“So you knew even before?” I ask. “And you kept it a secret?”
“Of course.” Yazz shrugs. “I knew you’d come out when you were ready. But it made me happy that you had someone like Bryson in your corner when you did.”
I page through the comic book, admiring not only my younger sister’s talent but also her thoughtfulness. This without a doubt is the best gift I’ve ever received.
“I love you, Yazz.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Yazz says. “Let’s not get carried away.” She looks at me. “Is Bryson still your boyfriend?”
“Of course.”
“Then start acting like it.” Yazz sighs. “You know what trope I really hate is when the main character decides to give up on the person they love in the name of protecting them.” She fixes me with a stare. “That’s what you’re doing right now. You’re trying to protect Bryson, but you don’t realize you’re hurting him instead.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I try to argue.
“Really? Do you not like him anymore?”
“It isn’t that. Of course I like him.” I chew at my lip. “A lot.”
“Then why aren’t you seeing him?”
“Because I want to protect—” The words die on my lips. “Oh.”
“Exactly.” Yazz shakes her head in exasperation. “Sometimes I really worry about you. The advice is free this time, but next time it’ll cost you.” Yazz stands and heads for the door.
I pull my phone from my pocket and open Instagram. I click on Bryson’s profile. He’s uploaded something new. I hold my breath. It’s a picture of us, one we took on the beach last Sunday. He’s leaning his head close to mine and I’m smiling in a way I’ve never seen before. I look happy; we both do. But even more than the picture, the caption catches my eye and makes my heart race.
It was real then. And it’s real now. I’m using my wish now. I wish you were here. I miss you.
Already it has 219 likes and just as many comments, with the number growing as I watch. I study the picture once more. There’s no denying that it is a couple photo. This is Bryson Keller coming out…for me. I open the comments and scroll through them:
OMG. IS THIS REAL?!
Is Bryson dating Kai?
THEY LOOK SO CUTE!!!!!!
Is the dare really over?
I ship it!
Seriously? I can’t believe this.
I sit and stare without seeing. My sister is right. I have been an idiot. I’ve pushed Bryson away to protect him, but I haven’t asked how he feels about everything. Now I’m looking at the answer to my unasked question. This photo reminds me that it isn’t just about me. There are two people in this relationship.
I stand and grab my wallet and phone before running out of my bedroom.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s the three musketeers group chat.
Romeo, Romeo, where art thou?
I exit the house to find Donny and Priya standing next to the Quackmobile.
“Your chariot awaits,” Priya says. She dramatically motions to the car.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“What do you mean?” Donny asks. “We obviously came to help our best friend get his man.”
I look between them…confused.
“Yazz texted us, telling us she was going to kick your ass into gear,” Priya explains. “So we came to play our part.”
I look back at the house, where my mastermind sister is. Amazing.
“Plus, we saw Bryson’s post. It seems the King has a romantic side after all,” Donny says.
“I can’t believe Bryson just came out. This is awesome,” Priya says. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
Donny nods and climbs into the driver’s seat and Priya opens the passenger side to get in. I jump in the back.
Priya fiddles with the radio and settles on a love song. Satisfied with her choice, she turns the volume up.
“Where to?”
“Melody Beach,” I say.
Donny puts the car into gear and we speed off. As we drive to the beach, I hope that Bryson is still there. The photo was posted fifteen minutes ago. If he’s not at Melody Beach, I’ll call him. I will meet him today. I will fix what I’ve ruined.
We arrive fifteen minutes later, and it feels so much longer than that.
Priya twists in her seat and looks at me. She offers me a big smile.
“You can do this, Kai,” she says.
“We’ll be waiting for an update in the group chat,” Donny says.
I nod. “I’ll tell you everything.” I climb from the car. “Thanks for this.”
Priya rolls down her window. “Also, tell Bryson that tomorrow we’re having a double date. We still need to judge him.”
Donny sticks his head out the sunroof. “We also need to ask him what his intentions are with our sweet summer child.”
“Please don’t embarrass me,” I whine. “I’ve been through enough this week.”
“We would never do such a thing,” Donny says.
“Never,” Priya adds.
I laugh and turn away. I’m relieved when I spot Bryson’s Jeep in the parking lot.
I approach but find it empty. He isn’t at the basketball court, either.
In the distance I spot him. Bryson’s standing near the surf with his back to me, staring out at the setting sun.
He hasn’t noticed me yet. When I near, I reach for his hand, a balled fist at his side. Bryson startles at my touch and turns to me. He looks from my face to the hand that I’m holding. This is the first time I’ve reached for him.
“Am I dreaming?” Bryson asks. The sea air has playfully tousled his hair. He has a slight five-o’clock shadow, as though he couldn’t be bothered to shave. I want to run my finger along his jawline.
Instead, I draw him close and pinch him. “To prove it’s real.”
His lips twitch. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to tell you that I’ve been an idiot.”
“What do you mean?” His blue eyes darken with confusion.
