Dear Mr. Brody by A.M. Johnson

Donovan

“Anne… Don’t get too far ahead,” I called out as she disappeared into a large crowd of people. Swearing under my breath, I took off at a jog after her. A glimpse of her dark head of hair had me sucking in a deep breath of relief, but it wasn’t until I heard my brother’s low chuckle that I realized how panicked I’d gotten.

“You’re worse than Mom,” he said, popping a piece of caramel corn into his mouth.

“You’re not funny,” I said as Anne came into full view.

I slowed my pace, relaxing and let her jump onto the bench by one of the river exhibits. Her fingers tapped fast and furious against the glass to get an otter’s attention as it swam by.

“See… look, she’s fine.” Owen’s blasé tone pissed me off. “She’s right there. It’s not like she’s two anymore, Vannie. Anne is capable of walking a few feet ahead of you without coming to any great peril.”

“Don’t call me Vannie.” I ignored his smirk and walked ahead of him, making a beeline for my daughter. “Hey, little monster, what did I say to you about a hundred times already today?” A mom with her two kids smiled at me, a knowing glint in her eyes. I kneeled to Anne’s level. “This place is big, you could get lost, or worse… Just stick close, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Her gray eyes widened as my brother approached. “Can I have some popcorn, Uncle Owen?”

“Sure thing, kid.” He grinned and handed her his half-eaten bag. “I’m stuffed.”

“Thanks!”

She wasted no time shoveling her face with the sticky treat, and as much as I wanted to throttle my brother for being a condescending prick sometimes, his love for my daughter softened my anger.

“Are you going to pay for her cavities to get filled?” I asked, half joking, half serious.

“I can afford it.” Owen’s mop of brown hair fell over his forehead, and he swept it to the side with his fingers. “Why so prickly?”

“I’m not prickly, I’m a parent.” I swatted his hand away as he tried to press his finger into my cheek. “Until you have kids of your own, don’t give me shit.”

“Ouch.” His playful smile fell, and he turned away toward the glass. “Something’s up, you being oversensitive proves my point.”

“Because you know me so well.”

“I do.”

“Says the guy who’s never around.”

Owen’s gaze swung back in my direction, assessing me with his shrewd, all-knowing goddamn eyes. I could say what I wanted about him not being around, and as much as I hated it, he did know me better than most people.

“You know how busy I am,” he said. “I have a lot going on.”

“You and me both,” I muttered, and the weight of his stare became almost unbearable.

Anne jumped down from the bench and crouched lower to the ground. “I think that’s a baby… aww, how cute.”

She glanced over her shoulder, and I gave her a tight smile. “So cute, honey.”

“What do you have going on? Is it Lanie?” he asked in a whisper.

I shook my head, wanting to tell him about my plans for tomorrow, and dreading his judgment at the same time. The group of people surrounding us dispersed, and I exhaled, bracing for the inevitable. I couldn’t not tell him. He’d never let up if I didn’t.

“I’m meeting someone I met on a dating app tomorrow night,” I said and winced when he punched me in the shoulder.

“Yeah?” His smile was infectious. “Look at you, little brother… getting back on the horse. What’s her name?”

“Michael,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the glass in front of us.

Several seconds passed in silence, and the longer it dragged on, the harder it was for me to take a breath. Anne was completely enthralled, unaware of the drama unfolding behind her. After a full minute passed without a word from my big brother, I gave in and looked at him. Unable to read his impassive expression, I spoke first.

“Owen… I—”

“Does Olive know already?”

I scratched the nape of my neck. “She does.”

He took a deep breath, the tension between us as thick as the mid-day humidity.

“Mom and Dad?”

“I haven’t said anything to them yet.”

His gray eyes found mine. “Good… I wouldn’t. It would crush Mom.”

“Jesus, Owen… I didn’t think you’d care so much. Olive said Shane is gay. You’re okay with a gay roommate, but not a gay brother?”

“So, you’re gay, then?” he asked, and by the look on his face you’d think I’d told him I had three months to live.

“Would that be a problem for you?”

Owen ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “No… I guess not.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Van… I… I’m… Shane and—”

“I’m not gay,” I interrupted him, worried he’d say something I couldn’t forgive. Not wanting my private life on display, I kept my voice low as a family of five walked up to the exhibit. “I’m bi…”

He nodded and shoved his hand in the pocket of his shorts.

“You really think it would crush Mom?” I asked and the pain that flashed across my brother’s eyes cut straight into my chest as he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But would you want to risk it? Disappointing her and Dad… it would hurt, Van… if they didn’t support you, it would hurt to know they weren’t the parents you thought they were.”

“Can we see the elephant?” Anne asked. “It’s right over there.”

She pointed toward the back of the zoo, and it pulled my attention away from my brother’s despondent stare.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, desperate for a reprieve from the conversation, and took her hand in mine.

