In Pain

Season 2 | Chapter 19

Stand-Up

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All persons, names, places, descriptions, and events are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, names, places, descriptions, or events is totally accidental and a pure coincidence.

This is a love story and at this time, limited sexual activity, but that will change with time.

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Two days. It had been two days. Two days ago, I was the star quarterback and every girls' dream. I was still the latter, but as the ex-starting quarterback, my world as I knew it had been flipped upside down.

And it had been three days since Ryan came out to the basketball team and summarily the school.

Coming home today was anything but a joyride. Now my world was changing, again. No longer was I the star quarterback who had everything going for him. Now I was the anomaly, the guy no one understood. The all-American boy who quit football...and for what?

Only 25 hours ago I was the captain of the state runner-up. Now, I'm just another student number. And to my father, a quitter. Tonight would be the first time I'd have dinner with the family since they heard the news and the first time I'd see my father since he berated me in the living room. His words still rang in my ears: "I'm not proud of you today."

My hands were gripping tightly around my steering wheel as I directed my car towards a place I hardly felt comfortable anymore. It was now Thursday, and I had three goals for the night.

One -- make it through dinner without making a scene.

Two -- Enjoy a fun evening with my brother.

Three -- Ask Jake out on a real date.

I opened the front door to begin task One. My mother was already home and before I even placed my second foot inside the house, the aroma of fresh banana bread cascaded down over me. I pulled the door shut and ran up the stairs. I threw my bag down at the foot of my bed and as I turned to walk over to my brother's room, I stopped. It wasn't the smell emanating from the kitchen or the nicely made bed which was surely compliments of my mother.

It felt different. I felt different. From the moment I'd walked into the house, I was in a good mood.

I felt relaxed for some reason. At this point, it was almost as if this weight had been lifted off my shoulders. On the drive home, I had been about as tense as I could possibly be. But walking into the house, even knowing the future battles that were ahead of me, especially with my father, I knew deep in my heart that I was finally taking a stand for who I really was and who I really wanted to be.

I knew dinner tonight would be a stressful time, but I still had to move forward. It was quickly becoming my job to help move my parents forward too.

I peaked my head around the door-frame into Mike's room and said, "Me... you... video games tonight." Before he could turn me down, I turned about and bounced down the stairs to help my mother with dinner.

As I made my way into the kitchen, I stopped myself in the doorway. My mother had her back to me and was peeling potatoes into the sink. She had her favorite apron on and already had multiple items strewn about in the kitchen. I loved it when my mother would cook.

My mother and I always had a great relationship. Dad was the tough one on me; he was always pushing me to be better, to work harder, to be the best. Mother wasn't like that. Like most mothers, she did her best to nurture me, to show me flowers and love.

Up until this point, the last year, life had been easy. I had great relationships with both my parents. I had a great relationship with my brother. I had great friends. And although for the most part, the last one was still intact, my relationship with my brother was strained. My relationship with my parents was falling apart. Tonight would be about mending that fence. I wanted them to be a part of my life. I wanted to them to know I was gay and be a part of that.

For the last year, I had been battling with this secret and now that I was slowly telling more and more people, it was becoming something that more and more people I told the more and more I didn't want to keep it a secret. Especially now that I was dating Jake, I wanted everyone to know the me that made me smile. I hoped with every fiber of my being that my parents would be receptive to this new piece of me.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down on one of the barstools behind mother and said, "So, how can I help?" In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have scared her like that... seeing as how she was using a very sharp knife -- peeling the very potatoes she intended on serving me.

But mothers are rarely surprised. Looking at me with exasperated eyes, "Why, yes honey," she said, smiling. "Could you please slice that lemon..." She kept going while I started to follow her every word. I was all jumbled together so I just tried my best to not screw anything up.

It was fun being in the kitchen with mom. Rarely had it just been me and her -- anywhere. Now, I was in her domain. Now I was encroaching on her territory.

It was my olive branch.

I was pretty much working in silence because I truly didn't know what to say. Even with my recent personal triumphs, I was still a scared little boy.

Luckily my brother saved me, barging into the kitchen to set the table. Just then, the back door opened and my father came in, and unlike my mother, he didn't smile when he saw me.

"Hey dad," I said, hoping that he might give me the latitude of his anger. It wasn't an angry reply, just worn out I think. "Hi son," and he walked out of the room.

