after high school. We were going to go to college together. We would sit in his room, or in my room, or anywhere we could be alone, and we would dream. And kiss. And more. But mostly we would dream. Together.
One night, we were doing a lot more than dreaming when his bedroom door opened and the lights came on. We tried to pull a blanket over us, screaming at his mom to close the door. She stammered an apology and we could hear her run down the stairs. We scrambled to get dressed, swearing.
We heard his dad roar from downstairs. âA fucking faggot? No son of mine!â
âQuick! Out the window!â Taylor said, and I grabbed my jacket, and I kissed him on the lips as I slipped out the window. Climbing down the tree that led up to his bedroom, I could hear his dad slam into his room, yelling. I could hear his mom crying. I could hear Taylor crying. I wanted to go back up, to tell him it was just a word. I wanted to tell him not to cry.
Â
I was twenty-two, and Dinah and I laughed as we walked down the street. We were done with college, and our lives were all ahead of us, and what better way to celebrate than drinking and dancing at the gay bar? It was a Friday night, and we were young, and we were beautiful.
âI told you we should have come earlier,â Dinah said, as we rounded the corner and saw a lineup. âYou always take so long getting pretty.â
âBut it will be worth it if I meet some great guy.â
âWhat about that Aaron guy you went on a date with?â
âWeâll see. It went well. I havenât called him yet.â
âWhy not?â
âI canât seem needy. He can call me.â
âIf you like him, just call him.â
âFAGGOTS!â A bottle came flying out of a car as it sped by, smashing on the sidewalk. We jumped away, as did the other people in line.
âAssholes!â Dinah yelled after them.
âDonât bother, Dinah. Itâs just a word.â
âIt pisses me off though. What are we doing to them? Weâre just here.â
âThatâs all it takes sometimes.â
Chapter 20
I woke up, still at my door. It was the middle of the night, and my neck was sore, my head foggy. As I grabbed myself a glass of water, and put down some food for Griffin, I turned on my phone. It was just what Iâd expected: a bunch of poorly spelled and bitchy texts from Brandon, and one from Jesse just checking in. I turned it off again.
I crawled into my bed and pulled the blankets up over my head. I never thought about Taylor. I never let myself think about Taylor. Iâd run home from his house that day, and told my parents everything, and even though my mom cried and my dad was quiet, they both hugged me and told me I was still their son.
Taylor hadnât been so lucky.
The next morning at school, he wouldnât even look at me. Well, he couldnât even look at me, with his black and swollen eye. I tried to talk to him, and he pushed me away. I tried calling him that night, and his mom asked me not to call there again. I didnât know what to do, but I needed to see him, needed to know he was all right.
I snuck out of my room in the middle of the night and ran to his place, climbed the big tree outside and tossed a couple rocks lightly against his window. Eventually, he opened it up.
âYou canât be here, Alex!â he whispered at me.
âI had to know youâre okay.â
âIâm fine. Go.â
âI donât believe you. Can I come in?â
âNo!â His expression was terrified. âWe canât hang out anymore.â
âI love you, Taylor.â
âDonât say stuff like that. Itâs wrong.â
âNo, itâs not! Itâs real. Two hearts, one heart, remember?â
âYou need to go, Alex. Itâs over.â
âJust tell me youâre okay.â
âIâm going to be fine,â he said. His terror had faded, and his face