#Rev (GearShark #2)
Page 25
We glanced at each other strangely when the scent of freshly brewed coffee hit our noses the second we stepped out of the bedroom. Why would anyone else be up this early, especially after all four guys were out so late the night before?
Downstairs in the kitchen, I really thought I’d find Ivy up with Nova, but it wasn’t her blond head I saw.
It was Romeo and Braeden.
They were both looking surly and half asleep, with giant mugs of steaming coffee in their hands. Their mugs were the travel kind…
“What are you doing up?” I asked.
Braeden practically growled at me, and Romeo rolled his eyes. “Did you really think we’d let you two go back to Omega today for a vote about the fucktards who beat you up?”
“Uh, yea?” I said, going for the coffee. I grabbed one of the travel mugs sitting nearby and poured it almost full. Then I added some cream and shit and handed it to Drew.
He gave me a grateful look and wrapped his hands around it.
Then I went back for mine.
“Get your head out of your ass,” Braeden said. “We’re going. And if anybody even breathes wrong, I’m kicking their ass.”
“I’m not some little girl,” I reminded everyone. “I can take care of myself.”
“Until they decide to hold you down,” Drew rebutted.
I was never going to live that down. A guy gets his ass beat one time, and then he needs a bodyguard everywhere he goes.
“Look, obviously, we know you can handle yourself. We’re going anyway,” Romeo said.
“Fine.” I poured some coffee down my throat. I wasn’t going to argue anymore. Frankly, I was glad they were going. Not because I needed bodyguards, but because I needed my family.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen at the meeting today. I pretty much announced I was gay and in a relationship with Drew and then left.
Maybe Con was able to talk his way out of the fact I ratted him out. Maybe they were all plotting against me right now.
I didn’t care.
This meeting and vote was a formality. My way of giving the frat a chance to be who I tried to make them. I worked hard the last couple years on Omega’s image. I poured a lot of hard work into trying to hammer home the idea we didn’t have to be a bunch of asshole party boys.
Party boys? Sure. But assholes? No.
I kind of felt like maybe a parent might when they spent years raising a kid and then stood back and watched them enter the world. They watched and hoped they raised them well enough to be good people.
That was the road I was on right now.
I did everything I could to make Omega a better place. A respected place. Today, I found out if everything I did was for something…
Or for nothing.
Drew
Everyone was already gathered when the four of us walked into the Omega house.
It was quiet and impossible to make out the vibe I was picking up.
As soon as we opened the front door, we all exchanged looks, and Trent squared his shoulders and strode through the entry and into the dining room.
“I brought some friends,” he said, as Romeo, B, and I filled the doorway. “Anyone object?”
No one said anything.
Trent strode past the table and up to the podium at the head of the room. Jack was there off to his left, and everyone was sitting quietly, waiting.
Trent’s large hands wrapped around the edges of the podium, and he glanced out over the room. I could see the trepidation in his eyes but also his resolve.
I don’t know why, but I knew he expected the worst today.
Just like he expected the worst when he admitted to me how he felt about me, when he told the family, and even when we told Lorhaven.
For whatever reason, Trent was almost conditioned for the worst. I was beginning to see a disturbing pattern in his thinking. It wasn’t that he was a negative person. He wasn’t. And he always tried to reassure me, and everyone else around him, that everything would always be okay.
But I saw it now.
Deep down, Trent was always surprised when things worked out for him.
I didn’t like it.
In fact, it sort of pissed me off.
After he scanned the room, his face changed. He straightened. “Where’s Con and his merry band of dickheads?”
Some laughed.
A few others coughed.
Jack stepped forward. “They’re in the basement. Where we take the pledges.”
I leaned over toward Romeo. “Isn’t that like some storm cellar with stone stairs?”
Romeo nodded. “Yep. I was down there a couple times when I was rushing.”
“What the fuck are they down there for?” Trent asked.
Jack cleared his throat.
One of the other guys at the table leaned forward. “We tied them up. We weren’t about to let a bunch of bigots who don’t fight fair wander around this house.”
Romeo and Braeden both burst out laughing.
Trent blinked. “You tied them up in the basement because they beat me up?”
Another brother spoke up. “Them and a few other assholes who don’t like gays.”
This time I was the one who laughed.
“It was quite a night last night,” Jack told Trent.
“They’ve been down there all night?” He sounded flabbergasted.
See? He had a serious issue. He probably needed therapy.
Or maybe just some French fries.
“Well, yeah.”
Trent glanced out across the room. “So all of you are okay with the fact that your president is gay?”
“You aren’t gay. You’re Trent,” someone said.
Josh spoke up again. “You’ve always done right by this frat, and now we’re gonna do right by you. Being gay doesn’t make you any less than who you’ve been the past few years.”
“Now this,” Romeo said, “this is a frat I would have loved to join.”
