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- BLAKE ABEL FOSTER -
Ben and I continue playing Call of Duty on my Xbox One as I hear the garage door open for the second time this evening. My stomach clenches and I feel like I’m going to throw up. This time, I know it’s my Dad. And I know, later tonight, after Ben leaves, my Dad will go ballistic when I come out to him and my mother.
My hands begin trembling on the Xbox controller. Before I know it, my entire body is trembling. My right knee knocks into Ben’s numerous times before he realizes it and diverts his attention from the gun-to-gun combat on the television to the fear on my face. My jaw, following suit with the rest of my body, begins trembling. I sniff rather loudly, staring at the television screen. I place my controller on the floor in front of my crossed legs.
“Blake…” Ben asks, putting his controller down.
I don’t look at him, I can’t look at him. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together right now. But, the fear of what’s going to happen tonight is overwhelming me. I know if I look at Ben’s face, I’m going to lose it. God, is this all moving too fast? Is my relationship with Ben moving at an unrealistic pace? Is it possible to legitimately fall in love with someone this fast? Or am I just so desperate for human contact after Gavin, that the first guy I find I immediately cling to like a life raft?
“Blake, look at me, baby…” he says, placing a hand on my trembling knee. His touch calms me, all be it only a little bit.
Is this love? Or is he just my life raft? Am I just clinging on to him to keep my head above water? There’s only one way to tell.
“Blake,” he demands, raising his voice.
I snap out of it and look at him. The worry on his face, worry out of love, is enough for me to know - this is all real. I love this boy. Why the hell else would I feel the need to come out to my parents now, instead of later in life, if I didn’t truly love Ben? I feel a tear streak down my right cheek.
“Blake, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” he says, getting to his knees and taking my hands in his.
I look down at my hands in his as he squeezes them. I continue looking at them and see one of his hands leave mine as I look at the floor next to us. I feel a finger under my chin that brings my eyes back to him.
“Blake, talk to me. What’s going on?”
He rubs the tip of my chin once between his thumb and index finger before my vocal chords finally decide to do what they were made to do.
“I’m, uh…” I pause to sniff. “I’m going to uh… come out to my parents tonight… after you leave. I’m going to tell them,” I say.
A loving smile spreads across his face. He stays quiet for a moment and I notice his eyes glisten as they begin to water.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love you anymore…” he says, his thumb swiping back and forth across my hand that he still has a hold on.
“What do you mean,” I ask, sniffing.
“Well,” he says, the loving smile still plastered across his face. “Yesterday, when we got back from the mall, I knew.”
“You knew what,” I ask.
“I knew I was completely and utterly in love with you,” he says.
The water building in his eyes tumbles over his eyelashes and a tear falls from both eyes simultaneously.
“So,” he continues, “that night, at dinner, I came out to my parents.”
I immediately hate myself. How could I let my fear and panic make me question my feelings for Ben - even if it was just for a few seconds? I begin crying even harder now. Ben releases my hands and gets up. I feel him sit down behind me, scooting forward until I feel his chest at my back and see each leg spread out on either side of me. I feel his arms slide underneath my own, his hands clasping around my stomach. He puts his head on my shoulder and nuzzles into the side of my head and sways us side to side.
“I love you, Blake. You can do this,” he whispers into my ear.
He kisses the side of my head and lets me cry as he continues swaying our bodies side to side.
Grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes and creamed corn are on the menu for tonight as Ben and I sit down at the table with my parents.
My dad is sitting next to my mother, still in his police uniform, although the button-up shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a plain Hanes or Fruit of the Loom t-shirt underneath. He is currently texting on his cell phone, probably to his partner, Mike. Like I said, he’s one of those cops that can’t drop the job when he steps foot in the house. He’s a cop first, a husband second and father third. My mother clears her throat and speaks up, trying to grab my father’s attention as she walks over with two glasses of iced tea.
“Hank, we have a guest this evening. Put that phone away, honey.”