I hung my head, tears welling up in my eyes; it might have been the onion or it might have been the hurt I was feeling inside. My father didn't even want to talk to me anymore. If this is how it is when I quit football, how can he ever even want to have me in the house when I finally do come out to them?

I heard the knife blade cling against the granite counter and the next thing I felt was my mother's arms around my shoulders as she gave me a hug from behind. I think she saw the one tear hit the counter. Instinctively she turned me around and wrapped her loving arms around me and pulled me close into her -- like she always had. I prayed she would never stop.

Neither of us said a word. We didn't need to.

Thirty minutes later, all four of us were seated at our round kitchen table with a bountiful meal around us prepared mostly by my mother, but finished by me. I sat opposite my bother and my mother was on my left and my father my right.

My father put his left hand out to me and his right hand out to my brother, then my brother and I did the same, and soon, we are all connected through our hands. My father began, "Lord, please bless this food we are about to eat. Thank-you for bringing us all home safely. Please guide us in our struggles and keep us a strong family. In Your name -- Amen."

After the prayer, we ate in relative silence. I think we were all scared of dad's mood. I had set the tone the night before and I don't think anyone wanted a repeat of that; most of all: me.

"So," my father began, pointing his fork at me, "quit anything else today?" My mother let out a quick exhale as the blood flushed to my face and my stomach hit the floor. "Well, he didn't tell me last night, he probably wouldn't tell me tonight, would you Andrew?"

I didn't look up from my food, that no longer looked edible. That's how my father felt. He hated me.

"Dad," I said ever so quietly.

"What Andrew?" he shot back. "You're going to have to stop mumbling if you want to be heard. I mean honestly Andrew, how can I trust you anymore? How can I look into your eyes and believe you're being honest with me? How do I know if I go out and push you to do something that you're not just going to waste my time?"

I could feel six eyes all focused on me. My brother's were most certainly darting between all three of us -- waiting to see who would blink first. My mother would we watching my father to try to keep him calm and watch for her moment to jump in. And my father -- his eyes were locked on me.

"Well?"

I sucked in every bit of oxygen I could find. "It's not like that dad and you know it," I said sarcastically. "I just needed to move on from something that wasn't a positive environment for me or the team."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Andrew!" he said, sitting his fork down forcefully on his plate.

"Dad, come on! You're not even listening to me. I mean really, have you even asked any follow-up questions? How about: `Gee son, why didn't you come to me and tell me first? Or Gee son, what's going on in your life to make you think you couldn't keep playing? Or how about this one: Son, you know I love you and I will be proud of you no matter what.' But no, I get that me, your son, is a waste of your time. Thanks dad."

In a much more somber tone my dad said, "Now Andrew, you know that's..." I looked at my mother and asked, "May I be excused?"

She looked at me and then my father, giving him a stern glance, "Yes, dear." I slid my chair across the tile floor and left my food sitting there for them to stare at.

I walked out of the dining room, to the stairs and started up the stairs to my room. I'd done it. I'd stood up to my father.

* * * * *

I was laying on my bed, tossing a football up into the air, watching it come close to the ceiling in my room, then eyeing the ball back into my hand to do it all again.

I could watch that all day long. Watch how the ball spins as it comes off my fingers. Watch as the ball comes close enough to the ceiling to see a shadow form, but not close enough to stop the ball from spinning. Watch as the ball, still spinning lands safely back in my hand. The perfect pass.

Oh boy, I was already missing it. I could already sense myself losing the smell of the grass in my nose. The smell of freshly cut, freshly painted grass. The first smell you get when you slide your helmet on and get ready to play this game. I closed my eyes for a moment to remember... just one more time. One more thrill. One more pass.

I heard a knock at my door which knocked me out of my fantasy world. "Alright, come over so I can kick your ass bro," Mikey said without even stopping.

I smiled and hopped off my bed and b-lined it for his room, meeting him there as he made it to his bed. Before he could stop me, I left my feet and tackled him onto his bed, stunning him. Not to be outdone, he lunged at me the moment I stopped to take a breath.

He was able to get one arm between my crotch and the other under my arm-pit; this was not going to be good. In one swift motion, he threw me off the bed and onto the floor. It was on.