People began nodding.
Trent stood there a moment and cleared his throat. He gripped the podium again, and I noticed how hard his fingers squeezed. “This is a proud moment for me. To look around this room and see not only acceptance, but pride in this fraternity. It was a long road to get here. Some days I wondered if we ever would, and some days I worried there might be more of you like Conner than like Jack.”
“Booo!” someone hollered from the back.
Trent grinned. It was welcome sight. He deserved to grin like that every day of his life.
“I guess I should have had more faith in my brothers. I can hand this house over to Jack now and look back on all the time I spent here with fondness, not contempt. Thank you guys for having my back and for not casting me out.”
Everyone started clapping.
“Well, this went a lot better than I thought,” Braeden told Romeo and me.
Romeo rolled his eyes.
When the clapping died down, one of the house members I didn’t really know stood up. “Can I say something?”
“I think you spoke to soon,” Romeo muttered to B.
“Sure,” Trent replied.
“I just want to thank you, Trent. Thank you for coming out and making me realize I don’t have to lie about who I am.”
“You’re gay?” Trent asked.
He nodded.
“That man love must be some good shit,” Braeden cracked.
Everyone looked at him.
“He’s an idiot. Ignore him,” Trent said. “Anyone in this room got a problem with Sam being gay?”
Sam glanced around nervously.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Good to hear,” Trent announced.
Sam looked relieved and sat back down.
Look at my guy making a difference.
“So should we put to vote the charter status of Conner and the others?”
“I think we already know the outcome,” Jack said.
“All those in favor of stripping their roles an
d removing them from the Alpha Omega brotherhood, say aye.”
Everyone said aye.
I did, too, even though I didn't really get a vote.
“I think that pretty much takes care of the meeting,” Trent said.
Jack spoke up. “There is one thing…”
“What?” he asked.
“What are we gonna do with all the guys tied up in the basement?”
In the end, the assholes were brought up to the meeting and stood in front of the fraternity.
I derived an immense amount of satisfaction from the fact that they all had their hands tied behind their backs and were wearing nothing but their underwear. The three guys who beat up Trent that played in the football game all had a nice spattering of bruises, and it appeared they had a few fresh black eyes to go with them.
The handful of guys who I guess spoke up against Trent and his sexual orientation also had some black eyes. I had to admit I gained a lot of respect for the house as a whole.
Whenever I looked at T, I could see the relief in his face. How heavily this had weighed on him and how much freer he looked now.
Conner and his followers were told their fate and given papers Trent drew up a long time ago (just in case) outlining they were being released from their charter. After they were untied, they signed the papers and were sent to pack.
The guys who didn’t participate in jumping Trent but didn’t agree with his lifestyle choice were given an option: stay and act like a decent human being or get the hell out.
Only one chose to walk. The rest decided being gay wasn’t that big of a deal after all.
Conner wasn’t happy about his fate. He told everyone as loud as he could, but his words didn’t carry any weight here anymore, and no one gave two shits he was upset.
When the four of them walked out of the house with their shit in their hands, everyone clapped. Conner turned back to likely sneer and deliver one last hateful comment to Trent, but he slammed the door in his face.
De-nied.
Once everything was taken care of, Romeo and B went back to the house. Trent took my hand and led me outside.
It was there, right there on the sidewalk in front of the Omega house, that he cradled my face and kissed me deep. When he pulled back, there was nothing but love in his eyes.
“Now what?” I asked, wrapping my hand around his.
“Now we go tell my mom and my grandmother.”
“Today?” I questioned.
He nodded. “I’ve put it off long enough, and I know you’re curious about where I came from.”
“I am,” I said as we walked hand in hand to my Fastback. “But honestly, it doesn’t really matter. You’re my person no matter what.”
“I know, which is why I want to do this.”
Inside the car, I fired up the engine and turned toward him. He kissed me again, just because he finally could. “It’s about an hour drive to my mom’s. We should probably stop and get some French fries.”
“I like the way you think, frat boy.”
We ate burgers and fries on the drive. He at my tomatoes, and I ate half his fries. We held hands over the gearshift and didn’t really talk about where we were going.
We retreated into the world that only existed when we were alone. Mostly, we talked about the GearShark article with Emily next week, racing, and what kind of place we wanted to get when he graduated.
The miles slipped by, and soon, we were pulling up to a small two-story, split-level home. It was brown with black shutters and a one-car attached garage. Hanging above the garage door was a weathered basketball hoop. The yard was small and the landscaping was minimal, but it was neat and clean. The street was lined with other houses that looked very similar, and all the trees on the street were mature.
I thought about how I felt right before we told my parents. Just recalling that day made my stomach twist a little and a knot form in my throat. I looked beside me at Trent, who didn’t appear to be struggling.
“Hey,” I said, pushing aside the way my parents hurt me. “You know what to expect in there?”
