Page 64 of What You Own
“Drawing attention to yourself can also make the opposite true,” Langley said. So damned cold, that man.
Adam’s face darkened, and his shoulders went rigid. I put my hand on his back to keep him calm, and I didn’t care who saw. “How did I draw attention to myself in high school exactly?” I asked Langley, stupidly calm while Adam looked like he wanted to blow a gasket. “By going to a private party and kissing a guy? Because some kid from school saw me and told everyone about it? I wasn’t going to lie and deny it. It wasn’t how I wanted to come out. I didn’t want the bullying or the harassment or theattention. All I wanted was to get through my senior year and graduate.”
And to love your sonhung off the tip of my tongue. I hoped Adam knew the words were there, even if I couldn’t say them.
“Bullying in school is a very topical issue,” Scott said, all careful like he was afraid of startling a stamping bull. “Are your own experiences one of the reasons you volunteer here?”
“Absolutely. Kids and especially teens need a place they can go to and be themselves. We don’t judge anyone here on gender, race, wealth, or sexuality. That’s not what we’re about, and we’re zero tolerance when it comes to bullying. Every kid who walks through those doors knows it from day one.”
“If you’re all pretty tolerant here, then how was it working with Adam again?”
“Huh?” My brain stuttered. The question didn’t make sense. My hand fell off his back on its own.
Scott looked from Adam to me, uncertain. “Well, back in high school you two were really tight, until you came out. Then he dropped you like a stone.”
“Uh….” The interview was going in directions I didn’t want to visit, and I fumbled for something less stupid to say.
Nothing.
Adam
RYANWASdrowning in that inappropriate question about the status of our friendship, and I couldn’t stand to see it. I couldn’t keep doing this. I’d come out in front of twenty-odd people last night. There was no reason to keep up the charade.
“The way I treated Ryan after he came out was wrong,” I said, forcing iron into my voice and choosing my words carefully to avoid outright lies. “I knew he was gay before other people found out, but peer pressure is a powerful thing when you’re seventeen. I let other people influence my reaction, and I always regretted losing Ryan’s friendship.”
“You knew?” Dad asked.
I looked him square in the eyes, struggling hard to ignore the betrayal in them. “He told me about a year earlier. Ryan was my best friend. I didn’t care.” Dad was getting apoplectic, so I turned back to Scott, who seemed riveted. “I did the exact wrong thing when Ryan was outed at school. I turned my back on him. I was too much of a coward to stand up for him. I’m grateful that he eventually forgave me for betraying him like that.”
“So you and Ryan are friends again, because of this fundraiser?” Scott asked.
“Yes, we are.” Something in my chest warmed, settled, and I clasped Ryan’s hand tight in mine. “We’re a lot of things now.” Ryan squeezed back, hard enough that I feared for my fingers.
Scott’s eyebrows furrowed. Then he saw our hands. Understanding sent those eyebrows into his hairline. He shoved his phone into his pocket, blinking at us both. “I, uh, okay. Well, I think I have enough for a couple of different articles. Congratulations?”
I laughed, a little overwhelmed at having just outed myself—to a reporter I went to high school with, of all people. And in front of my father, who I couldn’t make myself look at yet. “Yes, definitely congratulations. And thank you so much for coming tonight.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it.”
Ellie winked at us, then wandered off with Scott. A lot of the crowd had thinned out. Maybe a dozen people, mostly volunteers, still lingered. Ryan tried to pull his hand away, but I held tight. If he tried again, I’d let go. Instead, he smiled so broadly I almost lost my head and kissed him.
“You certainly made your point,” Dad said. He practically snarled the words, his face nearly purple with rage. My insides shook because it was all directed at us, but Ryan was next to me, and I knew he wouldn’t abandon me.
“What point was I making exactly?” I asked. “All I did was not lie. I’m exhausted of lying, Dad. I want to be me.”
“Being with that boy nearly got you killed.”
“No, a couple of assholes who’d had too much to drink nearly got me killed.” Ryan’s face when he told me the rest of his ugly truth filled my mind—so embarrassed, so hurt. My heart ached for him, and a protective rage surged through me, aimed right at the man who made sure our attackers never faced real justice.
I got right in my father’s personal space, which he didn’t expect. He sputtered a bit, but let me crowd him out of the lobby and into the empty auditorium. I pitched my voice lower, not wanting my words to echo. “Those same assholes you got off on community service, instead of charging them with attempted murder and sexual assault.”
Dad’s eyes widened. His nostrils flared. He didn’t lose that indignant glare, or the air that he’d been somehow affronted by all of this.
“Yeah, Ryan told me about that,” I snapped. “How could you?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? The worst had already happened.”
