Finding Me Out

Brendon was sitting in the backyard between the deck and the air conditioner, sucking on a Marlboro. His parents were out on their weekly date and his sister was in her room, supposedly doing chemistry homework on the family laptop. He was hiding out, inhaling the smoke and playing worst case scenario over and over in his head. He knew it was only a matter of time.

‘It’ll be okay,’ Ryan said. ‘They love you.’

“I don’t know what to do.” Brendon whispered, not sure if he was talking to God or the grass. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to wish away the events of that afternoon.

Ryan had picked Brendon up like normal. Thursdays were free days. No work, no church, and no practice. They’d gone to the mall, poked around a few stores, gotten ice cream. They’d ended up kissing in a booth in one of the empty corners of the food court. And that’s when Brendon noticed someone was watching. When he pulled away from his boyfriend, he recognized his older brother who stood there for a moment longer before shaking his head and walking away, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

The back door slid open and Brendon immediately put his cigarette out in the Coke can he kept under the deck for such purposes. “Yeah?” he asked, standing up.

“Alan’s on the phone.” Kara said, naming their older brother. The cordless was in her hand.

Brendon shook his head frantically, pleading in his eyes. He couldn’t. It was going to be bad enough explaining it to his parents, being told he could never see his boyfriend again, possibly getting kicked out.

Kara sighed and pressed the phone to her ear. “Sorry. I guess he’s gone . . . Yeah, I’ll have him call you . . . They’re on a date night, Alan . . . Yeah, bye.” She hit the talk button. “You owe me. So what’s up?” Kara crossed her arms, looking not unlike their mother.

“Nothing.” Brendon lied, avoiding his sister’s eyes. “I just don’t want to talk to him.”

“You’re such a bad liar. Anyway, Dad left money for pizza. You want cheese?”

The boy nodded and grudgingly climbed up the stairs to the house. “Are we picking it up? I’ll drive.”

“Ha ha.” Kara deadpanned. “You better get your homework done.”

* * *

Brendon was finishing his last math problem when the phone rang. He checked the caller ID and answered immediately. “Hi.” His voice was desperate. “I don’t know what to do. I’m supposed to call Alan but I don’t know what to say.” He blinked hard, trying to force the tears down.

“I told you it’ll be fine.” Ryan murmured, slightly taken aback. “Your parents probably already know.”

“What?” Brendon thought he heard his heart drop into his stomach. “Why?” His voice was cold.

“Because.” Ryan licked his suddenly dry lips, surprised by his boyfriend’s tone. “They know everything. Like when Kara lost her virginity and your brother proposed to that chick after prom.” Silence. “Look, call Alan. Maybe he won’t tell them.”

Brendon sniffled. “Yeah, okay.”

“Call me after.”

“Mhm.”

* * *

“I didn’t tell Mom and Dad.” Alan repeated. “Chill for a minute, okay?” Alan lived in East Vegas with his wife and a four year old son, who were both in the room when the phone rang and Brendon started begging his brother not to tell their parents. Alan covered the receiver. “It’s Brendon.” he mouthed to his wife, nodding at the porch before disappearing outside.

“But you picked up your phone! You called them!” the young boy shrieked. He wiped at his eyes under his glasses, not even caring that he sounded like a PMSing teenage girl.

“I got a call.” Alan said gently, trying to keep his voice even and not roll his eyes. “I don’t want to narc you out.” He heard his brother sniffle and hiccup, trying to calm his breathing. “I just wanted to talk to you, okay?”

“I’m not sick.” Brendon whispered, suddenly light-headed.

“I don’t want to be gay.”

Ryan frowned. Those weren’t exactly the words he’d been hoping to hear after their first kiss. “Bren—”

“I hate it. I can’t talk to anyone because they all think it’s a disease. Like I can fix it.” His voice cracked and the tears came as he fell into the other boy’s arms.

“There’s nothing to fix.” Ryan whispered soothingly. “You’re not sick.”

“I didn’t say you were!” Alan snapped, impatience getting the better of him. “Can’t you let me talk?”

“Sorry.” Brendon’s voice came out as a squeak.

The older took a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re sick, all right? I don’t . . . I don’t think it’s a sin either.” He took his brother’s silence as a go-ahead. “I just think you should quit sneaking around.”

“You want me to tell them.” It was a statement, not a question, and Brendon felt physically ill as he entertained the thought.

“Yeah.”

