Into the Real

by Z Brewer

  As a reflex, I stood up and took two steps away from my bed. Away from Lia. “We were just talking.”

  “Alone in your bedroom? Isn’t this precisely what we discussed?” She’d snapped her eyes to me but turned her attention right back to Lia, as if my girlfriend were some sort of dangerous animal that had to be watched at all times. “You need to leave her alone and let her heal.”

  “She can’t heal.” Lia stood, venom coating her every word. “Because she isn’t sick.”

  Mom’s face went red. She pointed to the door and barked, “Out.”

  The two women I cared about most in the world stood at odds in front of me, and I couldn’t think of a single way to calm the chaos I’d created. “Mom—”

  “Now. And if I ever see you with my daughter again, there will be serious consequences.”

  I didn’t know what my mom had in mind. A restraining order, maybe? I only knew that she meant what she said. Once my parents made up their collective mind about something, nothing could change it.

  Lia cast me a glance, wiping away a tear as she stormed out of the room. “Have fun at Camp Bigotry.”

  I whispered, “Lia—”

  “We’re leaving in five minutes. Are you finished packing?” For a brief moment, my mother’s frosty exterior thawed. “Oh, sweetheart. One day soon you’ll see this is really for the best. You’re just confused. Everything will be all right. You know your dad and I only want what’s best for you. Camp Redemption can help you.”

  “So, what if I go to Camp Redemption and get . . . get . . .” The word felt strange to say, but I had to say it. It was the only way she’d really hear my question. “. . . better? If I get better, can Lia and I still hang out?”

  Her eyes betrayed her answer before she even spoke. “We’ll discuss that when you get home.”

  If I determined at this camp that I was straight, I was going to lose Lia. But if clarity led me to confirm I was gay, my parents were still going to do all they could to remove her from my life.

  Let them try.

  “How long will I be there?”

  “As long as it takes for you to get well.” She held my gaze for a moment, as if there was more that she wanted to say but was struggling with how to say it. More than anything, I wanted her to tell me that she loved me no matter what. I wanted her to say that it didn’t matter if I was gay, straight, or anything else. That all that mattered was the fact that I was her child. I waited for those words, or some like them, to leave her lips, but instead she said, “You know, you’d look so pretty if you’d grow your hair out.”

  It took me a moment to remove the lump from my throat. “I guess.”

  “Hurry up now. Your dad’s got the car running.” With that, she whisked herself out the door, leaving me behind with more questions than answers, more heartache than support.

  “Hey, kiddo. You okay?” Kai was leaning against my doorjamb, his arms folded in front of him. His chocolate-brown hair was hanging in his eyes a bit. He needed a haircut, but I knew he wouldn’t get one. The last time he’d been home from college, he said he was growing it out just to piss off Dad. Much like my parents, once Kai had set his mind on something, he did it. Even if it was just a simple act of defiance.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I said, “You’ve gotta ask?”

  The corner of his mouth pulled a bit to the side, like he was trying to avoid frowning. “They just want the best for you.”

  “But do they, though? I mean, what if I’m not confused or sick or whatever? What if I really do like girls?”

  He brushed his hair from his eyes and looked past me to the window. Maybe he was checking to see if Mom was outside by the car, out of earshot. It seemed like something he’d do. We’d shared and kept each other’s secrets for as long as I could recall. “Are you saying you’re happy being gay and just going to this place to keep the peace?”

  “No. I really don’t know for sure if I’m gay or not. Sometimes I think so. Some days I don’t. I’m going to Camp Redemption to try to figure that out.” It sounded stupid when I said it out loud, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  The crystal hanging in my window was reflecting beautiful, bright dots of light on the wall. Small things. But they made all the difference. Like Kai.

  He said, “You just make sure you’re the one answering that question, okay? Nobody but you has the right answer. Plus, you may find out you’re something else altogether. Bisexual, pansexual . . .”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m straight.”