He thought it over for a minute. “Yes and no.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“My father left my mom when she told him she was pregnant. He didn’t want a kid, and in my opinion, he must not have wanted her,” he told me. “She raised me as a single mother, but I think it was more out of duty than motherly love. She wasn’t the… warmest mother. She isn’t like your mom. She didn’t hover and she wasn’t overprotective. She worked a full-time job, and then when I got older, she took on a part-time second job, and I spent a lot of time alone.”
Okay, so this was hard to hear. It also wasn’t what I expected. I guess I always assumed T had a pretty good life growing up. Sure, his dad wasn’t around, but that didn’t always mean life sucked.
“I spent a lot of time with my grandma.” He smiled for the first time since bringing up his family. “I call her granny.”
I nodded. That knot in my throat was back.
“So yeah.” He continued and cleared his throat. “I don’t expect much of a reaction because she never really gave one before. I think when I moved out to go to Alpha U, it was more of a relief for her.”
I didn’t understand. Maybe it was because I was raised with a mother who always cared too much (well, until I told her I was in love with a man) and a father who wanted to mold me in his image. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to come home from school to an empty house. To not have my parents show up for school stuff and award ceremonies.
“She ever been to one of your football games?” I asked.
“Not even one.”
I took those words like an arrow to my chest. He played college football for four years. In those four years, she never found time to go to one game?
No wonder he held so much inside. He’d only ever had himself. No wonder he always seemed surprised when our family showed up for him.
No one ever showed up for him before.
As if he sensed his answer upset me, he said, “But Granny watched all my games on TV. She even got a satellite dish so she wouldn’t miss them.”
It was like even now, when he was telling me about his life and the not-so-great life he had growing up, he was trying to make me feel better.
How the hell did a man turn out so fucking selfless when he grew up with a woman who wasn’t?
“She ever come to Alpha U?” I asked, not wanting to voice any of the thoughts tumbling through my mind. They would upset him. And maybe I was jumping the gun. Maybe I was reading this wrong and his mom wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining.
He shook his head. “She doesn’t get around too good. She has multiple sclerosis. She actually lives in a center for the elderly nearby.”
“A nursing home?” I questioned.
“No, it’s different. Kind of like a big apartment complex. The residents have their own places, but they have people who work there, a full staff plus a resident doctor that helps them with day-to-day stuff. She likes it there. She has her independence but still has the help she needs.”
It made me even sadder that the one person who seemed to give Trent the love he always deserved was a woman who was somehow afflicted with a painful disease.
Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.
“So you don’t think your mom is gonna act like my parents?” I asked.
He reached for the door handle and popped open his door. “Only one way to find out.”
Trent
I called ahead to tell her I was coming. It had been a while since I’d been “home,” and I wanted to be sure she’d be here. I didn’t know her schedule or even her routine. My mom and I just weren’t that close.
She didn’t ask why I was coming or if everything was okay. She just told me she’d be there, and I said okay.
When you walked into my childhood home, there was an immediate choice to go up or down. Downstairs was the doorway that led to the garage, the laundry room, and a family roo
m. Upstairs, which is where we headed, had three bedrooms, the kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom. The living room was open to the stairs, with a traditional wooden banister separating the spaces.
“Mom?” I called out when I saw she wasn’t sitting in the living room.
“In here,” she said from the other side of the wall where the kitchen was. Drew glanced at me, and I smiled. He seemed more nervous than I did. ‘Course, he was probably afraid this would be another situation like the one we dealt with in North Carolina.
The top of the stairs looked directly into the eat-in kitchen. In front of us was a wooden dining table that seated four and a set of sliders that led out onto a small wooden deck. Off to the right was the kitchen space, with a U-shaped layout for the appliances, cabinets, and countertops.
This house hadn’t changed since I was a kid. When she had the walls repainted, it was always in the same creamy off-white color. The carpet in the house was a neutral shade of tan, and all the finishes were standard for an older mid-priced home.
“Your room down there?” Drew asked, pointing down the hallway where the bedrooms were.
“Used to be the first door on the left.”
“Used to be?” he asked.
“She made it a sewing room when I moved out.”
I knew by the look on Drew’s face this displeased him. I was going to tell him it didn’t matter because this wasn’t my home anymore, but I didn’t get the chance.
“Oh, you brought a guest,” Mom said, and we both looked up.
My mom was a short woman, probably only about five feet three. She was thin and had hazel eyes like me. Her hair was light brown with golden highlights she probably got at the salon, but I really had no clue. She never bothered much with makeup, but she really didn’t need to. She had smooth skin and was still pretty young because she had me before she even turned twenty.
“Mom, this is Drew. I’ve mentioned him before,” I said. “Drew, this is my mom, Rebecca.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Mask,” Drew said, holding out his hand.