Date Me, Bryson Keller(50)

I recall the posters on Bryson’s bedroom wall. “Liverpool.”

Dad sighs. “You must invite him over, then. I need to have a serious talk with him.”

    I imagine Bryson coming over and meeting my parents, as my boyfriend this time. I introduce him as such, and Mom simply asks if he’s eaten. True to his word, Dad talks to him about soccer, and we spend the afternoon laughing and joking. There isn’t a third-degree interrogation; there aren’t any tears or disappointment or prayers for their gay son. There isn’t any heartache or pain. Instead, we go about it as if everything is normal.

Because it is.

My having a boyfriend is normal.

I head to the fridge to find a snack. I see my breakfast covered and smile. I love my parents. I warm the food in the microwave and go back to my bedroom.

I pull out my phone. Totally by accident, I end up stalking Bryson’s profile. He hasn’t uploaded anything since yesterday. Actually, he’s been oddly quiet all morning. No texts—nothing. A small part of me worries that last night overwhelmed him.

As I’m scrolling through the many pictures of Bryson, my phone vibrates, not with a text but with a phone call. Only a handful of people bother to call me, and all of them belong to my family.

But it isn’t any of them. Kelly’s name flashes on the screen. Immediately, I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear.

“Kai?” Bryson says. He sounds odd. “I’m sorry I’m calling. I know you hate phone calls.”

“Bryson, what’s wrong?”

“I wanted to talk to someone, and you came to mind.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

    There’s a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

“I saw my dad today,” Bryson says. “He’s having a baby.” Another long pause. “He’s having a son with the woman he had an affair with.”

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Melody Beach.” That section of the beach used to be popular before the boardwalk got revamped. Now it’s deserted, with few people going there because it’s a no-swim zone.

“I’m coming,” I say. We hang up. I grab my wallet and go downstairs.

Dad is the first parent I see. “Dad, can I borrow your car?”

“For?”

“I have plans with Bryson today.” My parents have met him now. I don’t need to hide anything. It isn’t weird for two boys to hang out, so why lie?

“Sure,” Dad says. “You know where the keys are.”

“Thanks.” I walk to the foyer. There’s a small table with a glass bowl that we use to keep our keys in. I find the ones for Dad’s car.

I pull on my shoes and exit the house. Dad drives an SUV. Just after I got my license, every time I borrowed this car, the vehicle would come back either scratched or dented. To this day I swear that it was the tree’s fault the first time. And the second time, the fire hydrant jumped out in front of me.

I was banned for a while after those accidents, but I argued that the only way for me to get better was to practice. My parents allowed me to use Mom’s car instead. Now, though, I’m a much more confident driver, so Dad doesn’t have an issue with my driving his car.

    Melody Beach is on the outskirts of town, and the fastest way to get there is to cut right through the heart of Fairvale.

Soon the sound of traffic gives way to the sound of the ocean. I turn right, and the tree line breaks to offer me my first view of the glittering sea. I turn into the parking lot at Melody Beach. Bryson’s Jeep is the only car there.

I pull into the space next to the Jeep and climb out. I peer through the window. The car’s empty. I scan my surroundings and spot Bryson sitting in the center of the basketball court.

He doesn’t see me at first. My shadow announces my presence. Bryson twists to look up at me. He smiles, but it’s not the one that I have come to know—the one I’ve come to expect.

“You came?” His eyes are red, and so are his cheeks. It’s clear that Bryson’s been crying.

I nod and sit next to him. “Of course I came. I was worried about you.”

I place my hand on the back of his neck, stroke his hair there. I wait for him to talk some more. There’s no rush. I just want him to know that I’m here for him.

“You’re the first person I’ve told about the affair other than Dustin.” Bryson shakes his head. “My dad cheated on my mom. That’s why they divorced.” He looks at me then, and I see how much he’s hurting over this. It breaks my heart. “I caught them once, you know. Sophomore year, when he was still married to Mom. I needed to ask him something, so I went to his office and I saw them. He spotted me before I could run away. He chased me down, and instead of trying to explain or make excuses, he told me not to tell Mom. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I kept quiet, kept it a secret even though I knew it would destroy Mom. Even though I knew it would rip my family apart. The secret almost killed me. For one whole year he made sure I kept his secret. Mom caught him at the start of junior year. If I’d had to keep his secret any longer, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

    “I understand,” I say. “I know what it’s like to carry a secret that could rip up the world you’re used to.”