Page 228 of Catch Me
Travis shifted closer and stretched his arm over the back of the couch as he brought the coffee to his lips. My dad’s eyes flashed with what I assumed was anger.
“Let’s talk about this calmly,” Travis suggested. He glanced at me and I nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Obviously, this is the first time we’ve met, and I don’t want to overstep—”
“You’re overstepping by being here. This is between me and my son.”
“And your son iswhyI’m here, Mr. Valdez.”
“It’s not your place to insert yourself—”
“I asked him to be here,” I interrupted. My voice came out stronger than I felt, and it helped me feel a little more confident. When Travis’ arm lowered to drape across my shoulders, I leaned back further and took a drink of my coffee.
“This isn’t you,” Dad said. “Whatever he did to make you think you’re gay”—his nose wrinkled as he said the word—“it isn’t real.”
“He didn’tmakeme think I’m gay, Dad. I am gay.”
“You’re my son. I know who you are. What, you think you just suddenly have feelings for a man when you’re twenty-three?” He scoffed. “You’re confused because of him and whatever message he’s spreading.”
“I’ve been sleeping with men since I was sixteen.”
His eyes were wide as his lips parted. For a second, he just sputtered, then he shook his head. “No, you haven’t. That’s...It’s that Holloway family. They made you think this was okay.”
I breathed a dry laugh. “No, Dad. That’s not—”
“Yes, it is!” he roared, sitting forward.
I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes. Travis stroked the side of my neck, and I tried to use it to ground me, but my emotions were a mess. I wanted to latch onto anger because I knew it would feel good, at least for a minute. It would protect me, just like it had for over a decade.
Opening my eyes, I took a breath. “I’m going to explain and you’re going to listen. Or you can leave, but it’d be nice if we could actually talk, even if you’re still gonna hate me at the end of it.”
With narrowed eyes, he took a long drink. He was tense, but he didn’t get up or say anything, so I decided to go on.
“It didn’t start when I was sixteen or after Mom started dating Ross. You were still married when I started noticing guys in a different way. I used to look at Til in church, but I didn’t know what that meant at the time and I didn’t let myself think about it. You were vocal about how you felt, and I just adopted your views, maybe hoping that they’d burn away what was inside me. My anger became self-hatred, which became hostility because hurting other people made me hurt a little less. I could think they were weak and ignore that it was actually me who was. That’s what my therapist says, at least.”
“You hired someone to encourage this? No wonder you’re confused.”
“Okay,” Travis interrupted, tightening his arm around me. “Can I say something?” I nodded. “I understand that you’ve had certain views for a long time, Mr. Valdez, but we’re talking about an unchangeable part of Roman’s identity, and you can’t debase his feelings. Regardless of what you might believe, you can’t convince someone to be gay, you can’t turn them gay, and most importantly, you can’t change that they’re gay. Accept it or not, this is who Roman is. I’d love to see you guys talk about this, and that might include anger, pain, and all of the things in-between, but I’m not going to stand for you belittling him and making him feel wrong when he’s spent his whole life feeling that way. Your son is happy. Does that mean anything to you?”
My dad got to his feet. “This isn’t right. This...” He swiped a hand down his face and laughed. “It’s one thing after another with you, Roman. If you would’ve listened to me and come to Idaho—”
“I’d probably be dead.”
They both looked at me, one with surprise and the other with immense sadness. I squeezed Travis’ leg and offered him a tight smile.
“I was on antidepressants,” I explained. “And mood stabilizers meant to keep me from falling too far on the days I felt worse. I tried so many of them, and I thought I was just broken. I thought about dying. I wasn’t really suicidal, but I was apathetic. If I crossed the street and got hit by a car or if I didn’t wear my seatbelt and got in a crash, I wouldn’t care. If I went to Idaho and had to be around you all the time, I would’ve stepped into traffic or jumped off of a bridge. I’m starting to think you’d rather I did that than be gay.”
My dad shook his head, but he didn’t say anything. My chest was tight and my head pounded, but I couldn’t stop yet.
“Recently, I got off the meds.” I looked at Travis. “That’s what Sen meant when he told you I’ve been going through something. I’m not cured or anything, and I might need them again in the future, but I wanted to try managing it by going to therapy and being with people who accept me. I wanted to live authentically and discover who I am. It's been really fucking hard, up and down, but there are so many ways I feel better now, even when I’m in a bad place. I’mbetter, Dad, and if that means nothing to you, then you might as well just leave because I can’t afford to have someone like you in my life to drag me back down.”
He was breathing heavily, looking too angry for me to relax. “I want you to come back with me. Being here isn’t good for you.”
That was what made the dam burst. My temper flared, and I jumped to my feet. “Seriously? You’re just going to disregard everything I said.”
“My church can help you. They’ll pray for you.”
“I’m not going to your fucking church. I like Ross and his family. That’s what it means to be a Christian, not whatever hateful bullshit they preach at your church. This is my home, and it’s where my life is. You think my art is such a waste of time and that I’ll never make anything of myself, but you’re wrong.You’re wrong.”
I marched over to the small desk in the corner and grabbed a handful of papers. Tossing them on the floor, I pointed at the various sketches.
