The Bravest Thing

by Laura Lascarso

  “Did you always want to be a rancher?” I ask Mr. Webber one afternoon.

  “For a spell I wanted to be a ball player. I played for a year in the minor leagues, but I missed the farm too much. My dad was getting on in years and my sister wasn’t cut out for ranching—she’s a city girl—so it worked out that I came back and took over. Haven’t wanted to leave since then. Well, except recently.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask. We’ve developed an easy rapport. He doesn’t offer much in the way of starting conversation, but he doesn’t seem to mind answering my questions. He probably gets lonely being out here by himself all day long.

  “Berlin’s had a hard time of it lately,” he says, not looking my way. “I don’t think he has any friends left at that school. Didn’t want to leave the ranch much. Wasn’t sleeping or eating either. I was pretty worried about him.”

  I turn away, feeling guilty that I left him in his time of need. He’s had to suffer alone through the torment of the bigot brigade.

  “He’s better now,” Mr. Webber says, perhaps sensing my troubled thoughts. “He cares a lot for you, Hiro. Kind of reminds me of….” He drifts off. “Well, never mind.”

  I don’t ask who he’s thinking of, but I sense it might be Berlin’s mother.

  “That was a tough lesson for me,” he says after a minute. “As a parent, you want to give your kid all the tools they need to survive in this world. But there’s some things I can’t teach him.”

  We hear Berlin’s truck approaching then. I see him through the windshield, smiling, one arm resting on the open window.

  “I think you’ve done a pretty good job, Mr. Webber.”

  He adjusts his hat, kind of nods without openly acknowledging the compliment. His modesty reminds me of Berlin. “Remember what I told you about using your legs.” He starts to walk away, waving at Berlin as he goes. “Your back will thank you.”

  BERLIN SPENDS the nights with me out in the barn. Mr. Webber doesn’t seem to mind. At least, I don’t pick up on it. At first it’s very innocent between Berlin and I, fully clothed cuddling, but as the days pass, our fervor for each other grows, and it seems inevitable where we’re headed. Berlin doesn’t go there, though. Maybe he’s waiting for me to make the first move.

  One night after we’ve messed around, I’m laid out beside him with my arms spread, my body still humming with pleasure, when he turns and props himself up on his elbow. I shield my scar out of habit. I catch him looking at it sometimes and I know he feels bad about it, which makes me feel bad. It’s like a never-ending cycle of sadness and guilt between us.

  “What is it?” I ask. He’s staring at me with a thoughtful expression.

  “I have some questions.” His face darkens in the moonlight. He’s blushing.

  “Questions?” I prompt.

  He ducks his head into the corner of his elbow. “About sex.”

  I roll over to face him, my posture mimicking his own. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Most of what I know comes from what I’ve read or seen online.”

  I figured as much, which makes me feel like I have a responsibility to him. It’s much easier to learn by doing than by watching or reading about it.

  “So, there’s different… positions,” he says shyly.

  “Tops and bottoms,” I say. “And some guys do both.”

  “Right. So, are you…? I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable….”

  It seems to me that Berlin is the one who’s uncomfortable, but I cut him some slack. I want him to feel secure about the prospect of anal sex. The unknown can be scary. “I mainly bottomed with Seth, but I did try topping a few times. I prefer to bottom, I think.”

  He scratches at the back of his neck, and I admire his muscles. I drift off in a daydream about what it might be like to share that with him. Would it be rough or tender? Wild or controlled? Any which way, I know it’d be good. Berlin is generous and he’s a good listener in more ways than one, and even though he’s big, he’s careful to not use his body to intimidate others, something I really like about him.

  “I’m not sure what I am,” he says sheepishly and hides his face in the crook of his elbow. I have a hunch on his preference, but I’m not going to state it for him.

  I sit up in the bed. I’m usually pretty casual when I talk about sex, but Berlin is kind of a romantic, and he’s clearly shy about it. I don’t want to sound condescending or unfeeling, so I choose my words carefully. “Do you ever think about having sex with me?”

  He nods, avoiding my eyes. I smile a little at his bashfulness. I think about having sex with him the majority of my waking hours and some of my slumbering ones as well.

  “So, when you’re thinking about it, what’s it like? Are you penetrating me or are you being penetrated?”

  He looks embarrassed, straining his neck so that the muscles in his shoulders bunch up. “The first one,” he says softly.

  “Then you’re probably a top, not that you have to label yourself that way or stick to one role. You can always try new things.”

  He sighs with relief. Then his eyes cloud over again. “I have another question.”

  I bite back a smile and nod. “I’m all ears.”

  “Were you and Seth… were you guys safe?”

  Berlin is a careful guy. The fact that we haven’t already had sex shows just how much self-control he has, because in the moment, if he asked me, I wouldn’t refuse him. It’s something I really admire about him. I’m impulsive and reckless, so I appreciate his caution.

  “Yeah, we were safe. He’s kind of a slut, so I was strict about that. But I can get tested if it’ll make you feel better.”

