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“Same story a thousand other gay teenagers could tell. Got outed by some Neanderthal, his homophobe friends made my life miserable, I thought about killing myself, and then finally got the fuck out of that town before I did wind up dead, either by their hands or my own.”
“People suck.” He nods in agreement. “Did I tell you I ran into Andrew a while ago?”
“When?” Mike asks, a smile spreading across his face.
“Last spring. He let me and a friend into the go-kart place for free. He asked about you.”
He nods and chuckles. “You knew about us?”
“I followed you a few times when you snuck off into the woods.”
He winces. “Sorry, little brother. Did I scar you for life?”
“Me?” I put a hand on my chest, pretend I’m offended. “Hey asshole, I’m open-minded.”
Brandon comes back in as Mike says, “I always feel bad when I think about him. He’s still living there, probably still taking shit from those ignorant clowns.”
“What did I miss?” he asks as he put the grocery bag down on the counter.
Mike says, “Just talking about Andrew.” Brandon squeezes his shoulder as he passes by on his way to the fridge. “They kicked his ass when it was just a rumor. Can you imagine if they actually caught him in the act?”
“They would have killed him.” I state it as fact.
“And me right along with him.”
“You think it’s still the same there?” Brandon asks. “I mean, so much has changed in just the past five years.”
Mike smirks and shakes his head, but I’m not so inclined to agree. “Maybe it is better. I mean, I don’t think it’s as safe to come out there as it is in New York or Chicago or any other big city, but I also don’t buy into that stereotype that the majority of people who live in rural areas are intolerant.”
Mike pauses on his way to the stove. “I don’t either, but it’s the minority sometimes, the select few who tend to talk the loudest and punch the hardest.”
I nod, acknowledging what sucks but is often true. “They did make Andrew’s life a living hell for a while there.”
Brandon wraps and arm around Mike’s shoulder. “I work with a mechanic named Danny. Nice guy, but Brandon hates him for no good reason.”
My brother and I look at each other and say in unison, “Danny Duncan.” Mike adds, “Yeah, and take note…If we have kids someday we won’t be naming any one of them Danny, Blaze, Wes, or Christian.”
Brandon is wide-eyed. “Blaze?” I can’t help but laugh, even though those names don’t exactly conjure up happy memories for the Wade family. Brandon cocks his head. “Maybe living with that name made him mean.”
Mike plates our dinners at the small kitchen island. “Thanks again for having me over. This looks great.”
“You’re always welcome,” Brandon says as Mike nods with a mouthful of food.
I clear the plates after we finish. Mike sits back looking on, sipping the last of his beer. “Are you sure nothing’s up? You don’t seem right.”
“I’m, uh, a little homesick if you can believe it.”
“Funny, as we no longer have a home to return to in our hometown, but I guess I can understand missing what’s familiar.”
“Did Mom tell you I was dating a girl?”
“Ah, a girl.” He smiles. “No, she didn’t mention that. But in fairness, she’s been a bit of a hot mess lately between Timmy, packing up the trailer and moving to North Carolina.” He waits me out for a minute and then says, “Tell me about her.”
I have my back turned. “I was going out with Christian Mason’s sister, Charlotte.”
“Really? That must have been interesting. Is he still— ”
“Yes, he’s still a smug, mean-spirited punk.”