She places one glass in front of Ben and the other in front of me. My father locks his phone and sets it down on the dinner table as he looks up at Ben.
“Hi. Hank Foster…” he says, extending his hand across the dinner table towards Ben.
Ben reaches over and shakes his hand. “Ben Smith. Nice to meet you, Mr. Foster. Thanks for allowing me to eat dinner with you guys.”
I hear none of it, it‘s all just background noise. I push around the mashed potatoes on my plate, the thought of coming out to my parents still grating on my nerves. Scenes of my father standing up and grabbing me by the throat play through my mind. Followed by scenes of him grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, walking me to the door and tossing me into the street is the second scenario. My heart is racing, my stomach is churning. Before I know it, my vocal chords begin to vibrate without my permission.
“Mom… Dad…” I say in a solemn tone.
I see Ben out of the corner of my eye. He takes a deep breath and I feel his foot nudge mine under the table.
“What is it, honey,” my mother asks, happily chomping on her food.
I return Ben’s sentiment and also take a deep breath. However, mine is shaky and full of emotion. I sniff loudly. Ben stands up.
“I better go,” he says, starting to scoot his chair under the table as my mother looks up at him.
I reach for him, grabbing his hand. “No…” I say, my eyes pleading with him to stay. I need him to stay. Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll have the guts to do it. He’s my strength, my rock. And I need him, now more than ever. He sees it in my eyes and sits back down at the table.
My mother continues looking at Ben, who is now staring down at his dinner plate, seeming as if he’s too ashamed to make eye contact with anybody else - like he’s in trouble. Like he’s going to be the one who’s going to have to deal with my parents. He feels the weight of the situation and knows exactly what I’m going through. My mother’s gaze changes from Ben to me. I’m still looking at Ben. She sees it in my eyes. As I look at her, I can tell she’s already put two and two together.
My father, completely oblivious and not really caring, picks up his phone again and taps away on the touch screen. I begin breathing heavily, trying to keep the tears at bay. My left foot begins bobbing my leg up and down with reckless abandon - banging into the bottom of the table a few times, bringing my dad’s attention from the phone.
“Blake, stop hitting the table…” he says, barely looking up from his phone.
“Hank…” my mother says, reaching for my father’s hand.
He looks at her as she bobs her head towards me. I exhale loudly through my mouth and look up at the ceiling - not wanting to meet my father’s gaze. My breathing rate increases and so does my heart rate. I didn’t realize until he squeezes my hand, but Ben has been holding onto my hand, under the table ever since he sat down.
“Blake, what’s going on,” he asks, actually sounding concerned. I still can’t meet his gaze.
“Mom… D-D-Dad…” I stutter.
“Blake,” my mother says with a curt tone to get my attention. My eyes lock onto her’s. “Just say it, honey.”
I see a look of understanding, caring and knowing in her eyes. She helps me through it, by letting me say it to her, instead of having to look at my father. She’s made it feel like her and I are the only two people in the room, even though I still feel Ben.
I sniff, letting a tear fall down my cheek.
Oh, God… here it comes.
“I’m gay.”
- BENJAMIN JAXON SMITH -
The air changes in the room as soon as Blake utters those two words. The same two words I uttered to my own parents just last night.
“I’m gay.”
Blake finally breathes a short sigh of relief, but is still tense. I can tell he’s tense by how hard he’s squeezing my hand. I sigh, quietly under my breath and squeeze Blake’s hand. He realizes what he’s going and eases up on his grip.
The entire table is silent, minus Blake’s loud breathing. Kelly looks at her son, tears filling her eyes. But, a smile spreads across her face. And it’s not a smile of pity, the smile is all genuine.
“Oh, Blake, honey…” she says, still smiling. She begins to stand up from her chair when, suddenly, Hank bangs his fist on the table, startling everybody at the table, myself included.
