Page 30 of Ancient History

Mr. Brightside: My family and I have never been that close. There wasn’t any falling out, but we’re just different people. I’m nerdy and wanted to discuss cool facts I learned in school. They preferred to eat dinner in front of the TV in silence. I wanted to go to the indie theater to see a foreign film I’d read about. They wanted to take family excursions to wrestling matches. I’m the perpetual odd man out, even before I came out. Coming out was just another aspect of me they couldn’t connect with.

Mr. Brightside: Was it because I was gay? Because I was a bookish nerd? Because my sense of style and sense of humor were so fabulous that they felt constantly upstaged? Who’s to say.

I cracked a smile, but my heart broke for him. I appreciated how supportive Pop was, but now I was fucking grateful to have a dad like him.

SoccerStar: They can’t handle your fabulousness.

Mr. Brightside: My sister dropped out of college and moved to New Orleans, where her boyfriend-now-husband was from. My parents joined them a few years ago to be closer to their grandkids. I’m holding out hope that one of my sister’s kids will be nerdy like me. It’ll give me proof that I genetically belong in this family and I’m not a total fluke.

SoccerStar: You’re not a fluke. You’re exactly who you need to be. I love watching wrestling, but I also loved listening to all the weird facts you’d spout.

Mr. Brightside: I preferred the found kind of family. My friends are like extra siblings. What could beat that?

Damn. I wish we were having this conversation in person so I could wrap him in a hug and remind him how awesome he was. He was really living up to his username.

SoccerStar: Listen, if you ever feel the need for a father figure, I can loan Pop to you. He’s a little slow and a little stubborn, but he gets the job done.

Mr. Brightside: What does Pop do, pray tell?

SoccerStar: He’ll provide an unlimited supply of dad jokes which he’ll laugh at before he gets to the punchline. He’ll provide unsolicited commentary on pop culture and political figures, relegating most of them to the dingus or doofus bucket. And he can give you a call whenever you need and ask exactly two questions: “are you feeling okay?” and “how’s your car running?”

Mr. Brightside: Does he come with an old wallet, stuffed to the breaking point with receipts and loyalty cards?

SoccerStar: You know it.

Mr. Brightside: Sold!

* * *

Mr. Brightside:It’s 4 am.

SoccerStar: We have to get up in 90 minutes.

Mr. Brightside: We should stay up. If we go to sleep now, we’ll wake up in the middle of a REM cycle and be even more tired.

SoccerStar: Is tonight even real? It feels like a dream.

SoccerStar: I’ve really liked this. I feel like I haven’t talked to anyone in years.

Mr. Brightside: You didn’t keep in touch with all your friends from high school?

SoccerStar: We drifted, like your family. Just different people.

Mr. Brightside: Did you see one of your teammates is a conservative blogger?

Mr. Brightside: Barf.

SoccerStar: I did, and I second your barf.

SoccerStar: After I was cut from the Troubadours, I went to work, worked out, and went home. I got into a routine. You never realize how lonely you are in the moment. It’s something I look back on like oh wow, I was a step above a hermit.

Mr. Brightside: Loneliness just becomes another layer of clothing you wear. You don’t even realize it’s on.

SoccerStar: Until someone helps you take it off.

My face turned red. I was really grateful he couldn’t see me.

SoccerStar: Seems like you have a good group of friends and a great life here in Sourwood. You’ve really come into your own.

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