“I’m sorry I asked for time. I was only doing it because I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“You should let me decide that,” Bryson says. He smiles and his dimple shows. “I already have.”
“I know,” I say. “I saw.” I can’t help but smile, too. Even so, I ask, “Are you sure?”
Bryson lightly grips my chin. “Yes.” He rests his forehead against mine. “This was my choice. I know what I want, and I want to be with you,” Bryson says, “regardless of what anyone else has to say. I like you, Kai Sheridan. I like you a lot.”
I didn’t think I could cry anymore after this week, and yet here I am crying again. It’s totally embarrassing. Bryson laughs, and I smack him on the chest.
“Shut up,” I say. “That was sweet.”
“I know.” Bryson winks. He reaches up to wipe away my tears with his thumbs. “You’re lucky you have such a sweet boyfriend.”
“Yes, I am.”
Bryson kisses me then, and I deepen it. Just like I wanted to before, I trace his jawline. Bryson bites at my bottom lip and I moan. Our mouths move against each other, and that becomes the only thing that matters.
I don’t know how long this will last, but I choose to focus on the here and now.
I choose to be happy.
Because I can be.
Because I deserve to be.
Gay means happy, too, you know.
Author’s Note
Telling this story was both the scariest and the most thrilling thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never before written a story so personal, so very tied to my own lived experience and history. There are many
bits and pieces of me in this book. Some are big—like Kai’s anxiety and blushing, my thoughts and feelings on coming out, growing up in a religious household, and being mixed race. Others, small—like Kai’s list of hates, his taste in music that distances him from his cousins, the lunchtime detentions and the blazer rule, and even the text-message flirting with someone you probably shouldn’t flirt with (ooh boy, that’s a story for another day).
When I sat down to write this book, I sought to tell an #ownvoices story for the LGBTQ+ reader that exists firmly within the LGBTQ+ narrative. I wanted a story that touches on the troubles and tribulations that many gay teens still face. But more than that, I wanted to tell the reader that despite those trials and tribulations, there is hope, that we have worth and deserve to be happy.
I know I’m not the first to tell a gay love story, but I’ve always believed that more than one story of a certain type can exist. We need more representation all around. We shouldn’t settle for just one thing, because we are not just one thing. Our race, culture, geography, sexuality, and experiences make us different. These things shape our stories, our lives. These things become the themes that we explore in the stories we tell. I hope that after reading this book, you can see my heart and my thoughts—that you can understand my inspiration a bit better. And if teens—or any readers, for that matter—see themselves in this story, in these characters, then I’ll consider my job done.
The guidance counselor in this book was purposely written to be hopeless at her job. If that feels true to life for you, and you’re looking for something more helpful, I urge you to read “Coming out of the Closet: Some Resources to Aid the Process” (huffpost.com/entry/coming-out-resources_n_4085658). James Nichols and the rest of the team at Huffpost Queer Voices wrote this wonderful article and compiled numerous resources not only for LGBTQ+ youth but also for parents and allies. Please remember that coming out is totally up to you. You get to decide when you want to.
Coming out is an important decision—life-changing, even—which is why I wanted this book to be more than a love story with a happy ending; I wanted it to be a coming-out narrative. I’m a firm believer that stories of this nature will always be needed because there will always be a teen faced with the daunting task of coming out. I’d love for a teen like that to pick up this book and feel seen—feel understood.
For so long, gays have been banished as background characters or cast as the main character’s best friend for comedic relief. And when I think back to the rom-coms I grew up on around the late nineties, most of the characters were White and heterosexual. Those movies made it seem as if only people who looked like that or loved like that deserved love stories. So I wanted this book to show that a lead who is gay and of mixed race can have a love story that could be described as epic.
I’d like to end this note by thanking those who’ve inspired me in the writing of Date Me, Bryson Keller. These authors, filmmakers, and other creators are crafting diverse stories about teens, sparking ideas, and inspiring a new generation of writers to tell stories with authentic representation. Such stories are woven into the tapestry of this novel. I owe a great debt to all of them, including the Norwegian web series Skam (particularly season 3), To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli (as well as the film adaption, Love, Simon), the manga Seven Days: Monday–Sunday by author Venio Tachibana and illustrator Rihito Takarai, and the ’90s rom-com She’s All That. Date Me, Bryson Keller is my #ownvoices take on these prior works.
Representation matters, and to all those who have inspired me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I hope this book can inspire another writer to tell their story—to write their response. We must continue to push forward, to demand that our stories be told with authenticity and care. The readers of the world deserve it. Children growing up deserve to see themselves as heroes, whether slaying dragons, saving the world, or simply falling in love.
We deserve to be loved, supported, and accepted.
We deserve to be happy. Always.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book should be considered a team sport. As such, I have so many people to thank. Forgive me if this section runs long, but having the opportunity to even write this feels surreal. I’ve always loved reading acknowledgments, and I can’t believe I’m sitting down to write my own. Be warned: I will repeat the words thank you no less than a bazillion times, and it still may not be enough. I will also mean it. Every. Single. Time.