“They’ll never let me see him again.” The tears were back, not yet spilling from the mocha eyes. “I can’t.” Brendon’s voice cracked. “I love him.”

“I believe you.” Alan was calm. “Mom and Dad love you, okay? They’re not going to be happy six months from now when they find out you’ve been sneaking around.”

“I need to go.” The teenager hung up without another word and buried his face in his pillow, letting it muffle his sobs.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep because it was 3:47 a.m. the next time he saw the clock. He was under his quilt, shoes off, light out. He instantly heard Alan’s voice—unwanted—in his head. ‘Mom and Dad love you.’

Too much of what his older brother said had made sense. When Kyla had a boyfriend at fifteen—sixteen was the age for dating in the Urie household—their parents had grounded her for a month, plus two months for sneaking around. Brendon always got in more trouble for sneaking out to parties than for going.

It was too much, the uncertainty. Brendon knew it was late, but he got up anyway and crept down the hallway, past the bathroom, pushing open the oak door. “Kara?” he whispered.

“Ungh.” The girl rolled over. “Wha’?”

“Sorry.” Brendon mumbled apologetically.

“What’s wrong?” Kara was half asleep, but she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

Brendon had never thought he would say the words that came out of his mouth. “Will you pray with me?” he whispered. It was the last option. He didn’t know if he still believed or if God would listen, but he was desperate.

Kara instantly seemed to shed all fatigue. “Yeah.” She moved over on her bed so Brendon could sit down. “Do you want me to go first or do you?”

The boy shook his head, not wanting his voice to betray him. He wondered if she would stop listening when she found out. Kara took Brendon’s hands when he sat down and immediately bowed her head, closing her eyes. The boy knew he was supposed to do the same but, instead, he watched her, transfixed. She seemed perfectly at ease with talking to God. Brendon was jealous. He always half expected a voice from Heaven to yell ‘not listening’ when he mumbled a hurried prayer.

“Heavenly Father, this is Kara. I’m here with my brother.” She squeezed his hand. “He needs Your help, God. Please help him to find the words to explain to You what he’s feeling. Please help him to understand that we are all Your children, created in Your image. There is nothing we can do that will make You love us any less.”

Brendon froze. She knew. Kara knew. He couldn’t. Not like this. He tried to pull away, but she held fast. “It’s okay.” she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at her younger brother. “It’s okay. Just tell Him. Tell Him, Brendon.” she pleaded.

The boy shook his head frantically, struggling to pull away and finally breaking down into tears when Kara pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back and rocking him. “No.” he whispered. “I can’t. You already know.”

“You’ll feel better when you say it.” Kara promised. “I told Him last year when I didn’t know what to do about that guy. I just felt better when I told Him.”

“How do you even know He’s real?” Brendon shrieked hysterically. He knew his voice was loud, too loud. That he was going to wake up their parents, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care. He was sobbing, choking on air, light-headed. He hardly heard the footsteps in the hallway.

“Brendon?” It was his mother’s voice, concerned. She knelt in front of her youngest child, pulling one of his hands into hers. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

He looked at her, miserable and shaking, eyes stinging from tears. “I’m sorry.” he croaked. “I’ll go back to bed now.” He moved to stand up, but Kara pushed him back down.

“Brendon.” That was his father’s voice, equally concerned, but slightly stern. Just enough to let his son know that no one was leaving until he spoke up.

“I think I’m delirious.” Brendon lied. “I need to go to the hospital.”

“Stop it.” Kara said, almost annoyed. “Just tell them.” She squeezed her brother’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” Her voice cracked and Brendon turned to look at her, shocked to see tears in her eyes. “I promise.”

He shook his head again. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. No one was supposed to know. Especially not at four in the morning in his sister’s bedroom while he was in his school clothes and everyone else was in pajamas.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get past the three of them. It was all a blur of pushing and pulling and locking his bedroom door. He climbed out the window like he did for parties, grabbed the spare key for the minivan from the garage and took off into the night.

“Help me.” he whispered to the road. “I’m lost.”

* * *

Ryan rolled over and swore when he heard the rapping on the window. “Jesus, Spin.” he grumbled, glancing at his clock before he sat up. It wasn’t Spencer. “Oh God.” He hurriedly reached over to unlock and open the window, lift the screen, and help pull his boyfriend inside. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? How’d you get here?”

Brendon’s voice was so soft that Ryan could hardly hear him. “. . . stole the van.”