“Great. That’s just fucking great,” he says, his voice getting louder. “And I suppose Ben, here, is the cause for all of this?” He looks at me. "Did you put him up to this? Did you turn our son gay? You goddamn, faggot. I could tell you were a queer the moment I laid eyes on you."
I open my mouth, trying to speak up for myself; but, the words are trapped in my throat.
"Hank," Kelly says in a loud, angry tone.
And that’s when it happens. Before I can react, Blake brings our hands up from underneath and rests them both on the table. His thumb brushing back and forth across my thumb. I look at our hands, as does Hank and Kelly. Then, I look at Blake who is staring intently at his father.
Kelly looks at our hands then looks at both of us, still smiling. Hank scoffs, facing Kelly.
“You know he caught this from your side of the family. Your brother, the faggot. Aren't no queers in my family.”
Blake caught this? It’s not a disease, asshole.
Kelly looks at Hank with a look of disbelief. Blake is staring down at his lap, his thumb has stopped brushing my thumb.
“You…” Hank says, turning his back attention to me. “You get the hell out of my house and stay the fuck away from Blake. This is your fault.”
I start to stand up, but Blake’s grip tightens on my hand and he pulls me back down into the chair.
“No. Ben’s not going anywhere,” Blake says.
“Excuse me,” Hank demands, his eyes going wide, eyebrows turning down in a serious manner.
“This isn’t Ben’s fault. And it’s not Mom’s or Uncle Jeremy’s fault, either. I was born this way, Dad.” Blake looks at me then looks back at his father. “I love Ben.”
“I didn't hear that. Tell me you didn’t just say that…” Hank replies, pointing at Blake.
“Hank…” Kelly says.
“Stay out of this, damn it,” Hank retorts.
“You calm the hell down right now, Hank,” she demands.
“You know what’ll help calm me down,” he asks, standing up. "Getting this queer out of my goddamn house!"
He walks around the table and grabs me up by the shirt collar and starts escorting me to the door way too roughly, stretching the neckline of my shirt as he does. I hear both Blake and Kelly’s chair legs s on the hardwood floor as they get up from their chairs. Blake quickly approaches just as Hank opens the front door. He grabs Hank’s arm shouting, “Let him go, you asshole!”
I hear a smack followed by a thud as something heavy hits the floor. I turn around on Hank’s grasp and see Blake on the floor, holding his face.
“You son of a bitch,” Kelly yells, quickly approaching Blake.
I go to break free of Hank’s grip, to go to Blake. That’s when the officer in him sees me resisting and takes me down to the ground.
“Ugh,” I grunt as I hit the hardwood floor. Hank has my hands behind my back, so I slam chest and face first into the hardwood floor, knocking the wind out of me.
“Hank,” Kelly exclaims.
She finally steps in and jerks Hank off of me. Blake is on his hands and knees and crawls over to me, as Kelly pushes Hank in the chest.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind,” she yells at him. “Blake is your son!”
Blake runs his hand through my hair, checking on me. I crane my neck to look at him. His lip is busted and ing and his eyes are moist. I reach up and grab his hand as I try to regain my breath. Blake looks up at his father with hate in his eyes.
“No… no he’s not,” Hank says quietly, shaking his head and backing away from the scene he just caused.
He turns around and grabs his car keys off the kitchen countertop and exits the house into the garage, slamming the door in the process. We hear the garage door raise and his vehicle start up and back out of the garage.
We all breathe a sigh of relief when we realize he’s gone.
- BLAKE ABEL FOSTER -
“Ben…” I say, helping him to his feet.
“Oh, Ben, honey…” my mother says, helping me get Ben up. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Mrs. Fo-…” he coughs. “Er… Kelly.”
Through a pained face, she smiles at him then turns around and heads to kitchen to busy herself, clearly ashamed at what just happened. I’ll be sure to talk to her in a bit. Ben rubs the side of his face and finally, his eyes meet mine.
“Blake, you’re ing…” he says, bringing his hand to the side of my face.
