Page 41 of Seeing Grayscale

The familiar exit on the highway is coming up, and I’m grasping at mental straws in an attempt to eradicate the hostile energy stinking up my car.

Gray challenges my reasonings at every damn turn, always poking the bear I keep locked away. He’s shining a light on things I don’t want to acknowledge because I know I’m weak.Anyone else would’ve given their dad the finger and walked the hell away.

And I did try once.

In college, I almost came out to my parents, sick of hiding it. It was eating mealive.

Until then, I hadn’t heard anything too bad come from my dad’s lips other than a general misunderstanding—ignorance, even. His Christian beliefs didn’t help, nor the All-American attitude, but I figured it was worth a shot. He loved me, which meant he would love this part of me. That was until my cousin Fiona announced her wedding to a woman, and my dadlost his shit.

In the public eye, he’s all for equality, LBGTQ+ rights, etc. But behind closed doors, he’s actively making moves to turn our blue state red. And once he becomes senator, those odds of doing it go up. Significantly up.

Every horrible slur, every declaration of wishing hellfire and damnation, and the way my cousin wascutout of our lives proved to me that I could never confess.

I’d never be able to take off the mask.

I like having that independence from my dad. I do.

Sure, I’m not a pilot, but I get to deal with planes to some extent. The money I make is safely tucked away in an account he can never touch, and if I wanted to, I could give it all away and live just like Gray does. Not that I want that life; I’m too used to conveniences. But sometimes, I dream of a day when I can be everything I told myself I couldn’t and live authentically as the man beside me does.

Which is why I start speaking.

“Brent isn’t one of many. I need to make that very clear. Yes, he’s a secret, but one that we’ve both agreed to. I didn’t lord my power over him—nothing like that.”

Gray’s eyes are on the highway sign, thumb in between his teeth.

“I do what I have to because I’m a coward. I’ve known that since I was fourteen. It’s easier to placate than it is to piss everyone off. And now, I’m so deep into my lies that I can’t ever face them. So, no, I don’t abandon anyone. I don’t purposefully make someone feel special and then leave. That’s not what I do, Gray.”

He’s pretending my words don’t affect him, but I can see they do. His shoulders draw up a little higher, and his breathing is uneven.

“You asked me before why you. The easiest answer is that when I saw you, I saw myself.”

This time, he faces me. I glance at him quickly before changing lanes to exit the highway. “How? We are nothing alike.”

“That might be true, but it was symbolic, at least, to me. You were all alone, cold, dirty, and weighed down by life. That’s what I feel every day, no matter how many people are around me or how clean, warm, and happy I appear.” I laugh at my admittance, feeling like the most pathetic asshole on planet earth. “Honestly? I’m fucking miserable, Gray. And I admire your strength to keep going even though you feel the same.”

Biting the corner of his lip and considering my response, Gray's eyes bounce from my face to my arm. He gently touches my shoulder when I hit the bottom of the offramp, stopping at a red light. “Don’t be miserable. You’re too young to be miserable.” And the most genuine smile crosses his face, spearing me right through the heart.

TWENTY

TWO WEEKS LATER...

Atthisrate,I’mlikely to end up in jail again.

The thing is, I just don’t have a fucking option.

What else was I supposed to do after leaving Hunter’s car with a duffle bag full of crap, a new phone, and hobbling around with aleg brace? The targets were taped to every inch of me along with a neon sign pointing at my head saying:mug me.

I did what I had to.

Harry, the not-so-friendly cashier at the 2nd Street gas station, gave me the boot after two nights. Whenever his shift rolled around, I would dread it, hoping like hell the fucker didn’t take his smoke break by the dumpster. After threatening to call the cops, I hightailed it out of there, and that’s how I ended up begging One Tooth Ray to let me push some product.

One of his regular customers happens to be Tammy down at The Pines, so we worked out an arrangement. I get to crash at her place two nights a week when I bring her a new supply of pot.

That first night she tried to hook me up with one of her regulars, and I’m proud to say that I didnotlose my shit. I kept my thinly veiled panic at bay, declining as nicely as possible.

Tammy says I have ‘fuck me lips,’ whatever that means.

My new arrangements aren’t perfect by any means. Most nights, I’m freezing my balls off and sweating through the pain in my healing leg because I’ve resorted to selling the pills so I can eat.

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