Текст книги "Freeing"
Автор книги: E. K. Blair
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
Turning around, I say, “Seriously. You two have to calm down so we can get you upstairs.”
“You’re so serious,” Emily says in mock sternness, and I shake my head as I open the door to get out.
We help the girls out of the car, and Erin clings herself to me. Walking up the driveway, we hit a patch of ice and Erin goes down, taking me with her as we hit the pavement hard. On my back, I look up to see Mark joining in with his sisters as they all laugh. Picking myself up, and grabbing Erin, we manage to make it inside and up the stairs with minimal noise. Mark finds a bottle of aspirin and says, “I’ll be right back,” as he walks out of the room and down the hall.
I take a quick shower, more for the warmth than anything, and when I walk out of the bathroom, Mark is already in bed. I slip under the covers next to him and he pulls me in close, facing him. “I’m beat,” he breathes out, and I nod my head. “Sorry about being in such a crap mood tonight.”
I wrap my legs around his and ask, “You wanna talk about it?”
He takes his time and then says, “That guy is the reason I moved to Seattle.”
“What happened?”
“We used to see each other during our senior year in high school. I wasn’t out yet, and by the looks of him tonight with that chick, he still isn’t.” He shifts his eyes down when he continues. “He was the first guy I ever got involved with, and at the time, I thought I was in love. But his older brother walked in on us and caught us kissing. That was it. He totally flipped, calling me a faggot and threatening to tell everyone that I was gay if I even looked at him the wrong way.”
“God,” I sigh, wanting to kick the crap out of that guy, but in a way, I also understand him.
“I backed off, but he wound up telling some guys at school right before graduation. They made my life hell, taunting me and shit. Word started spreading, and I knew my sisters would hear about it soon. I was scared my parents would hear it too. It was a really fucked up time, and that’s when I started having trouble sleeping and having nightmares. I was forced into telling them. I was so worried that my secret would ruin the relationship with my family.”
“Why? I mean, they seem so down to earth,” I say.
“Yeah, but I had no idea how they would react to having a gay son. My sisters were mad at me for a while. After that summer, everyone knew. I was already gone to Seattle, but my sisters were here, dealing with everything I had escaped from. When school started back up, they were just known as the sisters of the gay guy that just graduated. They didn’t talk to me for months. It killed me ‘cause I love them so much, and I felt like their being bullied was all my fault, and I just left—I ran away.”
“That’s so messed up.”
“It was a rough time all around,” he says. “But it worked out for me, for all of us. Before I told them though, I honestly thought that they wouldn’t take it well. That it would be done; I’d be out.”
He looks up at me when I infer, “Like me?”
Nodding his head, he admits, “It kills me to know that my fear is your reality.” He rests his forehead against mine and says, “That’s why I wanted you to come here with me. I felt like I needed to give you this.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I ask, “But why me? After what I did with Kyle . . . well, it just doesn’t seem too far off from Carter.”
He doesn’t respond for a while, so when I open my eyes and look into his, he finally tells me, “Because when I ran into you that night at Remedy and you were so honest, the guilt was written all over you, I just knew that I would wind up falling in love with you.”
“I don’t want to imagine not being with you,” I whisper as I lean in and seal my lips with his.
I hold him close, and don’t even question the love I feel for him. I can’t. It’s heavy and palpable. It’s everything I have been missing and makes up for all the time I had been avoiding what was in me. What I was. What I am.
Everyone is in the living room while Andrea and I have spent the majority of the morning in the kitchen. We just cracked a bottle of wine and are making a few things for the family to snack on while we finish up everything for Thanksgiving dinner.
Taking the wrapped Brie out of the oven, I set it on the platter that Andrea has already set out and layered crackers on.
She takes the platter and says, “I’ll be right back,” as she heads to the other room.
I’ve missed having this. I used to have this with my own family, but that feels like forever ago. When she returns, she asks, “Could you get the bag of potatoes out of the fridge for me?”