  He nods. “I think it would.”

  He seems to be struggling with something else. I know better than to rush him. Berlin needs time to work up to whatever he’s trying to say, so I sit there quietly, until finally his pretty blue eyes meet mine.

  “I want you to be my first,” he says, and then with less confidence, “if you want that too.”

  I smile. Inside my chest, my miniscule heart expands. Of course I want him. It’s simple chemistry, but Berlin is special and worthy of someone who can love him with the same ardor and commitment. I know from experience how attached you can get to your first. I’ve only been clean for a few weeks. I worry that when temptation presents itself again, I’ll cave, leaving Berlin in my wake of destruction, just like my parents. I don’t want to do that to him, and the closer we become, the more I fear I will.

  “I do want that, Berlin, but I don’t think I’m ready.” I don’t go into all my doubts and insecurities, just leave it at that.

  “I understand,” he says. His brow furrows. I don’t want him to take it personally or think it’s a reflection of my feelings for him.

  “It’s not you.” Our relationship is so much simpler and more honest than what I had with Seth—no mind games or power struggles, no wondering at any given moment where I stand. “I trust you. It’s me I don’t trust yet.”

  He glances up at me, his eyes full of compassion and kindness. “I trust you,” he says and opens his arms to me. I nestle down beside him, and he nuzzles the back of my neck. He falls asleep almost immediately while I lie awake, wrestling with my own doubts, which have nothing to do with sex or Berlin and everything to do with my addiction.

  The more I reflect on all the mistakes I’ve made, and then made again, the more it becomes clear to me that I have something to prove, which is that I can make it on my own. At present I have Berlin’s constant care and affection, and I’m cut off from any source of temptation, which keeps me from sinking back into my old ways. But what happens when I don’t have Berlin?

  After that night I make a plan. Over the next few weeks, I save up all the money I earn from taking care of the horses, and I ask my mom for a loan to cover the rest. She and I go into Austin one morning and find an apartment. I apply for jobs online with an old laptop Berlin let me borrow. There isn’t much out there for a seventeen-year-old h
igh school dropout, and I want to stay away from working at a restaurant or bar, because I know from experience there are a lot of drugs in those environments.

  I should have told Berlin straightaway what I was planning, but I didn’t want him to try to talk me out of it, because I knew he’d probably succeed. I want to move past living one day at a time and start planning a future for myself, and maybe even for the both of us. I have to prove I’m someone worthy of his affection.

  Still, Berlin always knows when I’m hiding something from him. He doesn’t pressure me, though, just asks me from time to time what’s on my mind. The more I hide it from him, the more it feels like lying. There’s no easy way to put it, but I can’t keep it from him any longer. It’s eating me up inside and probably stressing him out as well.

  One night as we’re cleaning up after dinner, I just come out with it.

  “I’m moving to Austin.”

  He takes a step back like I’ve shot him in the chest and sets down the towel he was drying his hands on.

  “You’re not happy here?” he asks.

  “That’s not it at all. I love being here with you and your dad, working with the horses, but I need to prove I can be independent.”

  “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

  “I need to prove it to myself, then. I have to be able to say no, when the time comes, and as much as I love it here, there’s no way I can know if I’m over my addiction or not.” If I’m not, I need to self-destruct without Berlin there to witness it. I swear I’ll never put him through that hell again.

  “But you’ll be safe here,” Berlin says, and my heart just about breaks.

  “You and your dad have been so generous to me. If you hadn’t come to get me….” I don’t like to think about my sorry shape when Berlin found me, the desperation of my situation with Seth, and the shame I’ve felt since then.

  “We don’t have to talk about that,” Berlin says, being way too generous, again. I will never be able to repay him for his kindness, and even though I know he wants me to stay, for all his good intentions, I can’t be a real partner to him until I know I can stand on my own two feet.

  “I want to be someone worthy of someone like you,” I tell him.

  “You already are, Hiro,” he says with more empathy than I deserve.

  “Well, I need to show you, through my actions.”

  He sighs like an ornery bull and says in a heavy voice, “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

  I nod. The look on his face is so sad it makes me have second thoughts. I could still cancel my apartment, even though I’d lose my deposit.

  “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asks.

  I shrug. “A while.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” He winces like he’s in pain. I wonder if it’s my secrecy that bothers him more than the fact I’m leaving.

  “I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.”

  He nods. “Oh.”

  I can tell he’s hurt, and I resist the urge to say more. I want to give him the time and space he needs to process it.

  “Can I visit you?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

  “Of course. I want you to. I can come back here too.”

  His knuckles grind into the wood countertop. I’ve dropped a bomb on him, and he doesn’t know how to respond.

  “Are you mad at me?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and drags one hand through his golden hair. “I’m not mad. I’m just afraid you’re going to disappear again. Not knowing where you were or if you were okay, that was hard.”

  The way his dad described him in my absence, it sounded like he was depressed. I figured it was because of the abuse he was getting at school, but maybe part of it was me leaving as well.