I tongue the inside of my lip, tasting that metallic taste of . I feel the moistness as he wipes the from my chin, disposing of it on his own shorts.
“Ben, I’m so sorry. I should have just let you leave the first time you got up. But, I needed you…” I trail off.
“That’s why I stayed, baby,” he says, holding my hand and rubbing my arm with his free hand.
“Still, I can’t help but feel horrible. My Dad just attacked you. That’s just so… wrong… It’s just…”
“Stop it. You hear me? I’m not as fragile as you think I am, cutie,” he says, smiling at me.
I spot Mom in the kitchen, crying over the sink. I can’t help but feel responsible for those tears. How can the day start off great, turn fantastic with Ben in my bedroom, and end with such pain, guilt and remorse?
“It’s all my fault. If I would have just kept my mouth shut, stayed closeted…” I say.
Ben follows my gaze, seeing my mother in the kitchen having her moment.
“It’s not your fault for being gay, Blake. You can’t help who you are,” Ben says, returning his eyes to mine.
“But, if I just…” I say, before Ben cuts me off.
“No! You stop it,” he says, positioning himself, moving closer to me and taking my face in both of his hands. “None of this is your fault. This is all on your Dad and his homophobia. Quit blaming yourself. Right now. I want you to say it - ‘It’s not my fault.’”
My eyes leave his gaze and return to my mother in the kitchen. I hope I haven’t disappointed her. I hope she still loves me. This is all…
“Say it,” Ben says, applying more pressure to my face with his hands.
“It’s not my fault,” I say.
He smiles and kisses me. And, just like that, I somewhat believe in my own words.
It’s not my fault.
“I better get out of here and let you talk to your Mom,” he says, the thumb on his right hand brushing my cheek.
My eyes return to him. I don’t want him to leave, I still need him. He really is my life raft. I love him so much, it hurts - hurts worse than my busted lip. I just still hope he loves me after what my father did.
“You still love me, don’t you,” I say, my eyes already welling up.
A look of shock and confusion spreads across his face, and as quickly as it appeared on his face, it disappears and he pulls me into his body, hugging me. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him entirely too tight. I can’t help it, I break down, releasing all of my pain and fear onto his shoulder.
“Of course I do, Blake Abel. Nothing can ever change that, you hear me? You’re my life now. My life… my world… it begins and ends with you,” he says.
“Please don’t…” I say in between crying breaths, “…please don’t let me go.”
He pulls away from me and grabs my face again, looking intently into both of my eyes.
“Never. That’ll never happen, okay,” he says, kissing my forehead and bringing me back into his loving embrace.
“Ben…” it’s my mother’s voice.
We pull apart from each other, somewhat reluctantly, and turn around to look at her.
“Honey, again, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened.”
“Really, Kelly, I’m fine. I just wanted to stay for Blake. You know, to make sure he would be okay after telling you guys,” Ben says.
“I understand. I hate to even ask this, Ben; but, I need to talk to my son, would you mi-…”
“I was just telling Blake that I better get out of here so you two can talk,” Ben says, cutting her off.
“Thank you,” she says. “I’ll give you guys a minute.”
She backs away, and returns to the kitchen. I look back at Ben, his eyes returning to mine at the same time.
“Think I could see a smile from that cute face before I go,” he asks.
I can’t help it. Even though I’m not in a smiley, happy mood, I couldn’t ever tell him no or deny his request. Plus, the request in and of itself was cute as hell. I gush and give him the smile he requested.
“Oh, two for one,” he says, returning the smile.
“What,” I ask, still smiling.
“I got you to blush,” he says with a dreamy smile that melts my heart.
I quickly pull him to me and hug him.
“I’m scared, Ben,” I admit to him.
“The hard part’s over, Blake. Will it be a little different or awkward for a bit? Well, sure… that’s a given. But, before you know it, everything will be back to normal. I promise. And until then, I’m only a phone call, text or a few hundred feet away from you,” he says.
