by Andy Gallo
“It’s an old statement that was probably big when Gage drafted the document. It basically means immorality.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong. Did I?”
Nico shook his head. “Remember, this was written over a century ago. Some of the specific acts mentioned are sodomy and unnatural acts—”
“Right, but sexual orientation is protected by the university.”
“The list also includes premarital sex and adultery. Those have nothing to do with the gender of who you are sleeping with. Technically, he could use the fact you two aren’t married to deny your renewal.”
“But . . . he can’t prove it.”
Nico let out a sigh. “The problem is, even if he can’t, he can say that it’s true and yank your scholarship.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Nope. I think if you sued you’d probably win—eventually. But that will take years. And you’d need a good lawyer willing to take on something as well-funded and respected as the Gage Family Foundation. In the meantime, you’d have to find another way to pay for school.”
Isaiah dropped back on the bed and scrubbed his face. “This is such bullshit.”
Nico patted his knee. “You met Josh Gage. Do you think he’d do this?”
Would he? Darren didn’t think his father was a homophobe, but what if Darren was wrong? Or what if he shared Peg’s view that Darren needed someone from the right family? “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Maybe?”
“After our trip, Darren’s dad sent him an email telling him to keep up the professionalism.”
“Did he explain what that meant?”
“No, but sleeping with Darren probably doesn’t count as being professional.”
It was too much of a coincidence for this not to be connected.
Nico sighed. “You should talk to Darren.”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t be stupid. You have to talk to him about this.”
Actually, it wasn’t so simple. “If I tell Darren, he’ll fight his dad for me.”
“Exactly why you need to tell him. He’s the one person who can fix this.”
“You don’t get it. He’d try, but we’ll both suffer. His father won’t listen to him. They barely speak to each other. You read the email. Jenkins said Josh Gage was seriously pissed when he heard I was seen kissing his son.”
“If he and Darren aren’t speaking, how did he know you were kissing?”
“I kissed him in his frat house and in the middle of campus on the walk back to our room.” So much for how great it was that Darren wasn’t afraid to be seen with him. “This is a lose-lose situation. If Darren talks to his dad, I’ll lose my scholarship for sure. If Darren pisses off his dad, who knows what he might do? I can’t be responsible for Darren getting cut off or for ruining any chance of a relationship with his dad.”
“You don’t think losing you will hurt him?” Nico said. Isaiah peered at him between his fingers. Nico frowned deeply.
Isaiah pushed upright again, fighting back the tears. “I’m a fool, Nico. I should never have pushed to get a chance at the Gage Scholarship.”
“You did the right thing.”
“No, I didn’t. But I will sure as hell do the right thing now.”
With trembling fingers, he took out his phone and typed Darren a reply.
Why had he ever bothered to dream? Josh Gage’s disapproval had been flashed in bold neon and he’d ignored it.
Josh didn’t want a gay son, and if he had to have one, he sure as fuck didn’t want Darren kissing a worthless nobody like Isaiah.
Isaiah: Sorry, I can’t make lunch. Something came up.
He hovered his thumb over the send button. He wanted Darren to wrap him in his arms, kiss him, and tell him they’d fix it together. If he asked, Darren might, too.
But he couldn’t . . . shouldn’t do that.
He hit send and turned off his phone.
This sucked shit enough without hearing how much he hurt Darren.
Nico put an arm around him, and Isaiah crumpled against his best friend and cried.
Chapter Twenty-One
Darren
Nothing.
He tossed his phone on the bed, next to a growing pile of textbooks he needed to read. Coach had chewed him out after a shit game because Darren had been so lethargic. No surprise. He’d barely eaten or slept in two days.
For the thousandth time, he unlocked his phone and read the last text Isaiah had sent. What had come up? How bad was it that he’d gone silent for three days?
What had he done wrong?
He wanted to throw up. Would have, if he’d eaten lunch. He needed to do something, but he was too anxious to focus. Besides, what could he do if Isaiah wouldn’t answer his texts, calls, emails?
Someone knocked. “Darren? It’s Jack. Can I come in?”
Didn’t everyone see he wanted to be left alone? He let out a frustrated, affirmative grunt.
The door crept open, and Jack poked his head inside. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Darren opened a book and avoided eye contact. Turning to a random page, he pretended to study.
Instead of leaving as Darren hoped, Jack stepped in and shut the door. “Okay, I know something’s wrong. I just don’t know what.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just tired.”
Jack spoke hesitantly. “Is everything okay with Isaiah?”
Darren jerked his head up from the pages he wasn’t reading. “Why? Did you hear something?”
Jack delivered Darren a pointed look.
Darren closed his eyes. “Fine. He stopped talking to me, okay? I have no clue why. I’ve called, texted, emailed, and he doesn’t answer. I keep trying, but I don’t know what’s going on.”
Jack perched on the end of Darren’s bed. “Slow down. Let’s start over. So you guys had a good weekend?”
Darren set the book aside. “It was a good weekend. We made plans for lunch Monday.”
“And he cancelled?”
“With a vague excuse. I wrote back and asked if I could help. My phone says he hasn’t read it. Or any of my other texts.” Or returned his calls or answered his emails. “I hope he’s okay.”
“I saw him today,” Jack said.
“You saw him?” Darren straightened. “Where was he? Did he say anything?”
Jack held up his hands. “Easy. Deep breaths.”
“Sorry.”
“I spotted him walking to class. He had his head down and didn’t stop when I called to him. He seemed kinda . . . off.”
So Isaiah was still on campus, but avoiding him? That didn’t make sense.
Jack rubbed his jaw in thought. “Has this got anything to do with the Gage Scholar competition?”