First and foremost, thanks go to Mom and Dad, the best parents ever! Thank you for believing in me and for encouraging me to chase my dreams, no matter what anyone else said. Your unwavering support and love have made this book possible. I truly lucked out in the parent lottery.
To Shane, the best big brother in the world: Thank you for always having my back. I’m pretty sure you’d help me bury a body, too. To Charné, the best sister-in-law in the world (seriously, you’re practically just my sister at this point): Thank you for the encouragement and for always being willing to read everything I write. Thank you for helping me fancast my books too. To my nieces and nephew, who are too young to read this: Just know that I’m thankful to you, too. I love you so much more than words can say.
Thank you to the rest of my family—those still here and those who have passed. You’ve witnessed me chasing after this dream for years. Thank you for your words of encouragement. It took me a few years to get here, but thank you for always believing that I would.
To my best friend, Naadira: When the expression ride or die is thrown around, I think of you. We’ve been friends now for close to a decade, and I’ve loved every moment of it. Thanks for the laughs and the memories. I know that without you my life would be dull and incomplete. You’re my first fan, always willing to read my books—thank you, thank you, thank you. Long live “Kevra.”
To Saira: You know I can’t call you my best friend because your sister might smack me, but know that I have loved spending every moment with you, too. Your wit and honesty are truly highlights in my life. And to the rest of the Moodley family: Thank you for being a second family to me. When I say I’m part of the furniture, we know that I mean it.
To the Fourth-Row Rejects—or whatever we’re calling ourselves now: Thank you for being weird and wonderful with me. Temara Prem, Allan Convery, and Darren Jaynarayan, film school and my life would be a lot less meaningful without you. I can’t believe our group chat has been active since 2013. I think that’s when we met. (Is that right? You know I’m bad at math.) Special thanks to Allan for the deep-cut convos and for being my buddy in misery and hope. Here’s to us adulting and figuring stuff out! We got this, friends!
To Christopher Schelling: Thank you for taking a chance on a twenty-one-year-old writer with a dream. You taught me so much about writing and the industry. I’ll forever be grateful.
To Beth Phelan: Thank you for creating #DVpit. Without this spectacular program, I would not be living my dream right now.
To my writer friends—and I truly have met so many of you, and I am thankful to each of you, too. Lucky 13s—Julie C. Dao, Jessica Rubinkowski, Heather Kaczynski, Mara Fitzgerald, Rebecca Caprara, Austin Gilkeson, Jordan Villegas—I would be very lost without our email threads. You were there for me for the ups and downs, and the in-betweens, too. Your faith and support made me keep going, and I can’t thank you enough. Special thanks to Jessica for the pep talks and for pushing me to pitch this book in the first place.
To June Tan, Deeba Zargarpur, Emily A. Duncan, Rory Power, Christine Lynn Herman, Rosiee Thor, Emma Theriault, and Alexa Donne: Thank you for the support and chats. You make being a writer a lot less lonely. Special shout-out to Alexa Donne for being amazing and always willing to talk. Your advice and insights have been priceless. I’m blessed that I get to call you my friend.
To Gwen Cole: Thanks for being the best c
ritique partner. Your support, insight, and enthusiasm are truly invaluable to me. I’m a big fan of you and your stories!
To my Author Mentor Match mentees, Alexandria Strutz, Daniel Voralia, Debra Spiegel, and Joanne Weaver: Thank you for the support and trust. Alex, thank you for the chats and for fully understanding my love of not only BTS but also SHINee. The CDs you sent are among my most prized possessions, as are the photo cards. Next time, though, I will get the flaming charisma that is Minho. Thanks, friend!
And to Daniel, user of terrible fake accents and holder of an amazing British one: Thank you for the chats and, more often than not, for getting me. I can’t thank you enough for being the first reader of this book, and for offering brutally honest notes on those early chapters. They were just the kick I needed to get my confidence back, and I am forever grateful.
To the rest of the Author Mentor Match family: Thanks for the support. It means the world to me.
To my editor—and magical human being—Chelsea Eberly: Your insight into this world and these characters has truly been invaluable. Thanks to you, this story is much stronger. You pushed me further and further with each draft, and I am grateful that you did. From the moment I got your first edit letter, I knew that you understood Kai and Bryson and the rest of the cast. That you believed in this story with all your heart. Thank you for making this debut experience one I can look back on fondly. Thank you for making an offer and turning my dreams into reality. Thank you for loving this book as much as I do.
To Polo Orozco, thank you for your wonderful insight, and for getting me and this book across the finish line.
To everyone at Random House Children’s Books: Thank you for the support and the work you’ve put into this book. Regina Flath, my book designer, you designed the most amazing book cover and jacket ever. I seriously get chills when I look at it. Howard Huang and the cover models, thanks for the photographs and for playing a part in creating something truly spectacular.
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