“Yeah.”
“So who taught you how to cook?” she asks as I hand her the bag, and she dumps them into the sink to wash them.
“My mom. It was something we always did together since I was little.” I step next to her and start chopping the potatoes after she scrubs them.
“Well, I’m impressed,” she says as she hands me another potato. “I hope I’m not intruding, but Mark told me that you haven’t been talking to them much lately.” Looking over at her, she turns to face me. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t be,” I assure her. “Honestly, we haven’t spoken much since my sister died.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she gasps with concern flushed across her face.
“It’s okay. It was a while ago. We were both in high school.”
She turns, leans her hip against the sink, and says, “Can I ask what happened?”
I set the knife down, and turn to face her as well. I’ve never spoken about this to anyone besides Candace. I just briefly told Mark, but I want his mother to know me, to know where I’m coming from, because I love her son, and I want this family to accept me. All of me.
“She was in a car crash with her boyfriend. She was about to graduate. My parents fell apart, and in a way, disappeared. They pretty much stopped talking, and it’s been that way ever since.”
“That’s awful,” she mumbles as she looks down. When her eyes meet mine, she asks, “Have you called them today?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want to?”
I look away because looking into her eyes makes me miss what I used to have with my mom. “I don’t know. Things have gotten worse since . . .” Shifting my eyes back to her, I continue honestly, “ . . . since I told them I was gay.”
She rests her hand on top of mine that’s gripping the edge of the sink, and when she does, I tell her, “They threw me out.”
Not saying a word, she wraps her arms around me, and for a moment, I pretend they’re my mother’s. I wonder if she’ll ever hold me like this again, like she used to so many times in my life. My mind creeps back to reality, and I wonder, through all the hurt I’ve caused people, what I ever did that was so right to deserve this. This right here.
I have to swallow hard against my tightened throat as I try to control the mixture of pain and happiness that wells up inside of my chest. When Andrea pulls back, her eyes are rimmed with tears, and a part of me is comforted by the fact that she cares enough to feel this way.
“You’re amazingly strong,” she says softly, and when I shake my head, she affirms, “You are. I see why my son loves you the way that he does.”
“I don’t deserve him,” I admit.
“It isn’t about deserving; it’s about accepting. None of us deserve anything. Everything we have is a gift, and you have to learn to simply accept what God gives you.”
“Is that what you believe?” I ask her. Her words are such a contrast to everything I’ve ever been told.
She nods her head, and says, “I do.”
And I do too.
“You guys look serious,” Mark says as he walks into the kitchen.
He grabs a beer out of the fridge and his mother says, “Come here.”
He eyes me as he walks towards her, and she gives him a tight hug. Keeping his eyes on me, he chuckles out, “She’s not getting all sappy on you, is she?”
I laugh at him, lightening the mood, and shake my head. When he steps back from her, he looks between the both of us, and I don’t hold back in front of his mom when I tell him, “I love you.”
His smile is big, and he doesn’t skip a beat when he cups his hands along my jaw and kisses me. I take it. I don’t even try to shy away from it. This is what I’ve been needing; what I’ve been missing. Acceptance. And coming from these people, in this house, I know I’m exactly who I’m meant to be. I just needed Mark to show me.
Spending this time with Mark and his family has been great. The past few days have gone by fast, and I finish packing up my bag while Mark gets his things together as well. Everything I worried about before getting on that plane with Mark was immediately negated when I met his family.
Mark smiles at me when he grabs his bag, and I zip up mine. We head downstairs to say goodbye before Mark’s dad drives us to the airport. It feels good knowing it won’t be long until I get to see everyone again. Andrea insisted that I come back for Christmas. She even booked my ticket last night after I had a long talk with her and Mark about my parents. She told me to not give up on them, so I gave them a call when Mark and I went to bed. We didn’t talk long, but it was still nice to hear my mother’s voice. I’m not sure how often we will talk, but I’ll never stop loving them, and I never want to turn away from them no matter how they feel about me.