I feel at ease in his arms. I feel like I can breathe easy and not have a care in the world. He’s everything that I’m not - he completes me.
“I love you, Ben.”
He pulls away from me a bit, and kisses me. His lips leave mine and he brings his forehead to mine.
“I love you, too, Blake,” he says, as I close my eyes.
We stay just like that for a while until he pulls away. I open my eyes and look at him wondering why, out of all the boys in the world, he chose me.
I truly do not feel worthy of such love. It’s all I’ve ever wanted - someone to love me. I thought I had that with Gavin. He never told me he loved me, but his little actions and daily text messages and calls lead me to believe he loved me. So, when he dumped me, I hit rock bottom - hard. I didn’t know how to cope with the loss. He was my first boyfriend, my first relationship, my first kiss with another boy since I truly accepted the fact I am gay. Chris was there for me, after I came out to him. He got me through a lot of the bad stuff, got me back to being Blake. He helped mend my broken heart, just by being a good friend.
And, now, with Ben, it feels as if that crack in my heart is now non-existent. My heart is full and beating again. Each beat for him - Ben, Smith, Ben, Smith. Tonight, my coming out, it wasn’t just for me, it was for him as well. I don’t want to hide my love for him. I want to be able to shout it from the rooftops. That’s why I chose to make that bold declaration when I brought our hands up from under the table. I wanted Mom and Dad, mostly Dad, to see. Wanted them to see that my heart belongs to another person. And, no, that person isn’t a girl. Not some cheerleader who cheers me on during Friday night football games. Not some ditzy blonde with tight jeans and her cleavage hanging out. My heart belongs to a boy. A boy who has showed me more love, in the few days that I’ve known him, than anybody else ever has.
“I’m gonna’ get out of here so you can talk to your mom, okay?”
“Okay…” I say, reluctantly. “I don’t want you to go, though,” I say, returning his patented quivering bottom lip.
He smiles. “Okay, I see now why you say that is not fair,” he says, tucking my lip back in.
I stick it back out again.
“If you don’t stop being so damn cute, I’ll never get out of here,” he says, smiling enthusiastically.
“That’s my plan,” I say smiling.
“You’ll be fine, baby. If I truly thought you needed me right now, I’d stay. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But, right now, your mom needs you,” he says, nodding in her direction.
I look back at her. He’s right. Not only did her son just come out of the proverbial closet; but, she just watched her husband of 19 years hit their son and attack their son’s significant other. She’s still at the sink, hugging herself and staring out the window into the backyard. He’s right.
Ben pulls me into his embrace once more, and squeezes me tight. I return the squeeze and kiss his lips as I pull away. I walk him to the door and open it for him.
“Call or text me when you can,” he says.
“I will,” I say, smiling, half-heartedly.
“I’m proud of you,” he says. “Now, go talk to your Mom. She’s a good lady - I like her already. I just hope she doesn‘t resent me.”
“She doesn’t. I promise. I love you, Ben.”
“Love you, too, babe. I’ll miss you,” he says.
“God… not as much as I miss you already,” I say, looking down at the hardwood floor.
He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, bringing the warmness to my cheeks again.
“Ha! Got you to blush, again. Two-fer for the road,” he says, smiling.
He spins around and walks through the threshold. I stand at the open doorway and watch him as he walks down the sidewalk and out into the street. About twenty paces into his walk, he spins around and looks back at me. He motions for me to shut the door and to go talk to my mother. I can't help it, I just want to watch him until I can't see him anymore. But, I do as instructed, I close the door and turn around to face my mother.
She's still in the kitchen, standing by the sink. She hears me approach and turns around, tears streaming down her cheeks. One of the hardest things for a son to see is their mother cry. Even though it has been pretty emotional the past few minutes, that's not why I start crying.
I start crying because I'm afraid. Not just of my father, but my mother as well. It's one thing to have one parent say, "He's not my son." But, to have the other one remain silent, not saying anything to you? I can't take it. I want Ben back here. I need someone to hold me right now because I feel like I'm slipping away.