  “It won’t be like that, Berlin. We can talk or text whenever we want. And after I’ve had some time to get settled, we can visit each other. It’s only a half-hour drive.”

  He nods, but I don’t think he believes me. “Okay,” he says. “If that’s what you need. I sure am going to miss you, though.”

  I come over and hug him. He’s just so sad. I want to give him everything that night to show him how much I care for him, but I don’t want to make it harder for him after I leave. And I don’t want our physical closeness to detract from my plan.

  Instead, we hold each other like we’re each clinging to a life raft.

  Berlin

  I DON’T like the fact that Hiro’s leaving. Not one bit. I just got him back, and I’m not sure he’s strong enough yet to be on his own. But I understand his need to be independent, and I respect him for it.

  I think long and hard about what I can do to contribute to his cause. It happens to be what might make me feel better about the whole thing too. So the day before he’s set to leave, I bring him down to the stable, make him close his eyes. I made a trade with a neighbor, a piece of machinery for an old Yamaha motorcycle. It isn’t as nice as his tricked-out Ninja—I didn’t know where to find Seth, and truthfully, I didn’t want to tangle with him again—but it’s in proper working order, if a little battle-scarred.

  “Open your eyes,” I say.

  I should have taken a picture of his face. I’ve never seen Hiro show so much emotion before—confusion, surprise, excitement, maybe even some doubt.

  “Berlin,” he says softly.

  “What do you think?”

  “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you I didn’t have to pay for it?”

  He tilts his head and smiles. “A little better.”

  I squeeze his shoulders. “This way you can get around town, maybe even make it out into the suburbs for a visit.”

  He throws his arms around me, squeezes tightly. “Thank you,” he says and then, almost too quiet to hear, “I don’t deserve you.” I wonder if he truly believes that.

  “Yes, you do.”

  We spend the rest of the day down by the creek, just throwing pebbles into the water and talking. He’s heading out tomorrow morning. I wish I could slow time and live in this day forever. It feels like a gift from God, sharing this with the person I adore most.

  “You haven’t been going to church,” he says. “Unless you’ve been sneaking out before the sun rises.”

  I clear my throat. I hope he doesn’t think my poor church attendance means I’ve stopped believing in God. Prayers are all I’ve had to keep me sane these past few months. Prayers and chores, which for me go together hand in hand. I prayed long and hard on Hiro too. When he called me, those prayers were answered.

  “Pastor Craig and I had a difference of opinion,” I tell him. Ever since coming out, I haven’t felt comfortable in church. There’s too much judgment and not enough compassion and understanding. “I feel like some of the things he’s preaching aren’t being acted upon by the congregation.” I’m bitter too that Pastor Craig hasn’t done anything to address the violence committed against Hiro by some of his own members. I don’t mention that to Hiro, though. I don’t want him to think I’m spreading his business around town.

  “Do you miss it?” he asks me.

  “I miss the sense of community. I miss that about football too—working together as a team, but I’m making new friends at school. Spencer, for one.”

  Hiro nods and says with a smile, “Are you leaving me for a ginger, Berlin?”

  I chuckle, and then, more earnestly, “I’d never leave you.”

  He ducks his head and smiles, chucks a rock into the water. I want to memorize his face, happy and content, for when I’m feeling lonely in the days and weeks to come.

  “How’s school been?” he asks. He seems to be bracing himself for the answer.

  “Not great.”

  “Trent,” he says. Just saying the name sounds painful for him.

  “I didn’t realize how bad it was on the other side. I’m sorry for that. I should have been on your side from day one.”

&
nbsp; “I put you in a difficult position,” he says, giving me way too much leeway.

  “I put myself there.”

  He shrugs. “At least you don’t have to hide it anymore.”

  I feel the guilt rising up inside me, a lead balloon that’s always there. “I wish I’d done something different. That night or before. I wish it was me they’d come after.” I grind my knuckles into the dirt. I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but it feels like, by not talking about it, it’s taking up more space than it ought to.

  He rubs at his chest like it’s sore. It’s become a habit of his, one I notice every time.

  “Let’s not blame ourselves. We were both victims. Trent is the bad guy here, and the culture of homophobia at Lowry High School. It almost destroyed us once. Let’s agree to not let that happen again. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  We ride back on the horses and put them to bed, then spend the rest of the evening upstairs tangled up in each other. The smell and feel and taste of him. There’s never enough time, and I feel desperate toward the end, trying not to fall asleep. I’m so worried I’ll never see him again. But there’s nothing I can do to stop him. His mind is made up.

  Hiro leaves the next morning, wearing his signature black, with nothing but his camera equipment in his saddlebags and the clothes on his back. Right before he puts on his helmet, he glances my way and smiles, gives me a thumbs-up. He rides out of my life the same way he rode in. A beautiful storm.

  SPENDING ALL that time with Hiro renewed my sense of purpose. Even if I can’t get justice for what Trent did to him, I’m not powerless. The Monday after winter break, I ask Mrs. Potts for a meeting with her and the principal.