Loading everything into the car, Ben starts driving toward the airport. When he pulls up to departures, we all hop out and get our things. After Mark says his goodbye, he takes my bag and heads inside to check them while he leaves me with his father.
“I don’t know everything that’s going on with your parents, but I just wanted to let you know that we’re here if you need us.”
Reaching out to shake his hand, I say, “Thanks,” when he gives my hand a tug and brings me in for a hug.
When I take a step back, he smiles and nods before saying, “Give us a call when you guys land, okay?”
“Will do,” I tell him as he gets into the car and drives away.
I make my way inside to find Mark and we get everything checked in and head to our gate. About an hour later, we are in the air, flying back to Seattle. It’s crazy to think about how my whole frame of mind has taken a shift from when I flew out here just a few days ago.
I never should have doubted coming out here to meet Mark’s family. I should have trusted him enough to know that he would have never asked me to come with him if he wasn’t certain that it would be a safe thing for me to do. But he’s always been ahead of me. Confident. He accepted being gay years ago. I’ve been struggling to figure it out for a while when Mark has already known for himself, before ever getting involved with me. He was already there. He’s just been waiting for me to get there as well—and I think I am. I know I am.
I look over at him and take his hand, holding it, lacing my fingers with his. He’s beautiful and perfect and all I’ll ever want. He has no idea what he’s given me. He’ll never understand no matter how much I tell him. Everything I’ve been searching for from the time I realized I was gay, he’s given me: my realization, my understanding, my accepting. He makes it okay for me to be who I was always meant to be.
Before him, I was afraid. Always in denial. I thought that finally coming out to my parents would free me. But it didn’t. It was Mark. It was him that opened me up, that freed me of everything I was so scared of. He will always have everything that’s inside of me that I have to give.
For years I’ve been trying to free myself of these fears, free myself from my tormenting thoughts, free myself from the walls that have kept me trapped in a hole of self-loathing. Since I met Mark, I’ve been fighting. Fighting to be free. But now I realize, it isn’t about fighting. It’s letting go of the fight to see that what I’ve been searching for is within him. Mark is my freeing.
Six Months Later…
“Did you get your cap and gown today?”
“Yeah. I went with Candace earlier,” I respond as I kick my feet up on the coffee table and lean back into the couch.
Sitting next to me, he asks, “How’s she doing?”
“She seems to be doing a little better. I think her finally seeing a therapist is helping the most.”
Nodding his head, he says, “You’re probably right.” He wraps his arms around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “So I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What’s up?”
“My roommate is moving out after graduation, and I was thinking . . . maybe you would want to make it our place.”
Turning to look at him straight on, I clarify, “You mean move in?”
He nods and says, “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” Mark and I spend most nights together anyway, but it’s the knowing. Knowing that he’s serious and in this as much as I am to want to live with me.
“You’re it for me, Jase. I want to be with you. Only you. And I want to make my home with you.”
I smile big. This past year with Mark has been nothing short of perfect. Even with the downs, they have been what has bonded us so tightly together. I’ve never been so connected with another person.
I lean over and kiss him, grazing my teeth along his lower lip and sliding my tongue along his as he fists the hair on the back of my head. I climb over him, lowering him on his back as we continue to kiss.
Everything is changing, but having this makes it more bearable. When Candace told me she accepted a job dancing in New York City, I couldn’t have been more happy for her, but inside, my stomach was in knots. It had been a long time since I cried, but when I went to Mark’s place to tell him, I lost it. I hate the thought of not having her with me. She’s been my heart for so many years. She still is, but now she shares it with Mark, and having him to lean on when I’m losing a big part of me, makes the change seem okay.
Dragging his lips off of mine, he insists, “Be with me. Tell me you’re mine and that this is it for you.”
