Page 106 of Ambiguous
“Okay,” he says, breathless. “I mean, I want to. I super-duper want to. I need to take care of the Kurt situation beforehand, though, to avoid blowing up Pop-Pop’s campaign.”
“Okay? You said that fast. Think about it. You won’t be a private person for much longer. The media will find out who you are and where you live, and then news vans will camp out to learn every little detail they can.”
Sam chuckles. “So I’ll move.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Julian, itisthat easy. I understand what will happen. I’m willing to deal with it. I want to be with you. We can work out any logistics. We don’t have to plan everything.”
His tone makes me laugh. “Wow. The organized one isn’t planning.”
“The orderly one wants to go with the flow and find out where this goes. Together.”
I gulp. “I can live with that.”
“Just… let me break up with Kurt first. Get that cleared away.” He sighs. “I’ll let you know what the PR folks say. You and I might need to wait a few weeks before being seen together, so it doesn’t look bad.”
“If that’s what you need, you got it.”
Even if I don’t like it. And even if I’m worried about what the future holds for my album.
CHAPTER39
Sam
Afew days later, I’m attending yet another event for my family, standing with Kurt, with whom I’ve been whispering furtively.
“We need to break up,” I say. Between work and being with Julian, and PR apparently being busy with other things, I haven’t had that planning meeting yet, and I’m getting antsy.
“Not now.”
“Kurt, I don’t want to wait any longer. I don’t want to do this to Julian. And we’re—your mom, my granddad—doing well in the polls. I would hope some little newsbite about us wouldn’t matter too much.” With time has come perspective. And with Julian being mine, I’ve become impatient.
The party is in full swing. This one’s at a house in Montecito, with valet parking and more celebrities than ever. Guess that’s what happens when your guests include European royalty and entertainment titans.
With all the bustle and noise, I hadn’t noticed that my mother is now standing next to us. Her nails dig into my bicep, but her voice is pitched low and her smile doesn’t waver. “Sam,” she says, “what on earth is the matter? You and Kurt look like you’re arguing.”
“We kind of are,” I admit.
For a second, she can’t help looking shocked. “Why?”
“Because I have a real boyfriend.”
Mom blinks, and the public mask is back. “Kurt is your boyfriend.”
I snort. “He is not. You know this is just for the press.”
“I thought over the years it had grown into something real.”
Kurt’s face is impassive.
My mom shakes herself almost imperceptibly. “Well, you can’t break up now. Not during the campaign.”
“Why?” I don’t mean to sound like a whining child, but family sometimes reduces me to that.
“Think about what this campaign means, not only to your grandfather, but to all the people who are counting on him. All the gay, lesbian, and transgender people in this state. Do you want that”—she shivers—“monster to win?”
Now there’s a scary thought. The leading candidate running against my grandfather has threatened to roll back all social progress we’ve made in the last forty years. I’ve seen legislation introduced seeking to prohibit trans people from playing sports or getting health care—but that’s in other states. California’s been leading, at least in some areas. I want to have faith that a simple change in power couldn’t undo all that, but the prospect scares me.
