Breaking Free by Isabel Lucero

26

WatchingTrevor come out to Jayden was pretty endearing. He handled it well, and though I could tell he was looking to me for some help, that was his moment. I don’t have any expectations as far as him coming out to everyone now, but at least he felt comfortable enough to tell one of his closest friends.

When I get home, Mom eyes me with amusement from the couch. “Have fun?”

I grin. “Yeah.”

“Anyone special?”

I shrug as I sit next to her. “You never know, do you?”

She shifts, placing her mug next to her on the end table. “What do you mean?”

“How do you know if someone is special? You’re only seeing what they want you to see in the beginning. Sometimes that lasts a while, but true colors always come out.”

“Are you being yourself with him?” she questions.

“Yeah.”

“So why do you assume he’s putting on a front?”

I look away, staring at the coffee table. I remember me and Mom going to buy this one after my dad pushed me so hard that I fell into the last one and broke it.

“Dad put on a front for a while, didn’t he?”

She releases a soft sigh. “I suppose so, but not everyone is your father. I know he disappointed you, and I know he was the only male figure in your life, but not all men will be that way.”

When I don’t say anything, she continues.

“You’ve never brought anyone home.”

“You know how Dad felt about me being gay.”

“You never told me you were dating anyone.”

“I’ve never dated anyone.”

“Dominic,” she says, putting her hand on my arm and tugging until I look at her. “Why are you closing yourself off?”

I inhale deeply, my shoulders dropping as I blow it out. “If I’m in control, I can make sure things go the way I want them to. If I date someone, it opens up the door to losing that control.”

“So you’re trying to control your own feelings by keeping things casual?”

“I don’t want to become vulnerable, and he’s—” I stop myself.

“He who?” she questions.

“This guy I’m...messing around with. I don’t know.”

“He’s making you feel vulnerable?”

“He has the ability to.”

“Dominic,” she says, joy in her voice. “You really like him. I’m sure he feels the same way about you.”

I snort, a grin on my lips. “It’s a little complicated. He’s not out yet. Not to everyone. And that’s fine with me, or it was.” I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts together. “Him being closeted was fine when this was just for fun and casual, but now I don’t know what’s happening, and a few people know about us, and it’s starting to feel a little more serious.”

“And you’re panicking?”

“Internally, maybe. We haven’t talked about what we’re doing or when it’ll end. We’re just drawn to each other.”

“So he doesn’t know where you stand when it comes to relationships?” I shake my head. “Then maybe you need to talk to him.”

Feeling uncomfortable with the heaviness of the topic, I switch it. “Maybe. So tell me what you’ve been up to.”

She stares at me for a few seconds, her lips pursed. “Well, I’ve cleared out some of your father’s things—donated half, trashed some others. I redid the room a little to have it a little more to my liking, and I’m going to head out later to do some grocery shopping.”

Her bright eyes and smile lets me know she’s proud of herself.

“That’s good, Mom. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, honey. I think I’m gonna be okay, you know? I won’t lie, I still struggle a little, and part of me wonders if it’s because I never got the chance to really tell him how I felt. I had so many fantasies about being brave enough to stand up to him and tell him off before walking out the door, and I never got that moment. Then I feel bad for feeling sad for myself— not because he’s dead, but because I didn’t get what I wanted.”

I take her hand and squeeze. “It’s okay to feel like that.”

“I never wished him dead,” she says. “I’d never wish that on anyone. I just wanted him gone. I hoped he’d get tired of me and just choose to leave.”

“He let it be known you’d never be able to leave him,” I say. “What happened to him was your way out. If he never died, you’d never be free.”

She nods. “Anyway, I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

* * *

It’shours later when my phone dings with an alert. I scoot back from the desk in my room where I was doing homework and check it.

Campbell:Hey

I grinat his simple message.

Me:Hey

He’s probably rollinghis eyes at me now, because I didn’t say more, but I know he has to have texted me for a reason, so this is just me making him get to the point without me having to drag it out of him.

Campbell: What’re you doing right now?

Me: Homework. You?

Campbell: I just left my parents house

Me: Oh?

My heart picksup speed a little and I don’t know whether it’s out of fear or excitement. Did he come out to them? If so, what does that mean? I like him. I really do. But am I ready for an actual relationship? Does he think that once he’s out to everyone that we’ll be together? Do I want that? My initial response is fuck yes, but my lifetime of trauma comes rearing its ugly head and I think maybe it’s best if we keep things casual.

Campbell: Yeah. You alone? Can I go over?

