Again, But Better(111)
I’ll be home at the end of April. I lied and said I was here for a premed program, but I’m doing a writing internship. What’s up with you?
Send.
Ten minutes later:
Oh shit, that’s insane. Makes sense, though. You’re always reading. I always thought you’d be an author or something. Your blog’s been extra good lately. What’d he do to you when he found out?
Has Leo always … read my blog? We’ve never talked about it before.
He had a fit. Stormed off. Told me to never call him for anything ever again. You read my blog? What’s up with you?
Send.
A minute later:
Could have been worse, I guess. Why wouldn’t I read your blog? Meet me on Facebook Chat?
I pull up Facebook and log in.
Leo
I’m going through some
shit … It’s fucking me up, and
I don’t know what to do or who
to talk to about it.
Shane
Do you want to Skype?
Leo
No, typing is easier.
Shane
What’s up?
Leo
I broke up with someone a couple
weeks ago.
Shane You had a girlfriend? I thought
you just did hookups? For
how long? Why wasn’t it on
Facebook?
Leo
I’m gay.
If I were holding the computer, I would have dropped it.
Shane
But you’re always talking about
girls you’ve had sex with?!
Back in high school he hooked up with the cheerleading captain in my year when he was still a junior! He’s played along and laughed when my other cousin Anthony has made cracks about me probably being a lesbian.
Leo
I’ve been with the guy for
almost a year, but he got tired
of living in the fucking
shadows. But if my dad found
out, he would kick me out of
the house. I know just how the
conversation would go. I’d tell
him I’m gay and he’d say: “No,
you’re not.” There’d be an
awkward pause. I’d repeat
myself, and he’d tell me to get
out. And then, like, the guys …
Alfie, Anthony, Vincent,
Matt—I’d be exiled at every
family gathering.
My vision blurs because I can hear Uncle Dan saying exactly that. How many homophobic remarks has he had to endure from Uncle Dan over the years? How long has he been struggling with this alone? Was all that stuff he’d said about dating girls through high school a way to protect himself? I heave in a breath.
Shane
Aflie, Anthony, Vincent,
Matt … they love you. Finding
out you like dudes is not going
to change that. Maybe it’ll take
a second to process, but you
won’t lose them. You’re not
going to lose me. Uncle Dan
and everyone with an issue will
have to evolve.
Leo
I can’t bring myself to do shit
right now. I stopped going to
class. I’m going to lose my
scholarship.
Jesus. My heart constricts. Is he out in 2017 to his friends? Was he dealing with depression? Did he ever talk to a counselor or something? Do Uncle Dan and Aunt Marie know now? Is that why 2017 Mom never talks about him? Did Uncle Dan exile him? Do they never talk about him? I wipe at my cheeks.
Shane
Leo, you should go talk to
someone. You don’t actually
want to lose that scholarship,
right?
Leo
I just want to be normal.
Shane There is no normal.
He doesn’t respond for a minute. Then:
Leo
Thanks for being here.
Shane
You’re the closest thing I have
to a brother, Leo. Call me, beep
me, if you need to reach me =) Leo
Sorry we don’t talk anymore.
Shane
It’s not too late to change that.
I’m here!
Leo
g2g
24. Through Accepting Limits
It’s Tuesday, March 8, and I have the first draft of my study abroad guide typed up and saved on a thumb drive. When I get to Packed!, I boot up the white MacBook, plug in the drive, email it to Wendy, and wait. Nowadays I’m working side by side with Tracey, Declan, and Donna on a regular basis. Whenever they’re doing something they can share with me, I’m shadowing them. Today, I’m shadowing Declan, who’s working on a photo spread for their April issue. I end up periodically excusing myself throughout the afternoon to go refresh my email.
“Are you expecting something important that you keep running back to your desk?” Declan laughs when I return for the third time.
I sigh. “I’m sorry. Just an important email. Ignore me!”
At the end of the day when I’m packing up, Wendy emerges from her office and walks over to my table. My throat tightens. I’m pushing in my chair to leave when she stops in front of me.
“I read your draft,” she opens.
I try to swallow. “… Thanks?”