The sight of brothers wrestling must be odd for someone who has never seen it before. It's a passionate battle. Neither can lose. Neither will lose. We went at it until we heard father yelling at us from below to stop it. That tone. We knew it well. We stopped and caught our breath.

We started with the obvious: football. I can't tell you how many times that X-Box controller "slipped" out of both of our hands, but it did... a lot! What can we say, we're both competitive.

The trash talk was actually kept to a minimum, but we had fun. After I lost the football game, which I was none too happy about, I picked something more relaxing: Harry Potter. I'd never read the books, but the games were fun.

Then out of nowhere, "So, are you dating anyone now?" For the second time in almost as many hours, my stomach hit the floor and the blood rushed to my face.

"Not really," I said, which wasn't a lie really -- but it wasn't the truth.

He laughed. "What does that mean bro?" I just shook my head and laughed. Then he hit me. "Come on dude, just tell me!"

Here was my chance. I could just tell him and then it would all be out in the open. I could finally be myself with my brother -- and one step closer to tell my parents.

"Well, I'm kinda seeing someone, but we haven't made it official just yet, so we're not really telling anyone." Well, I still hadn't lied and I hadn't given it away just yet.

"Whatever dude," he said laughing.

That was it for the serious stuff. We quickly got back to the normal banter of brothers. Then I looked at the clock.

"Oh crap dude. It's almost midnight and I needed to call Kole at ten," I said.

"Yeah, I should probably get to bed too," Mikey said.

I got up to leave and started to close his bedroom door behind me, but Mikey's voice stopped me.

"Hey Andrew... You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you, right?" He had a look on his face like he already knew what I needed to tell him. And if it wasn't that, it was just a look that after what I hadn't told him earlier this week was something he never wanted to feel again.

I half-heartedly smiled at him, "Yeah." I shut the door.

* * * * *

Arriving back in my own room, my safety net, I pulled out my cell phone and took in a deep breath. I'd failed at mission One for the night, but successfully completed mission Two. Now I had one final step.

It barely rang once and the voice on the other end of the line brought the biggest smile of the day to my face. "Hey!" Jake yelped. I thought about hanging up or just doing small talk the whole time. I could still chicken out. I'd only ever asked out one person before and that had been Vanessa. That's the same time I hurt her by not being interested and I didn't want to do the same to Jake.

"Hey yourself. It sounds like someone is a little excited to see my name pop up on their phone?"

"Um... duh! You know I love hearing from you." He did -- and I did too. I didn't say anything more... I was working up the guts to do what needed to be done.

"Hey Andrew... what's wrong? Did something happen tonight? Is it your brother? Was it your dad again? Should I come over?" He really was a true sweetheart. Since we'd first started talking a month or so ago, he'd always been sweet to me -- the one to make sure I was okay, rather than the other way around.

"No!" I blurted out. Wait -- this is happening all wrong. I well back into my chair. Why was I already screwing this up? While this could be a big moment in my steps towards being totally out, it wasn't the only one and this wouldn't make or break me.

In a much softer and shyer and more scared tone, "Is it me?" How could he even think that? After all the conversations we'd had, the laughter and the tears, he had to know how I felt about him.

I let out a deep exhale, "Not even close Jacob. You know it would never be you. You're the guy I want."

"Then please tell me what's going on...?

I smiled. I was going to do it! "Jake," I started, my voice betraying me with the slightest of cracks, "I was wondering if you weren't... ah... doing anything... tomorrow night... if you might... want... to go... uh... on a date with me...?" There! I'd done it.

I'd finally asked out another boy and what a feeling! And now the wait...

I heard a sniffle. "Are you okay Jake?" I asked.

"Of course I'm okay silly. I'm just really... I don't know... excited that you've just asked me out."

"Well...?" I said wondering if he was ever going to say yes.

"Silly! Of course! I would love to go out with you tomorrow night." We talked a bit more about our days and worked out the details for the following night's firsts for us.

All in all, not a bad day.

While dinner didn't go like I'd planned, I had still had a great night with my brother and the next night, I'd be going on my first date with a boy! I thought back to when I first told Kole I was gay -- and how nervous I was. It was going to get harder before it got easier.

* * * * *

Today was by far the best day of the week. First -- it's Friday, how possibly bad could it ever be? All day, I had been literally bouncing off the walls in anticipation of my first date with Jake. In fact, my first date with a boy -- ever!

