into each fucked-up memory.
“To think they were trying to ‘protect’ me from the truth when we should have been protecting him.”
“James, you didn’t know.”
“But why didn’t I know?”
“He didn’t tell you.”
Kyle was only trying to help, but it couldn’t change the truth.
“He shouldn’t have needed to tell me. He was my brother. There were so many times when I could tell he was struggling, going through something, I just didn’t know what. I would ask, and he would say that work or school was hard. I was never really very interested in guys or girls, so I didn’t think much like everyone else. It wasn’t even on my radar, but I wish I’d mentioned that if he was gay, or bi, or anything, I would have loved him just the same. I thought we had the kind of relationship where he felt he could come to me and— Jesus. Fuck me.”
A flood of emotions overwhelmed me. I spent so much of my life keeping these memories at bay, but now I was letting them flow from my mouth, and it brought up even more pain than I’d anticipated.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned swiftly to see Kyle beside me.
Fuck no.
I could tell by the look in his eyes that he just wanted to be there for me while I was in pain, but he was so close, and I was so fucking weak.
“I just wonder how I didn’t ask the right questions, or if I wasn’t really listening. I remember sometimes he would give me this look, like there was something he needed to tell me. And I should have pressed, or figured something was wrong, but I was so fucking selfish that I never…”
“There was no way you could have known what he was thinking back then. You only know now because you’ve seen the letters and journal entries. He wouldn’t have wanted you to put this on yourself like this.”
His sympathy, his kindness, his hand against my shoulder…it was all too much for me.
“Kyle, I know you mean well, but can you please not touch me right now?”
His eyes widened as he pulled his hand away, looking stunned, hurt by my request. His gaze wandered the room, as though he was having a hard time understanding what he’d done wrong. “I’m…I… What did I…”
“Kyle, I didn’t mean that it wasn’t thoughtful or that I didn’t want your support. It’s just…complicated.”
His expression tensed up. “No, you’re making it complicated. There’s nothing complicated about what we’re doing right now. Or that I want to be here for you. Or that I want… God, I can’t even say what I want because I’m worried you’re going to freak the moment I spit the words out.”
I tucked the brochure and picture on the bookshelf behind me as I rose to my feet. This was a conversation that needed to be had eye to eye, man to man.
“Whether we like it or not, you’re my student,” I said, not just for his sake, but my own. Reminding myself why the hell even the conversation we’d just shared was a mistake.
No, not a mistake, but wrong.
“This isn’t appropriate.” I regretted saying the words, but it was the truth, and I had to admit that, to myself, to Kyle.
“Fuck what’s appropriate. Is that why you brought us into your office, put this desk between us? You tell me about your brother, and you think I’m not going to want to console you?”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to be honest with yourself. You think I like this any more than you do? You think you’re the only one who’s struggling with what’s happening between us? You think I woke up one day, thought I’d get the hots for some rule-following, pushover nerd who isn’t fucking man enough to say what he really wants in this world?”
Damn, that one hurt, but it was true.
“It isn’t fair or right that you put this wall up,” he continued, “but then open these doors just enough to show me these beautiful things inside you that I don’t even think you see sometimes. But then, just when I think they’re going to open even more, they snap back shut, every time.”
“I was just trying to be there for you, see why you were so hurt, and I thought…”
“Don’t lie to me or yourself. You wanted to get inside me as much as I wanted to get inside you. And everything we’ve