I’ve never been tooprideful, but after seeing both Trevor and Dex’s houses, and knowing all of them come from money, the idea of him seeing my house gives me pause. I’m not a rich kid, and my past is far from ideal. Letting him come over feels a lot like letting him closer to the vulnerable parts of me, and I don’t think I’m ready for that.

Me:I can meet you somewhere. That burger place again?

Campbell: Okay. Be there in fifteen.

It takesme a little over twenty minutes because my house is on the outskirts of town, but when I show up, Trevor’s sitting at a table outside, his leg bouncing. When he spots me, it stops, and he grins.

“Hey.”

My lips pull up on one end. “You’re a man of many words.”

He makes a noise, his eyes rolling upwards. “Didn’t know there was a specific way I was supposed to greet you.”

“The way you greeted me last night is acceptable.”

His cheeks flush. “I don’t think all these people would appreciate that scene.”

I bite down on my lip. “Not like I did.”

His smile widens as he glances away, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

Before he can say anything, Coach Bennett walks by, spotting us. “Oh hey, boys.”

“Hey Coach.”

“Hey,” we both say at the same time.

“Ready for Glen Prep?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Will I be playing?” Trevor asks, a little bite in his tone.

“Now you know it’s all dependent on your performance at practice. You’re good, Campbell. Just distracted, I think.”

He looks at me briefly. “Right. Well, I think I’ll be good.”

“And I’m always good,” I say with a wink.

Coach shakes his head, and then does a double take as he gazes behind me. “Camila?”

I jolt around at the sound of my mom’s name and sure enough she’s strutting this way with a bag in her hand.

“Liam,” she says with a small smile. “How nice to see you.” Her eyes find me. “Hey, Dom. Who’s this?” Her eyes bounce to Trevor who wears a look of confusion.

“This is Trevor.”

She looks at me before giving Trevor her attention. “Hi, Trevor.”

He smiles. “Hi.”

“So, how are you?” Coach asks her, his head doing the sympathetic tilt.

“I’m doing okay,” she answers with a nod. “Day by day, you know?”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s good to hear. You know you can let me know if you ever need anything.”

“I appreciate that,” she replies with a grin. “I’m just thankful you helped my boy here.”

“Of course,” he says. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of your hair. See you boys tomorrow.”

Once he’s gone, Mom lingers. “So…” her eyes bounce between me and Trevor and I know she’s wondering if this is the guy I was talking about. “I was just heading down the street to the bakery, then I’m heading home.”

“Okay, I won’t be out too late. I have more homework to do.”

She smiles at Trevor again. “Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” he replies.

After she’s gone, he stares at me with furrowed brows. “So your family does know Coach? And he did help you get on the team? Is that why you’re in my spot?”

I sigh, not wanting to fight about this. “It’s not like that.”

“That’s funny, because I literally just heard the conversation. They seem to have a pretty decent relationship, and he helped you. How else did he help you if not by making sure you played on his team?”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

“Then fucking tell me what it is.”

“Yes, he helped. So did my coach back at Grand Valley. I told you my dad died. They helped get me transfered.”

His anger is palpable. “I think it’s much more than that. You didn’t even start at Grand Valley, and now you get here where the coach has some sort of relationship with your mom, and now you’re starting. You didn’t even try out.”

I inhale deeply through my nose, trying not to get upset. I can understand how it may look, but I don’t like the insinuation of my mom and Coach being in any sort of relationship. “There was no guarantee I’d be a starter, they just wanted to make sure I stayed on the team. My other coach felt like I needed it. The discipline. The distraction.”

His eyes narrow on me briefly before he looks away. “Sure.”

I sigh, standing up. “Okay, well, believe what you want, Campbell. I’m only starting because I’m better than you.”

He shakes his head. “Just perfect.”

“What?”

He gazes up at me. “I came out to my parents, and I was so excited to tell you about it, just to have this happen.”

“Nothing happened, Campbell.”

“Except me finding out why I really got benched.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re a lying asshole. I told my parents I had met someone.” He laughs humorlessly. “Joke’s on me, I guess.”

“I didn’t tell you to tell them about me. In fact, I told you not to come out because of me.”

“I didn’t come out for you. I explained that,” he says, standing up and meeting my gaze. “And I wanted to tell them about you. I thought—”

“Thought what?”

“Just forget it,” he says before turning and storming off.

I watch him leave, hating myself for being such a dick, but he jumped to a conclusion that holds no merit. I’m not starting because of some deal between Coach and my mom.

I should’ve congratulated him for coming out. I should’ve been happy for him, but instead I was angry and frustrated, and the fear of being vulnerable crept back in.

He clearly thought enough about me to tell his parents, and it creates a heady mix of feelings. Happiness, fear, worry, insecurity, and pure bliss.