“Did they kick you out?” the older boy asked softly.

He shook his head. “I just . . . I left.” His voice was higher pitched than normal. “I couldn’t. They wouldn’t stop.” He put his face in his hands. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“My turn then.” Ryan told him, leaning in and kissing the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Give me the keys.”

Ten minutes later they were in the van driving back. Brendon was silent, but still. He hadn’t fought Ryan when his boyfriend had said he was taking him home, just stared blankly. Overload to shutdown in less than half an hour.

“We’re going to tell them.” Ryan said. “I’ll stay with you, but this is too much. You have to tell them or you’re going to explode.”

“. . . yeah.”

“I love you, Bren.”

The younger boy sniffled. “I love you, too.”

* * *

Boyd was on the phone when the van pulled up. “Grace, he’s back!” he yelled, hanging up the receiver and following his wife and daughter out of the house.

Ryan helped Brendon out of the passenger seat and held his hand as they walked up the sidewalk. He handed Grace the car keys and she gave him a small nod. “Time to talk.” Ryan said quietly in his boyfriend’s ear.

Brendon was beyond the point of caring anymore. “I’m gay.” he mumbled. His legs seemed to give out then and Ryan grabbed him, arms slipping around his chest and shoulders.

Grace was crying. “You’re grounded.” she said shaking. Kara opened her mouth but the woman shushed her. “What kind of parents do you think we are that stealing the car is easier than telling us that?” She went back inside and her husband followed, trying to console her in a quiet voice.

“It would have been easier.” Kara said, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice. She sat down and both boys followed suit, Brendon leaning against Ryan, half conscious from sheer mental exhaustion. “We all knew.”

“I tried to tell him that, too.” the older boy said softly. “But I can’t say much, y’know.” He shrugged. “I won’t tell my dad.”

“Your dad’s really homophobic though.” Kara pointed out.

“And you guys are really religious. He thought he had a disease when he told me.” Ryan stroked his boyfriend’s hand. “He just didn’t know.”

“Mom hates me.” Brendon said suddenly.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Boyd opened the screen door and stuck his head out. “Now come inside. All of you. It’s too late to be driving.”

The three teenagers made their way inside, Brendon still leaning on his boyfriend. The kitchen smelled delicious. Grace had thrown a pie into the oven to warm and made hot chocolate. “Family meeting.” she stated simply, pointing a finger at Ryan. “You, too.”

Nobody even thought to argue. They all sat while Grace placed mugs of cocoa and slices of pie in front of everyone with forks. Nobody spoke until the adults had both sat. They were on one side of the table with the teenagers on the other, Kara and Ryan flanking Brendon.

“I’m sorry.” Brendon said suddenly. He was speaking directly to his mother. “I just . . . I don’t want to tell you like that.” He stared at his hot chocolate and dipped his finger in the whipped cream, licking it off.

“I think everything got out of hand.” Boyd said evenly.

Brendon nodded, reaching under the table and squeezing Ryan’s knee. “I don’t want anyone to think there’s something wrong with me.” he whispered.

“Nobody thinks that.” his mother said. “Nobody.”

“I didn’t know.” the boy squeaked.

“You didn’t bother to find out!”

“Enough.” Brendon’s father said. “It’s five in the morning. Kids, go to bed. Ryan, do you need to go home?”

The boy shook his head.

“Go sleep like your normally do. It’s too late for new rules. Good night.”

Brendon’s door had been pried open, so it didn’t close properly. But there was nothing to hide. Both boys were asleep within fifteen minutes. Ryan didn’t have class the next morning and Grace called both her children in absent, so no one got up until after one.

* * *

“Mom?” Brendon woke up before Ryan and snuck downstairs. Grace was unloading the dishwasher. “Do you want help?”

“All right.”

Brendon gave a weak smile and stacked plates in the cupboard as they were handed to him. “I wanted to tell you.” he said as he closed it. “I did, Mom.”

Grace nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I just didn’t know how.” He was uncomfortable feeling his mother’s eyes on him, so he started toward the refrigerator to get something to eat, but she intercepted and pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re my baby.” she whispered. “There is nothing you could do to make me stop loving you. But you have to trust me.”

Brendon clung to her. “I’m sorry. I was scared.”

“I know. Now finish the dishwasher. You’re going to have a lot of chores to do this weekend while you’re grounded.” She gave him a little smile and walked out of the room.