. I guess it's time for me to deal with the home front. Wait until my father finds out that the whole school knows bout his son. I may not have to worry about school tomorrow. Just make sure you make it to my funeral."
"Don't be a jackass!! I...I love you Brent. I love you so much."
"I love you too Brett. We'll make it through this...I promise. Bye lover." I hung up the phone just as my mother made it to my bedroom door. "Hello mom. Sorry, I was on the phone with Brett."
"I know," she simply stated, "I need you to come downstairs. Your father has something to say to you." I got off the bed and walked towards her. "Brent, I know what happened at school today." My mouth dropped open as I stared at her in astonishment. "Just come downstairs with me. You'll learn how soon enough." I followed my mother in stunned silence down the stairs. We walked down the hall to my father's den. He was sitting in his recliner with his fingers laced together, on his lap. He was staring out the patio door when we walked in. He didn't bother to turn to look at us as my mother sat across from him and told me to sit in another recliner that faced both of them.
"Ok David. Tell him." She looked at my father who kept his eyes on the patio. "Tell him David. Tell your son what you did today." He broke off staring at the patio and looked at my mother. What's going on with them, I thought. "TELL HIM!" She yelled and I must have jumped a foot off the recliner.
My father turned in my direction, but he never made eye contact. His chiseled faced remain placid as he looked past me at the wall. "I called your coach just before lunch and told him what I saw yesterday. I told him that I did not want you and that...BOY to be together and if I had too, I would take you off the team. I will NOT have a son of MINE acting like a GIRL!!" He returned to staring out the patio and my mother turned to look t me.
"Your coach called just before you got home and I spoke with him. He told me what happened at practice and that you had run out of the locker room. I was so worried, until I heard you open the door and go upstairs. I was going to talk to you then, but I heard you talking on the phone. If I can't get that bastard fired for what he's done, then I'll make sure he never says another word about it."
"Um...you did what?" I was now looking at my father. "You told the coach what? YOU told him. I don't believe you. You wouldn't do that." Tears and anger welled up in me as my father remained staring at nothing. "You hate me that much, dad?? Why didn't you just kill me last night??" My voice began to rise with each question I fired off to him. "Why didn't you go to Brett's house and kill him too?"
"Don't you dare raise your voice to me." My father looked at me and said through gritting teeth. "I'm your father and you'll show me respect or you'll leave MY house!"
I jumped up, "You are NOT my FATHER!! I don't know WHO you ARE!! I will never, ever forget what you've done. You've made my life and Brett's a living nightmare and you have the gall to sit there and tell me to respect YOU??"
"Now Brent," my mother stated to say.
"NO!! I won't listen anymore. He has destroyed me as well as if he had stabbed me in the heart. Right this moment, there is not an ounce of feeling I have except hate for him. HATE!!" I turned and yelled this word at my father, who seemed to flinch from the tone in my voice. "I'm not your son. I don't WANT to be your son. I don't WANT to live here anymore. Maybe now you will be happy that you won't have to see your faggot son anymore." My mom sat there and began to cry as I threw these evil phrases at my father. My father sat in stunned silence at the vehemence in my words. "ARE you satisfied SIR??" I turned and ran through the house and out the door. I ran to the stables and into Sierra's stall. I thought I could never cry as much as I had the night before, but it did not compare to the tears that flowed from me now. My heart was broken in two and I was dying inside. I loved my father. I looked up to him my entire life and I tried to do everything I could to please him and hear his words of encouragement. He was my strongest supporter. I could hear him yell from the stands at football games, above all the noise, it was his voice I heard and it would make me soar. Like an open wound, everything I felt or cared for him was seeping out and into the fodder that spread across the floor of Sierra's stall. She nickered and whinnied; probably picking up on the force of the emotions I cast out.
I cried until no more tears could fall. I sat there in the stable for over 3 hours. My mother had come out a couple times, but I told her I wanted to be left alone. Finally, at around 9 o'clock, I walked into the house. I went to my room and closed the door. I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone. I called Brett.
"We will survive this Brett," I told him. "You and I together can survive it all. Just you remember that I love you and you'll understand." After I hung up the phone, I thought about those last words and wondered where I had heard them before. Then I remembered. They were the words Robert had said to be before he told me he was leaving. I smiled as I thought, "But this will be different. No ones leaving this time and I won't let it end." I laid back in bed and fell asleep. I needed all the strength I could to deal with day two of this mess. Deal with it I would.
Ok...whew! Before you freak out on this chapter, I want everyone to know that my father has made extreme efforts in acceptance since this occurred. We will probably never have the relationship we once had, but I know he loves me and I love him. Over the month's that followed this event, my parent's contemplated divorce. With time and understanding, and even a little forgiveness, our family stayed together. After all, a child could never truly hate their parent and it was impossible for a parent to hate their child. It's the dealing with them that cause the confusion of emotional bonds. Write me at brent@cutey.com with feedback and comments. I'll have Day 2 out in a couple of days. Here is where the story actually begins : )