  Only my brother could make me smile in almost any given situation. “Not what I meant. How would you feel if it turned out I was into girls?”

  “Honestly, I’d feel conflicted.” My stomach dropped in surprise. I’d thought that if any one person would support me no matter what, it would be him. An aching loneliness crept into the corners of my heart. But then he said, “On one hand, we could check out girls together. On the other, you’d be competition.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and gave his shoulder a light shove. “Be serious for a minute.”

  Outside, Dad honked the horn in three quick bursts.

  I sighed, flicking my eyes toward the window. “Do you think I could be the daughter they want and the girl Lia wants at the same time?”

  “I feel like what you’re asking me is a paradox.”

  “I’m just looking for a solution that won’t make me lose Lia or our parents.”

  “That’s the essence of a paradox—it cannot be solved. It essentially asks a question that cannot be answered.” Kai’s smirk melted away. He met my gaze and held it. Sometimes I forgot how pretty his eyes were.

  “And if it is a paradox?”

  “Putting it in the most scientific of terms . . . you’d be fucked.” His tone was teasing, his smile easy. “Look, if you want answers and think this place might help you find them, then go. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get home. Straight or gay.”

  My eyes burned with tears. I hurried so fast into his embrace that I swore I almost knocked him over. My words came out in a rattle. “I worry I’ll break Lia’s heart.”

  His breath was warm as he spoke into my hair. His arms were warm wrapped around me. All of Kai was warm. “You can’t risk your heart to protect hers. If you’re into guys, then you’re into guys and she’s gonna have to understand.”

  Sniffling, I pulled back from him and dried my eyes with my hands. “What if she doesn’t?”

  “Quinn, we’re waiting!” Mom called from out front. The tone of her voice suggested that if I didn’t walk out the front door right away, she and Dad were going to carry me out.

  Kai picked up my backpack and carried it downstairs. We stepped out the front door onto the porch, and he handed the bag to me. I grabbed it, but he didn’t let go right away. “Stop worrying so much about what other people think. It’s not their life. It’s yours. And you only get one. Live it out loud.”

  I hugged him tight, and the strange feeling that I’d never see him again—that I’d somehow lost him before—washed over me. I pushed that feeling away, attributing it to nerves. As I slid into the back seat and closed the door, Kai waved. I waved back and let my fingers rest for a moment against the glass. “There’s a student council meeting in three weeks, right before school starts. Do you think I’ll be able to make it?”

  Mom said, “Oh, honey, I’m sure you’ll be better by then. If not, I’ve been informed that Camp Redemption offers homeschooling as part of their program. Just in case.”

  I bit my bottom lip. Was she really thinking that far ahead?

  We pulled out of the driveway and turned left, leaving everything but my questions behind. The drive across town was brief and quiet, and I was grateful when my dad turned on the radio. It made it easier for me to sit in wondering silence for a while. On one corner was a stop sign, with two street signs on top of it. One read Taylor Drive. The other read Oaks Avenue.

  We passed tree-lined streets and kids playin
g in their yards, streetlamps and historic homes, postal employees delivering mail with a sun-drenched background. We passed the cave in the park where Kai and I had played when we were younger. Something about it triggered a memory I couldn’t pin. I’d entered the cave once. And at the back there was . . . something. Something that had frightened me. I couldn’t remember what now.

  My thoughts dissolved as we passed my high school, now closed for the summer. Leaning against the building was a man I didn’t know, inhaling on a cigarette as he watched our car pass by. As he drew in the smoke, the ember at the tip glowed. He wore a long, black snakeskin trench coat that seemed like it might be too warm to wear in the summer. His dark hair, wet and stringy, hung in his eyes. As I watched him, I got the unsettling impression that he was watching me back. The sight of him made goose bumps rise on my skin, despite the warm weather.

