Page 75 of Courageous Hearts

I straighten my shoulders as Diesel takes a step closer, confusion and something close to revulsion on his face.

“Diesel,” I say.

He blinks at me a couple times. “I didn’t know you were comin’ back.”

“I didn’t tell you.” Hurt flashes over his features for a moment before I add, “But I was gonna call.”

He scrubs his hand over the back of his head before glancing at the box of spaghetti in my hand. “You needa be somewhere?”

“Let me stick this in my car, and then we can talk.”

Diesel nods, and I skirt around the buildings on Main Street, heading to my rental and stashing the pasta inside. When I turn around, Diesel is waiting nearby.

I look for a good place to do this, and spotting a picnic table not far off, I point that way. “Wanna sit?”

Without a word, he heads in that direction, and I join him on the little slice of green space where the picnic table resides. A globed streetlight stands nearby, off during the midday hours, and wind whistles past my ears as we take a seat across from one another on the slightly worn wood of the picnic bench.

I’m trying to decide what to start off with when Diesel says, “You look different.”

I nod, swiping my hair out of my face. I can only imagine what he’s thinking. How his baby brother looks like a girl, with the makeup and the loose shirt I picked out today. It’s a light olive green, billowing in the sleeves but with brass buttons along the structured shoulders, giving it a sort of mixed feminine and utilitarian feel. It’s exactly the sort of thing I love to wear, but it’s not even close to what he’s used to seeing me in. And I needed him to witness that for himself. I need him to understand I’m not the same person he knew so I could find out, once and for all, whether or not he could accept that.

Accept me. As I am.

“I do.” Look different. “You look…good,” I settle on. Because despite the fact that he looks like the same guy I’ve always known, he does look healthy.

“I… I wish I knew you were comin’. I don’t know what to say,” Diesel replies.

“You’ve been callin’ me for months,” I remind him. “Tryin’ to get me to talk. Well, here I am.”

He scrubs at the back of his head again, ruffling his short hair. “I’m sorry I hung up on you last time. I didn’t wanna say somethin’ I’d regret.”

I roll that over. He didn’t want to say something offensive, so it was better to say nothing at all.

“We can’t have a relationship based on ignorance,” I voice gently.

“What d’you mean?” he asks.

“I mean… You say you wanna be my brother again. That you want us to be close. But Diesel, you don’t support me. You haven’t accepted that I’m queer. You’d rather turn a blind eye. And no matter how many conversations we’ve had about my gender, you still call me ‘Bobby.’” His throat bobs, but I keep on. “You can’t even look at me.”

He does, finally, lifting his eyes to me for the first time since we sat down. His gaze flickers, as if he doesn’t know where to look. As if he’s uncomfortable simply setting eyes on my person.

“I’m tryin’,” he says.

“Why?” I can’t help but ask. Why bother with me when he hasn’t made a single effort with Cooper?

“I miss you,” he says. “I miss what we had. You were my best friend. My brother. You always had my back.”

My very lungs deflate.

He misses what he lost. That doesn’t mean he wants to get to know me now.

“We were in it together,” he goes on. “And now you’re just…gone. You left me behind.”

I laugh harshly despite myself. “I left ’cause it was killin’ me, Diesel. Every year, pretendin’ to be somethin’ I wasn’t, was killin’ me.” I inhale roughly, embarrassed that my eyes are already stinging. “That person you had such a jolly good time with, intimidatin’ other kids and bein’ reckless assholes, was terrified. I was terrified that you or Pa would realize I was different. Those years you miss were the worst of my life. I don’t ever wanna go back there.”

He grunts, pushing up out of his seat before plopping right back down. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say somethin’?”

“I did,” I answer him. “When it was safe for me to do so. When I had Aunt Sara. And d’you remember what you called me? When I finally told you I’m queer?”

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