My mother eyes my busted lip and must sense my vulnerability, because she takes three big strides and grabs ahold of me, pulling me into her motherly embrace.
Well, if this isn't some kind of scene from an ABC Family sitcom, I don't know what is. Still, I can't help it, I lose it and pour my sadness, my rage and my fear onto her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry. Just, please, tell me I'm still your son," I plead with her.
She pulls away, grabbing me by the face.
"Of course you are, Blake Abel. How could you say something like that? You'll always be my baby boy, no matter what. I don't care if you're gay. Besides, Ben seems like a very nice boy," she says.
"Dad didn't seem to think so," I say, calming down a little bit.
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry your dad reacted that way. I think... I think this is it. I told him if he ever laid a hand on you again, we were through. He's not going to lay hands on you ever again, not if I have anything to do about it."
Truth was, I could care less about him laying hands on me. Tonight wasn't the first time he's laid hands on me since breaking my arm twelve years ago. He's slapped me upside the head numerous times and berated me after football games.
"You didn't take the open lane your offensive line made for you," he'd say.
"I can't believe you let that linebacker strip the ball from you like that. How many times have I told you, ball security is your number one priority!"
Around midnight that night, I decide to go for a walk. The house is dark and quiet. Dad never came back home. As glad as I am about that, I still blame myself. By the way my mother talked earlier tonight, she's going to meet with a lawyer later this week to file for divorce. No matter how much I apologized and asked her to reconsider, she assured me it wasn't my fault. She said their relationship has been on slippery slope for the past few years, but tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want to believe her, but I still feel like it's all my fault.
I step outside the front door and start walking. Where I'm going, I don't know. Ben had texted and called a few times earlier that night, but I couldn't answer. I wanted to - nothing would make me happier than to talk to him, but I just couldn't. My mind was, and still is, blanketed by a strange fog.
I feel a short vibrating pulse in my pocket - my phone letting me know I've received a text message. I retrieve it from my pocket and see that it's a text message from Ben.
Blake, you're scaring me. Plz answer me. R u okay?
Again, I ignore it. I love Ben. I really do. But, I just can't right now.
God, plz don't think I'm crazy or anything, but my phone shows me ur reading these. Just plz tell me ur ok so I can rest easy. I love u.
I sniff and continue walking down the middle of my street, aimlessly. Before I know it, I'm standing on the outskirts of the Cardinal Hill Golf Course, which is a little over a mile from my house. I look back and forth at my surroundings, confused.
How the hell did I get here?
I see a bench just a few yards ahead of me, near Hole 17, a lamp right above it shining it's light down on the bench below. I walk towards it, feeling my phone vibrate again. It's a longer vibration this time - a phone call. I pull it out and see Chris' name on the screen. Why I choose to answer his call, and not the calls and texts from my own loving, and extremely worried boyfriend, I couldn't tell you.
I hit the answer button, bringing the phone to my ear. "Hello," my voice says, sounding broken and ragged.
"Blake, what the hell is going on, man? Ben just called me, freaking out. He's really worried about you," Chris tells me.
"I don't know, Chris. I don't know what's going on. Why did I have to tell them? It's all my fucking fau-..." I say, my voice breaking completely this time.
I lose control of my entire body. I make it to the bench just in time as my knees buckle. I land on it hard, my butt making an audible thump as I collapse on to it.
"Okay, man, now you're scaring me. Where are you," Chris asks.
"Cardin-..." I stop to sniff. "Cardinal Hill Golf Course, Hole Sev-seventeen."
"Stay right there, I'm coming to get you," he says, hanging up before I can say another word.
I see Chris' car pull up out on the street. He spots me on the bench, thanks to the lamp - my beacon calling out for help. He quickly approaches and sits down next to me. I'm sitting on the bench, hunched over, elbows resting on my knees, staring down at the ground.
