#Rev (GearShark #2)(83)

The handful of guys who I guess spoke up against Trent and his sexual orientation also had some black eyes. I had to admit I gained a lot of respect for the house as a whole.

Whenever I looked at T, I could see the relief in his face. How heavily this had weighed on him and how much freer he looked now.

Conner and his followers were told their fate and given papers Trent drew up a long time ago (just in case) outlining they were being released from their charter. After they were untied, they signed the papers and were sent to pack.

The guys who didn’t participate in jumping Trent but didn’t agree with his lifestyle choice were given an option: stay and act like a decent human being or get the hell out.

Only one chose to walk. The rest decided being gay wasn’t that big of a deal after all.

Conner wasn’t happy about his fate. He told everyone as loud as he could, but his words didn’t carry any weight here anymore, and no one gave two shits he was upset.

When the four of them walked out of the house with their shit in their hands, everyone clapped. Conner turned back to likely sneer and deliver one last hateful comment to Trent, but he slammed the door in his face.

De-nied.

Once everything was taken care of, Romeo and B went back to the house. Trent took my hand and led me outside.

It was there, right there on the sidewalk in front of the Omega house, that he cradled my face and kissed me deep. When he pulled back, there was nothing but love in his eyes.

“Now what?” I asked, wrapping my hand around his.

“Now we go tell my mom and my grandmother.”

“Today?” I questioned.

He nodded. “I’ve put it off long enough, and I know you’re curious about where I came from.”

“I am,” I said as we walked hand in hand to my Fastback. “But honestly, it doesn’t really matter. You’re my person no matter what.”

“I know, which is why I want to do this.”

Inside the car, I fired up the engine and turned toward him. He kissed me again, just because he finally could. “It’s about an hour drive to my mom’s. We should probably stop and get some French fries.”

“I like the way you think, frat boy.”

We ate burgers and fries on the drive. He at my tomatoes, and I ate half his fries. We held hands over the gearshift and didn’t really talk about where we were going.

We retreated into the world that only existed when we were alone. Mostly, we talked about the GearShark article with Emily next week, racing, and what kind of place we wanted to get when he graduated.

The miles slipped by, and soon, we were pulling up to a small two-story, split-level home. It was brown with black shutters and a one-car attached garage. Hanging above the garage door was a weathered basketball hoop. The yard was small and the landscaping was minimal, but it was neat and clean. The street was lined with other houses that looked very similar, and all the trees on the street were mature.

I thought about how I felt right before we told my parents. Just recalling that day made my stomach twist a little and a knot form in my throat. I looked beside me at Trent, who didn’t appear to be struggling.

“Hey,” I said, pushing aside the way my parents hurt me. “You know what to expect in there?”

He thought it over for a minute. “Yes and no.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“My father left my mom when she told him she was pregnant. He didn’t want a kid, and in my opinion, he must not have wanted her,” he told me. “She raised me as a single mother, but I think it was more out of duty than motherly love. She wasn’t the… warmest mother. She isn’t like your mom. She didn’t hover and she wasn’t overprotective. She worked a full-time job, and then when I got older, she took on a part-time second job, and I spent a lot of time alone.”

Okay, so this was hard to hear. It also wasn’t what I expected. I guess I always assumed T had a pretty good life growing up. Sure, his dad wasn’t around, but that didn’t always mean life sucked.

“I spent a lot of time with my grandma.” He smiled for the first time since bringing up his family. “I call her granny.”

I nodded. That knot in my throat was back.

“So yeah.” He continued and cleared his throat. “I don’t expect much of a reaction because she never really gave one before. I think when I moved out to go to Alpha U, it was more of a relief for her.”

I didn’t understand. Maybe it was because I was raised with a mother who always cared too much (well, until I told her I was in love with a man) and a father who wanted to mold me in his image. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to come home from school to an empty house. To not have my parents show up for school stuff and award ceremonies.

“She ever been to one of your football games?” I asked.

“Not even one.”

I took those words like an arrow to my chest. He played college football for four years. In those four years, she never found time to go to one game?

No wonder he held so much inside. He’d only ever had himself. No wonder he always seemed surprised when our family showed up for him.

No one ever showed up for him before.

As if he sensed his answer upset me, he said, “But Granny watched all my games on TV. She even got a satellite dish so she wouldn’t miss them.”

It was like even now, when he was telling me about his life and the not-so-great life he had growing up, he was trying to make me feel better.