Page 37 of Unbound
"Someone authentic. Someone free."
"Someone alone," Sam said flatly. "Someone who's lost everything he's ever known, everyone he's ever loved, every certainty he's ever had. Are you prepared to be responsible for that?"
I looked down at the photo again. Jesse's face stared back at me, caught in that moment of desperate longing, and something twisted in my chest.
"Maybe he needs to lose those things," I said finally. "Maybe they're not worth keeping if they're built on lies."
"That's easy for you to say," Elijah said quietly. "You've never had to choose between being yourself and having a family."
The words hit like a slap. Because he was right—I'd come out in high school to parents who'd hugged me and asked if I needed anything, if I was happy, if there was anyone special I wanted to bring home for dinner. My biggest struggle had been choosing which college to attend, not whether attending college meant losing everyone I loved.
But that didn't make this wrong. It just made it harder.
"Look," I said, standing up and walking to the window. Outside, the campus was quiet, most students either studying or partying, living their normal lives without having to choose between authenticity and survival. "I'm not saying it'll be easy for him. I'm not saying there won't be consequences. But the alternative is watching him spend the rest of his life hating himself, hating us, and never knowing what he could have been."
"And you think you're the person to make that choice for him?" Andrew asked.
"I think I'm the person who's going to give him the option to make that choice for himself."
Diana made a soft sound, halfway between a sigh and a hum. "You know what I think? I think you care about him more than you want to admit. And I think that's both the best and worst thing about this whole situation."
I turned to look at her, but she was already standing up, gathering the scattered pamphlets.
"I'm going to make dinner," she announced. "Someone needs to feed this family, and you all are too busy philosophizing to remember you have bodies that need sustenance." She paused in the doorway. "Adrian, honey? Whatever you decide to do, just... be careful. With him and with yourself."
After she left, the room felt different. Smaller. The weight of what I was considering—what I was already doing—settled on my shoulders like a lead blanket.
"So what's your next move?" Jamie asked. She was still scrolling through photos, but I could tell she was listening.
"I need proximity," I said, more to myself than to her. "Real proximity. Not just these random encounters where he can run away when things get uncomfortable. I need him trapped in a room with me long enough to have an actual conversation."
"Good luck with that," Phoenix said. "That boy runs faster than a shoplifter with security on his tail."
But even as they spoke, something was clicking into place in my mind. A memory of syllabi and assignment schedules, of Professor Okonkwo's methodical approach to semester-long projects.
"The debate assignment," I said suddenly.
"What debate assignment?" Andrew asked.
"In Okonkwo's class. Constitutional Law. He always does a major debate project in the second half of the semester. Partners argue landmark cases in front of the class." I could feel my pulse picking up as the idea crystallized. “He assigns the partnerships randomly, but..."
"But you're thinking of stacking the deck," Elijah said. It wasn't a question.
"I'm thinking of creating an opportunity." I looked at the photo one more time, at Jesse's desperate, trapped expression. "If I could get us paired up, arguing the same side of a case... he'd have to work with me. He'd have to engage with the material, with the arguments, with me."
"What case?" Sam asked, though their tone suggested they already suspected.
"Something that would force him to confront his own beliefs. Something that would make him argue for what he's been taught to condemn." I grinned, feeling the familiar rush of a plan coming together. "Marriage equality.Obergefell v. Hodges. Make him argue for the right of same-sex couples to marry."
The room erupted.
"That's evil," Phoenix said admiringly.
"That's brilliant," Jamie breathed.
"That's cruel," Andrew said firmly.
"That's perfect," Sam admitted reluctantly.