Owen followed us, keeping a few steps behind. His reaction surprised and rattled me. I’d hoped he’d accept it, hoped my mom and dad would too. The confidence Olive had given me paled with every sideways glance my brother gave me throughout the rest of the afternoon. Torn between anger and confusion, I didn’t bring it up again until we were getting ready to leave. With Anne buckled into the back seat of my car, I shut her door.

“Thanks for today,” I said, and Owen gave me a half-hearted smile.

“It was fun… I miss spending time with her.”

He waved at Anne, and she pressed her lips against the window and puffed out her cheeks. Owen laughed, and the sound of it made a home in my chest.

“Are we okay? I can’t change who I am.” My voice broke and he hauled me into a hug.

“Fuck… I’m sorry…” He cleared his throat as he pulled away. “It took me by surprise. You and Lanie… I never thought—”

“It’s new for me, too,” I admitted. “Tomorrow night is a first for me.”

“Michael…”

“That’s his middle name.” I laughed and rubbed my forehead. “Shit, Owen, I don’t even know what the guy looks like. I met him on this app called Pegasus.”

“I’ve heard of it,” he said, his lips twitching up at the corners. “I don’t need to tell you to be careful, right?”

“No, Dad… I think I can handle myself.”

He punched me in the shoulder again, an incredulous smile spreading across his face. “This is… I mean… have you always known… I mean, before Lanie?”

“Yeah… but tomorrow will be the first time I’ve ever done anything about it,” I said, and Anne knocked on the window. I held up my finger and she rolled her eyes. “I better get her some food before she turns into a Gremlin.”

“Forget what I said earlier… about Mom and Dad.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “I think I was shocked… maybe projecting a little.”

“Projecting?”

He waved me off. “Whatever, I was being a dick. Don’t worry about it. Mom and Dad love us…”

“I mean… yeah. I hope so.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They do. They have to, right?”

“We’re good, then?”

“Solid.” He pulled me in for another hug. Squeezing me tighter than before, he clapped me on the back. “Let me know how it goes.”

“You really want to know?” I asked and he laughed.

“My brother is about to embark into the wild world of bachelorhood, of course I want to fucking know… it should be comical, if nothing else.”

“Thanks,” I said, and he chuckled as I climbed into the front seat of my car.

When I pulled away, he waved one last time, and any trepidation I’d had about his acceptance of my sexuality faded with his wide smile. Perhaps I should’ve been anxious about what my parents might think, but it wasn’t enough for me to hide who I was or what I wanted. If I was a disappointment to them strictly based on who I happened to fall in love with or who I was attracted to, then maybe I didn’t need their acceptance anyway.

After I dropped Anne at school the next morning, the rest of the day dragged. I’d spent the majority of my day zoning out at work, mindlessly rereading manuscripts as I thought about everything that might happen tonight. For the most part, I’d been able to harness my nerves, but as I pulled into a parking spot behind the brewery, every apprehensive thought I’d tried to keep at bay came rushing forward. I lowered the stereo as my car came to a stop. My head ached with anxiety and what ifs. I smoothed a hand down my chest as I looked into the rearview mirror. God, what was I doing? I’d tried to talk myself out of showing up tonight about a thousand times. Each excuse I’d come up with more creative than the last. What if I wasn’t what he expected? What if my experience, or lack thereof, turned out to be too much of a burden for him? What if he was a serial killer who collected skin, and was obsessed with lotion and wells? I fell back in my seat and laughed at myself. Swiping my thumb across the screen of my phone, I opened the message he’d sent me earlier. It was a snapshot of him from the neck down. I’d sent him something similar before I left my house. We’d agreed to send the pictures as a way for us to recognize the other by what we’d chosen to wear. He had on a dark blue shirt that hugged his broad chest and biceps, and a pair of worn jeans. I stared down at the gray button down I’d chosen, hoping it wasn’t too much. Part of me wondered if we should have sent pictures of our faces as a last-minute, get-out-of-jail-free card. The other, more insecure side knew, if we had, and he was as good looking as I’d imagined him to be, the likelihood of me chickening out at the last second would have been exponentially higher. I counted backward from fifty before I typed out a quick message.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Just got here.

I cut the engine and got out of the car after a few minutes with no reply. Assuming he was on his way, and not standing me up, I headed inside. The place bustled with laughter and energy as I walked in. I did a quick scan of the room, looking for a guy in a navy-blue t-shirt, and came up empty.

“How many?” the hostess asked as I stepped forward.

“Two, but my… friend isn’t here yet.”

“No problem. You can wait at the bar if you want...” I looked over her shoulder. There were only a few empty seats available, none of which were seated together. “Or I have a booth open.”

“A booth would be great. Thanks.”

She grabbed two menus, and I followed her through the busy restaurant. The atmosphere was warm with brick-covered walls. Light-colored wood trimmed a wide staircase that led to a second floor toward the back of the open room, and with a large, iron chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, the place had an old saloon vibe. We stopped at a booth next to the bar, and I took the seat facing the front door.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and I smiled.

