Date Me, Bryson Keller(62)

    “Let’s say grace,” Yazz says. She holds out her hand and I place mine in hers. Yazz glances at our parents. “Well?”

Mom places her hand in Yazz’s and takes Dad’s. He holds out his other hand to me and I take it. Dad squeezes it twice. I look up but find his eyes already closed. I’m pretty sure I imagined it, but then Dad opens his eyes and offers me a small nod.

Yazz starts to lead us in prayer. “Our Father, we have come together to share a meal. Thank you for providing this food and for allowing us to gather as a family. Bless us, O Lord, and bless the hands that prepared this meal….” The prayer starts off the same as the one we say before eating any meal, but soon Yazz alters it to deliver a different message. “And, Father God, help this family now. We stand at a crossroads, and I pray that you guide us to take the right path, heavenly Father. You created Kai in your own image, and only you can judge him, Father God. I ask that you remind everyone of that fact. Heavenly Father, I ask that you show us all that love is love and that a family cannot call itself that when there is hatred and unacceptance,” Yazz says. “And, Father, help Kai say what he needs to say. And help my parents listen to him as he does this very scary and brave thing. I ask this all in the almighty name of Jesus. Amen.”

Yazz opens her eyes and looks around the table. “Let’s eat.”

Misty-eyed, I stare at my sister. I’m not alone in this house. One by one, we all start to eat. The sound of cutlery is all that can be heard. Yazz looks from me to my parents. She sighs. “Kai, there was something you wanted to say?”

    I shake my head. Dad stops eating and looks at me. “Say what you need to say, son.”

I meet his gaze and Dad nods. I appreciate his effort.

I clear my throat. This is it. My voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“Mom and Dad, this is the moment I’ve feared since I was ten years old. I was that young when I first started to think I was different from the other boys. It wasn’t because I felt any different, but rather because everyone around me kept insisting that I’d be different if I was gay. That I’d be sinning because of who I am.” My voice gets louder now. I almost sound like myself, except for the tears that I’m trying to blink back. “But I knew that my being gay was unchangeable. It was just like the color of my skin. Something that was a part of me and made me who I am. I’m the same Kai that you know and love. Dad, I’m the son you shoot hoops with and take to the barber to get his hair cut. Mom, I watch those old rom-coms with you and help you solve the crosswords in the newspaper. I’ll always be the Kai Sheridan that you made all those memories with.

“I’m still me. Nothing’s changed. I know that for certain. Yes, I’m gay, but I’m still me. I know what the Bible says, Mom, but I’m asking you to put your faith in me. I’m asking you to put your faith in your son. I’m not any different just because society wants me to be. I’m the same. So please, Mom and Dad, love me just like you always have? Please?” My voice breaks on the last word. I look up to find both Mom and Dad blinking back tears.

    I’m hopeful. For one solitary heartbeat, I see a light at the end of this dark and lonely tunnel, but then Mom gets up. And without a word, she leaves the table.

Dad reaches for my hand. He looks at me. “I love you, Kai,” Dad says. He gets up and follows Mom. “I’ll talk to her.”

Yazz and I are left staring at each other. She pushes up her glasses. “You did well, Kai. Now it’s on them.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I make to move my plate to the kitchen, but Yazz stops me. “Go. I’ll do this.”

I nod and leave the dining room behind. I head up the stairs, and as I do, I try to choke down the sound of my crying.

I enter my bedroom and fall face-first onto my bed.

I cry myself to sleep.





29


I roll from my bed and flinch. My body is sore, but it feels a lot better since Bryson applied ointment to my wounds. As soon as I open my eyes, I text Bryson.

Bryson being so worried about me only adds to the feelings I’m developing for him. What started as simple like and attraction is growing and changing into something more. It both scares and thrills me.

The three musketeers group chat lights up.

Are you coming to school with Bryson or do you need me to fetch you? Donny asks.

Bryson.

Okay. We’ll see you in the parking lot.

I cross my bedroom and open the door. I peek my head out, but no one is around on the second floor. Down below I hear Mom and Dad clattering. They aren’t speaking, though. It seems that the house is still under a spell of silence.

I dash to the bathroom and take a shower, then brush my teeth and shave. Once I’m back in my bedroom, I start getting dressed. I have time to kill seeing as how I’m actively avoiding the kitchen.

    Eventually seven o’ clock comes, and I grab my school things and dash for the door.

“I’m leaving,” I shout, again to no one in particular. I pull the door open to find Bryson standing there. His finger is raised to ring the doorbell.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I close the door behind me.

“I was worried,” Bryson says. He grabs me by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”