I know Kole knew something was up when at lunch, he whispered to me to find out what the hell was going on, and I told him. He just hit me on the leg and smiled. Just like that I had his approval.

The last class was almost unbearable. Once the final bell rang, I would be on my way to the gym to work off some of this energy that was boiling through my veins, then I'd go home and get ready for this date I was having.

The bell finally chimed the beginning of possibly the best night of my life. I walked... very quickly to my truck and drove to the gym. I went into the locker room, changed clothes quickly and then went to the treadmill.

I always like to start with a short run to get my blood flowing a little bit. Plus, it's best to have the muscles warmed up in this fashion before `pumping iron.' I know I'm not a big muscularly guy; I don't want to be. I just like being toned. Jake is and I know he likes that about me too. I've spent my life around guys who keep their bodies in shape.

Now at the gym, I'm surrounded by three types of people. First, there is the group of people just like me. They like being healthy and have nicely toned bodies. Second, there are those that work out to stay healthy or maybe just to get healthy. It feels good to see them here, taking control of their lives. Finally, there are the `meat-heads', those that are really pumping iron and taking supplements to have huge bulging muscles.

Finishing my warm-up, I went over to the blue balls, no pun intended, to do my ab workout. As I grabbed for the ball, someone else did too. I looked and it was a familiar face! It was Ryan from school. The gay Ryan.

We exchanged handshakes and a quick small-talk. Then he offered to join me in my work-out. I had been excited to just get back to working out again, but to have someone there to workout with was an added bonus.

Talking the whole time, he could sense something was on my mind. "Andy, what's up man? You've got something on your mind."

I just smiled. "I have a date tonight."

He smiled even bigger. "Someone hot I hope," he said, winking at me.

"Hell yeah he's hot!" I exclaimed. Ryan's eyes got big and I realized why. I'd said that much louder than anticipated. The bar I was benching slowly inched it's way toward my chest with was devoid of oxygen now. Luckily Ryan was there to stop it from crashing down on me.

There I lay, stunned that I had outed myself to everyone around me. But, something was odd.

"Hey you down there," Ryan said breaking my silence. "Maybe we should stop for the day?"

"Nah, lets finish with a jog."

We headed back over to the treadmills to do a quick cool down. We talked a little bit more about school, about the dance coming up and about the big basketball game the next night. If they won, they would make the playoffs.

The more and more I talked with Ryan, the more and more I understood what it meant to be gay and how to handle that. I knew with each passing day, I was getting closer and closer to telling everyone that I was gay and that was why I didn't have a girlfriend. While I was dating Jake and loved everything that entailed, I also enjoyed the random moments I was able to share with my other gay friend.

The way Ryan had carried himself the last few days was an inspiration to me and who I wanted to become. When it was just me who was gay, I wasn't sure I would fit into the `gay world.' Now, having Ryan as a friend made me believe that I wouldn't be looked down upon as I first thought. I wouldn't have to develop an innate love for fashion or makeup or a girly voice. Until now, that's all I had been taught from my world. Now, through Ryan, I realized I could just be me.

We finished the run and parted ways. As I walked out of the gym and was fumbling with my keys, it hit me: no one had come over and hit me in the face when I outed myself. No one said anything. Maybe it was because no one heard. But I wanted to believe it was because no one cared. So what if I was gay. I was just another guy working out.

Ryan was off to rest up for the big game, and me to go get ready for my first date with a boy.

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Personal: Sorry about the delay everyone! I know I always say that, but this time, I really mean it. It had been my goal to get you this chapter around New Year's, but my time with my family and Nathanael just didn't allow me to even start. That said... this was a fun one to write. As I was writing it, I came up with numerous different places to take the story. I've been grappling with where to end it -- and trust me -- there will be an ending. I still haven't decided. I could end it tomorrow and I think some of you would be okay with that. Others will always want more. It's the ultimate Catch 22 with a writer -- to ensure that the characters have expressed all they need to, that they have shown you and taught you what was needed. But mostly, that their stories are true to their characters. For this story, we're not there yet on that last account. But it's a battle I soon need to figure out so I can block-out the rest of this story. I'm not going to put a timetable on when to finish this story, but no matter which direction I choose to go, I will end it by July 2009. No questions. Thanks as always for reading.

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