"What are doing out here, man," he asks.
I shrug a response. He stays quiet for a moment, scanning the area.
"What were you talking about on the phone? You said something about 'telling them.' What did you tell someone?"
I sniff loudly. "I came out to my parents tonight," I say, keeping it short, still looking at the ground.
"Really," he says, his voice sounding chipper. "That's great, man!"
"No, it's not great, man," I say, snapping back at him. "They're getting a divorce because of me."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. What are you talking about," he asks.
"I came out to them at the dinner table, my dad was furious. He went ballistic, blaming Ben. Then, he grabbed Ben by the shirt collar and tried to kick him out of the house," I say, my response getting quicker. I know it's only a matter of time before my voice cracks and I lose it, again. "I went to stop him. He turned around and backhanded me in the face. I fell to the floor. Ben tried to shrug my Dad off to come help me." Chris puts his hand on my back, giving me strength to keep going. "My Dad took Ben to the ground and dug his elbow into Ben's neck, the same way he'd take down a criminal or something. My Mom finally pulled him off of Ben, and then my Dad left. He still hasn't come back home."
I already feel the tears spill over my eyelashes as they run down my cheeks. I sniff again.
"After Ben left, my Mom told me she's meeting with a lawyer later on this week. She's filing for divorce, man," I finally look at Chris. "And it's my goddamn fault! All my fault!"
I look away from him again, bringing my hands to my face, emptying the salty liquid into my palms. Chris pulls me at an awkward angle and hugs me.
"It is not your fault, man. It's your dad's fault. Stop blaming yourself, Blake. You can't help who you are. If your dad can't accept it, you're better off without him, bro. Now, come on, let's get you where you need to be," he says helping me up.
We walk to his car, his arm dd over my shoulders. When we reach the passenger side door, he opens it for me. I slide into the car and sit in the seat. He closes the door and I rest my head against the glass. He climbs in and starts the car. We take off, the music in the car at a low level. So, low in fact I can't even tell what's playing.
We're only driving for what feels like minutes when I feel the car slow down. I feel the bumps as the tires climb the curb of a driveway. I look up and see that we are in front of Ben's house. Chris is punching something into his phone for a second, then locks it, resting it in his lap.
"What are we doing here," I ask.
"I told you..." He begins. "I'm taking you where you need to be. That place is here."
Just then, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Ben is walking out his front door. I look back over at Chris. He must have text Ben, telling him we were here.
"Go talk to him, Blake. He needs you just as much as you need him. It was obvious when he called me. I don't believe in that 'love at first sight' bullshit. But, looking at you two, you guys are making me a believer," Chris says.
"Yeah, but," I start to say, but Chris interrupts me.
"But, nothing, man. Ben loves you. He loves you for who you are. He's not Gavin. And you're not the same Blake you were a year ago. I can't believe I'm going to say something as gay as this, but... go get your man."
Chris' seriousness finally leaves his face as he gives me a reassuring smile.
Whatever happens in life, no matter how many people walk out on me, I know Chris will always be there. God gave me an incredible friend in Chris, and for that, I will always be thankful.
I smile and nod a thank you to him. I open the passenger side door and step out, closing the door as Chris puts the car in reverse and backs out of the driveway.
I don't move from that spot, I can't. My hands are anchored in my pockets as I stare at the concrete in front of me, willing my feet to move. I look up at Ben standing on the porch. He finally barrels down the stairs and slams into my body, hugging me.
I hear him sniff as he squeezes me tight. I'm such a terrible person. First, I come out to my parents, causing a fight and the destruction of their years of marriage. And now? Now, I've made the one person in my life, who I truly love, cry. Cry because of my actions.
I didn't think I had anymore tears left to cry. Boy, was I mistaken.
"I'm sorry, Ben," I cry, grabbing hold of him even tighter. I want to say more, but getting that out was hard enough.
"What were you trying to prove, going quiet on me like that? Why would you scare me like that," he asks in a hurt, accusing tone.
