Riding With Brighton(76)

Brighton is special too, and he’s had a good life. He hasn’t faced the adversities that you faced last night. Compared to the barriers you had to jump over in order to claim your life as your own, Brighton’s life has been easy. But the one thing he’s never had is a companion. A partner. Someone who loved him the way he is able to love. He would kill me if he knew I was writing this, and I’m a full-on romantic so I’m probably making too much out of this, but I saw the way he looked at you last night, and I saw the way you looked back at him. I watched him comfort you, and I watched you be vulnerable with him. And it gave me hope that he will one day have the love he deserves. The love that seems to surround him but always eludes him.

I don’t want to pressure either of you, but I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I feel like the two of you, together, have something really special. And you have no idea how happy the possibility of that makes me. You have no idea how happy I am that he found you. And that you found yourself.

You are such a strong, amazing man.

Whatever you face today, I’m sure it will be hard. All I can do is hope that you manage to hold tight to the things you told Brighton and me last night. All I can do is hope that all that “bad shit” is really gone.

So, I just wanted to say thank you. And even if it turns out I’m wrong about the two of you and you go your separate ways or you decide to just be friends, I’m glad that you came into our lives.

-Mickey



Tears well in my eyes. I swear to God, I’m not usually such a damn baby. I’m not lying when I say I’ve cried more in the past three days than I have in the past three years. But these tears are happy. I think they’re happy.

I set the paper down, then run my hands over my face—trying to wipe away my emotions. When I look up again, it’s my mom I’m staring at. And her eyes are full of tears too.

She drops her head and then shakes it. “His mom seems amazing,” she says quietly.

“Yeah. I guess she is.”

“I wish I could be like that.”

I take a chance and reach out my hand, laying it on hers. “You are amazing, Mom. And I understand why you’re not as accepting as she is. You can’t compare yourself to her. She didn’t go through what you went through.”

She nods but doesn’t look at me. “What did she mean… when she said she hoped that all the bad stuff is really gone?”

“Nothing, Mom. It’s not a big deal.”

She raises her head; her red eyes look directly into mine. “I want to know, Jay.”

I take my hand from hers and lean back in my chair. “I don’t know. Just the pretending, I guess. I never liked lying to myself or to my family. I didn’t really like myself. I never even really knew myself… until I accepted all of me. Which I wasn’t really able to do until I admitted it to someone else. Until I admitted it to Brighton and Sadie and my friends…. And mostly to you guys—my family. I was never really happy until I was able to be myself.

“I know this hurts you, Mom, but this is who I am. I’m gay. I can’t help it. It’s just who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.”

A tear falls from her eye, and she promptly wipes it away and nods at me. “Okay,” she whispers.

It’s one word. One quiet word. But the significance isn’t lost on me. The meaning isn’t lost on me. “Okay,” I agree.

“You should go,” she says through a smile that’s still tight but sincerer than the ones she’s been giving me. “You’re going to be late for school.”

I nod at her. And then I reach out and wrap my arms around her. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She holds me tightly for a second, and that’s all I need. Participation. Willingness to try.

I stand and look at them for a moment. My parents. Who are willing, or at least trying, to accept me. God, life is crazy. “I’ll see you tonight,” I tell them before turning and heading out the door.

I’m smiling the entire way to my truck. And when I see Brighton’s Bronco parked across the street, I smile even bigger. I try not to sprint as I head down the driveway.

By the time I get to him, he’s out of the truck, leaning against his door with his arms crossed over his chest, a huge smile on his face.

Goddammit, I totally feel like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles. Except Brighton is way hotter than Jake Ryan. And I hope to God I’m more handsome than Samantha Baker. And yes, not only am I terrified of terrifying movies, but I have a thing for John Hughes. Which I’m not telling Brighton. Or anyone else. Ever.

“You’re stalking me,” I tell him, stopping short of him.

“Totally.” He laughs. “You look… happy?”

I shrug. “It’s totally possible. Are you giving me a ride to school?”

“I suppose I can, since I’m already here stalking you.”

I reach a hand around his neck and pull his mouth to mine, giving him a quick kiss before heading around to the passenger side and climbing in.

“God, I missed this thing,” I tell him about the Bronco.

“It’s no longer the same without you in it,” he says, starting it up and pulling down the road. Every few seconds he looks at me with some mischievous, seductive smile on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”