  When the sidewalks ended and the rural area outside of Brume proper began, my dad slowed the car and turned us onto a small, winding road. At the end of that road was a large, white farmhouse. The grounds were filled with lush flower gardens and big trees. The porch was home to two rocking chairs and a crystal wind chime. It didn’t look like a gay conversion camp. At least, not at all what I’d imagined. It looked like a place people went for convalescence. It looked nice. Picturesque. Almost too pretty to be real.

  My nerves let up some as Dad brought the car to a stop in front of the house. He and Mom exited right away. I took two deep breaths before opening the door and getting out of the back seat.

  A woman wearing a white cotton dress, pink gardening gloves, and a straw sun hat saw us and smiled. She stood from where she’d been tending to a bed of impatiens and removed her gloves, dropping them into a basket containing a variety of gardening tools, and approached our car. “Welcome! It’s so nice to meet you, Quinn. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you. My name is Alice. I’m the liaison here at Camp Redemption.”

  “Nice to meet you.” The screen door opened, and a girl stepped outside with a watering can. I watched as she tended to the ferns that were hanging along the porch. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt but was clearly too young to be staff. I’d thought, for some reason, that patients—or whatever we were called here—would be in scrubs or something. The normalcy of her attire was comforting.

  “You’re probably a little nervous about coming here. Don’t worry. That’s normal for newcomers. But it won’t take long for you to view our camp as a second home. A safe space of healing and support. I’ll just get one of our staff to help you to your room.” Alice scanned the grounds, squinting her eyes against the sunlight. “Roderick? Could you come help—”

  “I’ll help her.”

  A guy my age appeared to my left. He kept his dark eyes focused on Alice, but I got the impression he was enjoying having an audience for this encounter. Maybe for any encounter.

  The look on Alice’s face said she didn’t care much for him. “I’m sure Roderick can—”

  “Or if you’d prefer, I can stay here and chat with her parents while you show her to her room. Choice is yours.” I couldn’t see the smirk that went with that, but I knew it was there. He extended his hand to me, and as I shook it, he said, “Name’s Mike. Mike Oxlong. And if you get that joke, you and I are gonna be fast friends.”

  It took every ounce of my will not to crack up laughing. Mike Oxlong. That was fantastically dirty. Lia certainly would have been fast friends with this guy.

  Alice paused, as if debating how not to make a scene. Finally, she relented. “Thank you, Lloyd. It would be nice of you to help our new friend get acclimated. Quinn, you’ll be in room three. Lloyd will see that you find it all right. Your parents and I have a few details to discuss, but you should say your goodbyes now so we can begin your healing process.”

  My heart felt both heavy and hopeful, though I wasn’t sure how it could feel both ways at the same time. I looked at my parents. My dad wouldn’t meet my eyes. My mom looked like she could start crying any minute. “So . . . I guess I’ll see you soon, then, huh?”

  Dad gave me a brief hug and said, “Work hard. Get well. God loves you, Quinn.”

  Mom squeezed me tight and kissed my cheek. “Bless you, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”

  “Ready?” Lloyd picked up my suitcase and flashed me a smile. With a nod, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed him up the porch steps. As he held the screen door open for me, he said, “So. The tour. Not counting staff quarters, there are ten beds here. Eight are in the main house. The other two are in the guesthouse. Only six beds are taken at the moment. Looks like you lucked out. The AC is way better in here. If you need me for whatever reason, I’m in the guesthouse by myself, for the time being.”

  The inside of the house was just as quaint and welcoming as the outside. Cozy-looking furniture, tasteful wall art. It was everything you’d expect a modern farmhouse straight out of Pinterest to be. “If there are open beds in the main house, why are you in the guesthouse?”

  “Because I’m . . . How did Dr. Hillard put it?” He looked up, as if the answers were written on the ceiling, before snapping his fingers in recollection. “Oh yeah. A potentially harmful influence.”

  “Have you been here long?”

  “Six months so far.” He led me up a set of stairs to the second floor. The hall was long, and each door was painted a different color. Lloyd snickered. “Think they have any clue that it looks a bit like a pastel rainbow up here?”