"I didn't want to..." I sniff, stopping to catch my breath. "I didn't want to screw up our relationship like I did my Mom and Dad's."
Ben pulls away from me, taking my face in his hands.
"What on earth are you talking about," he asks.
I can't meet his eyes. If I look at them, and they're all moist and puffy, I'm going to lose it all over again. So, I avoid them, looking down at the cement.
"My mom is going to divorce my dad, because of what happened tonight. Not just because of what happened tonight. But, tonight was the last straw and it's all my fault."
"It is not your fault, bab-..."
"Yes, it is, Ben! I'm a screw up. Like Gavin said in the mall the other day, I'm a mess. First, I screw up the relationship between me and Gavin. Then I wreck my parents marriage by coming out. And I don't want to screw this up, Ben. I don't want to do or say something to ruin what you and I have. You're all I have! So, I thought being quiet was the best way and I..."
That's when I make the mistake, I look at his eyes on mine. And just as I feared, they are moist and puffy, a tear streaming down his cheek as I look up.
"And I..." I try to say again through a quivering bottom jaw. "And I... I don't want to lose you, too!"
"Oh, Blake..." he says, pulling me into his body again, lightly swaying me back and forth. "That is not going to happen, baby. You can't lose me, not even if you try. I love you, Blake. Why can't you see that? What do I have to do to prove that to you? How can I make you see that I'm here for the long haul? I'm not going anywhere. I only want to be where you are, Blake Abel. I'm here, knocking on the door. Let me in."
He goes quiet for a minute and I hear nothing but the nighttime insects.
"What can I do to show my love for you, Blake? Do I have to make love to you out here in my driveway?"
Without even realizing it, I begin nodding my head. Ben pulls his head away from me, a smile slowly stretching across his face.
"I didn't mean it, Blake. Not the driveway part, anyway."
I sniff again, and use the side of my hand to rub the moistness away from my eyes.
"What about your bedroom," I ask.
Ben looks back towards his house, then back at me.
"I don't know, Blake. My parents are asleep in there. Plus, I told them about you. Told them you're my... boyfriend. They told m-..."
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, giving him a passionate kiss. All the passion is pouring out of my mouth as my tongue begins dancing with his. I feel incredibly happy that he told his parents about me.
As I pull away, I rest my forehead against his.
"Please, Ben. Make love to me. I need you. All of you."
Ben's breath is heavy and rapid as he replies, "Okay."
He grabs my hand and leads me into his house and into his bedroom. Once in his bedroom, he hoists me up in his arms. I wrap my legs around him, finding his mouth with my own.
He gently lays me down on his bed and continues kissing me, his hand slowly and lovingly exploring every part of my body.
I know what we have is true love. I feel it every time Ben looks at me. I feel it every time he speaks to me. And right now, I feel it in his touch. I didn't think it was possible to love somebody this much.
After Gavin, I thought I was just an unlovable person. I thought nobody could ever love someone like me. But, as Ben gently enters me from behind, he wraps his arms around my chest - feeling the thud from my heart. He nuzzles his head next to mine and whispers into my ear, "I love you, Blake Abel Foster."
I reach back and lay the palm of my hand on the back of his head, sliding into him, allowing his full length to enter me. I crane my neck and tell him I love him, too, before kissing him.
Ben is my life. Each breath I take is for him. Each beat from my heart, those beats belong to him, as well. If I didn't have Ben, there would be no Blake Abel Foster.
Well, there you have it! There's chapter six.
As many of you know, I incorporate a lot of music into my writing. I listen to a lot of it WHILE writing. As a little soundtrack, between you and me, allow me to list a few songs that play during certain scenes of this chapter.
At the beginning of the chapter, when Blake and Ben are in Blake's room...
"Back Down the Black" by Boy & Bear
When Blake gets out of Chris' car in Ben's driveway, up until the end of the chapter...
"Where You Belong" by Kari Kimmel
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