Date Me, Bryson Keller(35)

I didn’t know you were coming. He adds a series of confetti-cannon emojis.

I smile as I type my response. I wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked.

I was the one who promised to be the perfect boyfriend, Bryson texts back.

Fair is fair.

What am I going to do with you? Bryson asks.

What do you mean?

Aaah. Got to go. Coach is calling. Talk later. I’m not sure if he’s hit the emoji by mistake because he’s in a rush, but my heart hammers in my chest as I stare at the kissing-face emoji.

I return to my seat but distractedly watch the second half. My mind is on the text, on that kissing face. What does it all mean?

    I pull my phone from my pocket and reread our conversation. My eyes snag on What am I going to do with you? Is Bryson as confused as I am? This can’t go on. We need to talk.

Soon.

The final whistle blows, and the Cougars win four to two, with Bryson scoring three of their goals. I can’t help laughing as Bryson is picked up onto Dustin’s and Isaac’s shoulders. As the crowd cheers, I realize my voice is one of the loudest.

As I’m leaving the stands, my phone buzzes—another text from Kelly.

Wait for me. I’ll give you a lift home.

I planned on calling Dad to pick me up, but this is easier.

Okay, I text back.

I make my way to the school parking lot. It doesn’t take me long to spot Bryson’s Jeep, but I don’t walk toward it. With so many people around me, it’s best not to draw their attention. I don’t need people questioning why I’m here and, more so, why I’m here with Bryson. I’m not sure I have a believable excuse to offer them. Instead, I head to the stairs that lead into block A and take a seat. I can still see and hear Bryson from here.

I watch as the parking lot starts to empty. Soon the vehicles that remain belong to either the stragglers or the team. Bryson jogs into view a short while later. He scans the parking lot but doesn’t see me. I watch as he pulls his phone from his pocket.

    Where are you?

Instead of typing a response, I stand. He spots me and his frown morphs into a smile. Before I can walk toward him, though, Shannon, Natalie, and Isaac approach him. I sit back down. This is how I’ve lived my whole life—hidden and in the shadows. And the longer I stay here, the more tired I’m getting.

“We’re heading to my place to celebrate the victory; do you want to come?” Isaac asks.

Bryson shakes his head. “I’m beat, man.”

“You should be. You were on fire tonight,” Natalie says.

“That’s why you deserve to celebrate,” Shannon says. I watch as she slides up to Bryson. “Come with us. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m really not in the mood,” Bryson says. He very subtly creates space between them. I can’t help but smile at the gesture.

Dustin runs up to them. “So, is he in?”

“No,” Shannon whines. “He says he’s tired.”

“I told you he’s become a real buzzkill lately,” Dustin says. He pats Bryson on the back. “Must be old age.”

“You’re older than me,” Bryson points out.

“Well, we should get going, then,” Isaac says. He takes Natalie’s hand in his. And the sight should make me feel a little jealous. Just last week it would have.

It doesn’t take long for them to climb into Isaac’s car and drive out of the parking lot. Bryson waves them off. I stand and walk toward him once more.

“I hate that you had to hide,” Bryson says when I approach. The smile that was on his face is gone. He even curses as he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in.

    I join him. We don’t go anywhere, though. “I’m sorry,” Bryson says to me.

“For?”

“I don’t think it’s hit me until this week how scary it is to think about coming out. How cautious you have to be.” He sighs. “Even when you like someone, you can’t just outright show them. Everything has to be subtle. Or announced. There’s, like, no middle ground. You’re either in the closet or you have to announce that you’re gay and dating. You can’t just do it.” Bryson starts the Jeep. “It’s such bullshit.”

I offer him a small smile. “I admire people like Eric Ferguson who just live their truth.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to understand just how brave Eric is.”

Bryson scrolls through a playlist on his phone before hitting play. He pulls out of the parking lot, and soon we are surrounded by one of the Graces’ ballads. It’s a song about liking a boy for the first time. The song choice feels deliberate. I study the boy next to me.

“You know, I haven’t scored a hat trick since sophomore year,” Bryson says. “I think you may be my lucky charm.”

“I should come to more of your games, then.”

“I’d love that,” Bryson admits. “It was kinda cool knowing my boyfriend was there to support me.” He laughs. “I guess I’m starting to get the perks of dating in high school.”

“I know I’m not the first of your dates to watch your soccer games.”

    “You’re not,” Bryson says. “But it’s the first time I’ve felt this.”