“It’s perfect.”

As she walked back to the front, I looked over the menu she’d left behind. The words swam on the page as I stared at it, too nervous to remember how to read, apparently. I checked my messages again to no avail. He hadn’t replied. After a few minutes, a waiter had stopped by the table, asking if I wanted a drink, and I’d ordered a beer. I figured if Michael never showed up, the alcohol would be a nice bandage for my ego. I picked at the damp, wrinkled label on the bottle, checking the door occasionally, and by occasionally, I meant every five goddamn seconds. My dry mouth found no relief from the cold beverage, and the more I checked the door, the more I started to second-guess everything. I ran my hand through my hair, the questions in my head firing in rapid succession. What if I’d pushed myself into this? What if we should have waited to meet? What if I was being catfished? What if he was scared too? What if he walked in and saw me and walked out before I had a chance to notice?

Fuck.

This was a mistake.

I shouldn’t have come.

“Mr. Brody?”

My head snapped up at the familiar voice, and my heart plummeted into my stomach.  Having a student here was the last thing I needed.

“P-Parker? Hi... H-hello.”

“Hey.” He ran a hand over his short hair, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as his lips parted with a crooked smile.

“Are you here with friends?” I asked, trying to be polite as I looked around him toward the front door.

“Nah…” Without asking, he slid into the seat across from me. “I’m meeting someone.”

“Oh… That’s—”

Right then, a few obvious things clicked into place, and I’d forgotten what I was about to say.

His shirt. His jeans. Those fucking arms.

Parker’s smile widened as my eyes fell to his navy-blue shirt, the fabric stretching across the expansive muscles of his chest and shoulders. Images of his skin assaulted me, every dip and dent of his abs flickered like a perverted slide show. These things I shouldn’t be privy to. Not him. Not Parker. Holy fucking God, I’d sent my student a picture of my dick. Heat crawled up my neck, burning my face as everything hit me at once. I thought about leaving. I should stand up. I should get the hell out of here right now. I thought about walking through the front door and never looking back, but my legs wouldn’t move. All the things we’d shared...

“Breathe,” he said and reached for my hand across the table.

I moved it quickly to my lap and shook my head. Swallowing down all my regret, I attempted to put on a professional front to save us both from this nightmare.

“I had no idea,” I said, finding my voice. “You have to know that?”

He sat back, his crystal blue gaze penetrating right through me. “Neither did I.”

I wanted to believe him. But in some desperate attempt to salvage my pride, I snapped back. “Are you sure about that?”

“How the fuck would I have known it was you?” he asked, his smile long gone.

I scrubbed a palm down my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Accuse me of catfishing a professor?” he asked, and I flinched at the word professor. “I’m just as shocked as you are… trust me.” His smile resurfaced, and I hated myself for noticing the dimple in his left cheek, or how handsome he looked at that very moment. “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Mr.—”

“God. Stop… don’t call me that.”

“What would you prefer I call you, then? James? Donovan…” He smirked and my stomach flipped. “Van?”

My name in his low, gruff whisper sent an electrical pulse down my spine. Every dirty word he’d sent sounded off in my head in that same deep timbre, and Jesus Christ, it turned me on. I gripped the edge of the table. This was wrong on so many levels.

“This can’t happen.”

“It already happened,” he said matter of fact. “Might as well enjoy ourselves.”

He reached for my beer from across the table, and I clenched my jaw, watching in a mix of shock and fascination as he lifted the bottle to his full lips. Lips I’d never get to taste.

“I need to go.”

“No one’s stopping you, Donovan.” He took another long sip of my beer, his smile confident as he called my bluff.

“You don’t get it…”

“Then, explain it to me,” he said and set my empty bottle on the table. “Because I don’t see a problem. We’re attracted to each other. So what?”

“You’re my student,” I hissed as quietly as possible. “You’re twenty-three years old, for Christ’s sake.”

“My age didn’t bother you when you came all over your chest the other night. And I’m twenty-four, remember…”

“Parker,” I warned, my face on fire. “I didn’t know who you were.”

“I’m glad it’s you.” He rolled his bottom lip through his teeth, and I had to forcefully lift my gaze to his eyes. Which, if I were being honest with myself, wasn’t any better. They were too genuine. Too vulnerable. “I think maybe… maybe... I hoped for you all along.”

“Shit.” I exhaled a shaky breath, my chest too tight for how wild my heart needed to beat. “We can’t… I… I have to go.” I slid out of the booth, and Parker didn’t try to stop me, but something in his bottomless blue stare asked me, begged me to stay. I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and set a twenty on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

We watched each other for a few agonizing seconds, everything that could’ve been rained down on me, pinning me to the wood floor. He was this beautiful thing, smart, and everything I’d imagined, everything I could ever want.

“Van, I—”

“Goodbye, Parker.”

Those two words shouldn’t have stung as much they did, but before I could fuck up any more than I already had, I turned and left him behind.