Looking down at him, into those green eyes I have fallen so in love with, I give him my affirmation. “I’ve only ever been yours.” When he runs his hand around the back of my neck, I vow, “You’re it for me,” before lowering myself, pressing my lips softly against his, and I’m here—I’m home.
Struggling with your sexual identity? There is support out there.
The GLBT National Help Center provides several support programs along with
two national hotlines.
http://www.glbtnationalhelpcenter.org
GLBT National Hotline supports callers of all ages with concerns/questions about coming-out issues, relationship concerns, HIV/AIDS, anxiety, safer-sex information, and lots more.
Toll-free 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)
GLBY National Youth Hotline is comprised of volunteers that are in their teens and early twenties and speak with teens and young adults up to age 25 about coming-out issues, relationship concerns, parent issues, school problems, HIV/AIDS, anxiety, safer-sex information, and lots more.
Toll-free 1-800-246-PRIDE (1-800-246-7743)
Hotline Hours:Monday thru Friday from 1pm to 9pm, pacific time;Saturday from 9am to 2pm, pacific time
This book would have never been written if it weren’t for all of you who read Fading and fell in love with Jase. I never planned on writing Jase’s story, but when you, the fans, started emailing and asking for his, I knew I had to give it to you. Thank you so much for encouraging me to write this book.
This story hits deep in my heart and despite the few people who suggested that I not write a gay book, I stood up for what I have always believed in—human rights. I love that I have this platform to share the stories that lie within me and that I am surrounded by people who support me.
To my husband, you not only rallied behind me, but you gave up many nights to read and re-read my manuscript, offering critiques, plot altering ideas, and guidance with Jase’s story. You have proven to not only be my biggest driving force, but also one heck of a proofreader! You know my heart, and I am so blessed that you have my back. My ‘thank you’s’ will run forever deep for you.
Gina Smith, thank you for helping me conceptualize this story from the beginning elements of development. I will never forget a conversation that you and I had in the beginning stages of this book when you, in all seriousness, told me how proud you were of me for having the courage to write this book. I never told you how much your words affected me, but they did—immensely. You’re amazing and the time you put in, plotting, editing, encouraging, and everything else you do is more than what I deserve, but I’ll take it!
My wonderful editor, Lisa Christman, I love your honesty. But what I love most is that, from the get go, you know we will fight and that I will defend all my words to you, but you stand by me and together we not only work hard, but we laugh—a lot. I love you for arguing with me and guiding me to better writing. You are an amazing friend, and I just can’t thank you enough.
Rene and Ben Langston, you guys are truly amazing. Thank you Rene for assisting me again with the hospital scenes and making sure I’m accurate with what I am writing. And Ben . . . wow! You took the time to read and edit my manuscript, and you not only polished it up, but you made the tedious task of running line edits so much fun with your humorous notes. The excitement you both share with me encourages me, and I love that I have the support of you two.
I have an amazing team that lie in the shadows of my books but shine so brightly in my life—my betas. You all not only spend countless hours hacking through my writing and helping me produce books I’m so proud of, but you are out there promoting and supporting. You help me perfect all the minute details; you stay up into the late hours when I decide to add a scene when we are two weeks away from publishing; you do a whole new read-though when I add an entire new plot line after the book is already written and edited. I know I might drive you girls crazy, but you stand solid with me, and I love each and every one of you for that! Thank you Nicki, Jennifer, Jennie, Kristina, JL, Elizabeth, Nacole, JC, Jenn, Lisa, America, Ashley, and Tina.
Thank you to Andrei Vishnyakov for the beautiful cover photo—it’s stunning. Thank you Denise and Nicola for supporting my books, especially this one. Denise, all of your words mean so much to me. You two are nothing less that incredible. Thank you to all of the bloggers and reviewers who have picked up my books and took the time to read, review, and promote. Thank you to all of my friends and family, but most of all, to each and every one of you who open your hearts and minds to my stories. THANK YOU!
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