  He wasn’t really asking me, so I didn’t really answer him. Besides, I had a more pressing question for him. “Six months seems like a long time. The program. Is it . . . working?”

  “Not for me, sweetie. But then, I’m not the one with the problem. My parents think that the best way to solve a problem is to send it away until it fixes itself. The thing is, I may be pansexual . . . but I’m sure as hell not broken. Nobody here is. It’s just that so many of them fear that they might be.” His words saddened me, because I was one of the “them” he was talking about. I wasn’t sure I felt whole loving another girl, when I had to keep it behind closed doors. What I had with Lia didn’t always feel like real love—maybe because we always had to hide it.

  Lloyd interrupted my thoughts by rapping on the lavender door at the end of the hall. “Here’s your room.”

  When I turned the glass doorknob and pushed the door open, I was greeted by a room as nice as any guest room in a real home. A hand-sewn quilt lay on the four-poster bed, atop which sat several decorative pillows. The Tiffany–style table lamp on the nightstand depicted deep-red roses and what looked like black vines. The tall dresser near the window was painted in crackled cream-colored paint. In the corner, there was a green wingback chair. The air smelled like cinnamon, but not in an overpowering potpourri way. More like someone had baked a pie in the kitchen and the delicious scent had found its way here. I nodded and set my backpack on the bed. “It’s nice.”

  Lloyd’s jaw clenched for a moment. “Not too bad for a gilded cage, right? If you like watching TV, you’re shit out of luck. Secular entertainment isn’t allowed or condoned here at Camp Happy Sunshine. There’s a bathroom at the other end of the hall, near the stairs we just came up. Dining room is down the stairs to the right. Dinner’s at six. I’ll save you a seat.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. All I did was show you to your room at the end of the rainbow.” With a wink, he exited, shutting the door behind him.

  The end of the rainbow. I couldn’t help but think that would have been a more fitting name for a place like this than Camp Redemption was.

  The single window was framed in walnut, with white sheer curtains that reminded me of the ones that hung in my bedroom back home. Outside, the sun was shining down on a couple of gardeners, along with Alice and a man wearing a sweater vest and tie, who I could only guess was the Dr. Hillard Lloyd had referred to. My parents were pulling away from the house, and I watched their car until
I couldn’t see it anymore. It was strange, to be away from home and not know for how long, or even what to expect during my stay here. What if I hated it? What if I loved it? What if it changed me?

  Stop it, Quinn. Focus on the basics before you move on to existential questions.

  One of the gardeners was standing in the yard leaning on a rake. His hair was stringy and looked wet even from a distance. He looked so familiar to me, but it took me a minute to recognize how he very much resembled the man who’d been leaning against the wall of the high school. The sight of him made my stomach flip-flop. Not only was he strange and out of place beside all the clean-cut employees at Camp Redemption—he was also looking right at me, with a small, knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine. He offered me a casual salute.

  I drew the curtains closed and started unpacking. It was impossible not to notice that my hands were shaking as I put my clothes away.

  When I’d finished, I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was so close to six. With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped into the hall. It seemed so much longer now that I was walking it alone. Maybe that was just because I didn’t know exactly what lay ahead of me—both literally and figuratively. The stairs creaked under my feet as I descended, and I heard voices coming from the back of the house. Following them, and with Lloyd’s directions, I found my way to the dining room, which looked just as homey and welcoming as the rest of the house. Setting the table was a boy with blond hair and blue eyes. He looked to be lost in his own world, and wherever that world was, it didn’t look like a happy place. I cleared my throat so that I wouldn’t startle him. “Hi there. I’m Quinn.”

  A fork dropped from his hand to the table, but he recovered and flashed me a small smile. “Hey. Um. Good to meet you. I’m Caleb.”

  “Want some help?” That lurking pain crossed his eyes again, as if I’d pulled him from wherever his mind had been only to push him right back there. Maybe what I’d asked was a loaded question here. I gestured to the table. “With the dishes, I mean.”