Darren’s gut churned. Isaiah hadn’t had it easy so far. It wouldn’t be the first time the competition had royally affected his mood. “It’s possible, but I can’t imagine what it would be. We haven’t any scheduled”—or mis-scheduled—“meetings. I wish he’d answer me.”
“Yep, been there, felt that. Ed wouldn’t return any of my messages either. Brittany went to see him in person.” Jack smirked. “Something I should have done myself.”
“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Thought the same thing. I was wrong.”
“This isn’t the same.”
“You’re right. I knew why Ed was upset. You don’t have a clue. More reason to go talk to him face-to-face.”
“You think?”
“There is no downside.” Jack pushed to his feet. “Worst thing that happens is you end up where you are now. What’s more likely to happen is you’ll figure it out.”
It made so much sense, but Darren didn’t want to know if it was over already. No, that wasn’t true. He did want to know; he was just afraid that’s what he’d hear.
“I hope it works out,” Jack said as he opened the door. “If you need to talk, let me know. I mean it.”
Darren
tucked his head. Normally he didn’t need anyone, but that was before he gave someone his heart.
“Hey, Jack?” Darren looked up and made eye contact with him. “Thanks.”
Jack flashed him a wide grin. “You betcha.”
Darren pulled open the side door and slipped into the mostly dark auditorium. According to the schedule Isaiah shared with the committee, he had a group practice class that began at six that was close to ending. Darren waited nervously, just out of sight.
Music poured from the stage, but Isaiah’s playing sounded off. Riddled with missed notes, and twice he changed the tempo before the others were ready.
“Jesus Christ, Isaiah,” a male shouted, bringing the playing to a halt. “That’s like the fifth time today you’ve fucked up. I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but fix it. Fast. We can’t afford a crap grade because you’re in some funk.”
“Lay off, Alan,” a female said. “We all have bad days.”
“Yeah,” another woman said. “You’re used to Isaiah keeping us on point. When he’s off it screws us up.”
“Why don’t you take a walk, Isaiah,” the first female said. “Clear your head, and we’ll try once more before we call it a night.”
“Sure.” Isaiah sounded so down, Darren’s chest ached.
Isaiah emerged from behind the stage curtains, and Darren stepped forward.
“Isaiah?”
A brief smile lit Isaiah’s face before darkening. Isaiah shook his head and pivoted away.
“Isaiah, please. Tell me what I did so I can fix it. Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”
Isaiah held up his left hand, but didn’t turn around. His voice was choked with emotion. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Darren darted forward and gently turned Isaiah to face him. “What’s wrong?”
Isaiah avoided eye contact.
Darren struggled to get his words out without choking. “I thought we were good together. If something happened, please tell me. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”
Isaiah’s shoulders drooped. “You can’t fix this. And I can’t . . . we can’t see each other anymore.”
Can’t? “Why can’t we?”
“Just let it go. Please?”
Darren stepped closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I can’t. I like you too much to walk away. Tell me what I did?”
“You didn’t do anything except be wonderful. But it’s silly to believe we can both compete for the same prize.”
“Please, Isaiah, we can work this out. I promise.”
Water fringed Isaiah’s eyes as he stared at Darren. “It’s more than just the Gage Scholar Program.”
“What do you mean, more?”
“They’re threatening to take my scholarship.”
Darren couldn’t have heard him correctly. It didn’t make sense. “It sounded like you said they threatened to take your scholarship?”
“Yes. Unless I stop seeing you.”
Darren blinked. He couldn’t grasp it. What the actual hell? “That’s bullshit! They can’t do that.”
“Yes, they can. Professor Linton talked to me about the terms of my scholarship. They don’t need to give me a reason; they can just not renew it.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would Linton want to do that to you?”
“Not him.” Isaiah exhaled, and Darren felt it tremble against his jaw. “Jenkins called Linton and told him.”
Darren clenched his teeth. Why did they fuck with Isaiah so much? They wanted to punish him for bringing to light the university’s sins.
Isaiah looked utterly defeated, and Darren tentatively reached out and drew him close. Isaiah made a feeble attempt to pull away.
“Isaiah,” Darren said gently.
Isaiah crumpled against him, all shuddering limbs.
Darren stroked his back.
“I’m sorry, Darren.” He sobbed onto his shoulder. “I want us to be together so bad, but . . . I can’t lose my scholarship.”
Darren tightened his hold. “It’s not your fault.”
Isaiah sniffed. “If I hadn’t filed that complaint . . .”
Darren drew Isaiah back just enough to look him in the eye. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind Isaiah’s ear. “If you hadn’t filed, I’d never have met you. Never have gotten the chance to know you. To kiss you.”
Isaiah’s lips wobbled like he was torn between a sob and a smile.
Darren dipped forward and kissed him gently. “Jenkins isn’t God. I know my dad isn’t the best person to ask for help, given how he feels about my being gay, but my grandfather is fine with it. And he’s still chairman—”
Isaiah pulled back and shook his head violently. “You can’t call your grandfather. Darren, please don’t get involved.”
“But this is absurd. What right does Jenkins have to keep us apart?”
Isaiah slammed his eyes shut. He spoke quietly, and it sent a chill through Darren. “It’s not Jenkins. He’s not the one who doesn’t want us together.”
“But you said he told Linton.”
“He did, but Jenkins was just passing along a message.”
“Then who?” Darren stumbled back. “No.”
It couldn’t be.
Isaiah
Had it been anyone else, Darren probably could have made it better. But this was Darren’s dad.
The ache in Darren’s words sliced into Isaiah. “Dad threatened to take your scholarship?”
“He called Jenkins and said if I didn’t stop dating you, he’d pull my scholarship. And I’m sure Jenkins was only too happy to help.”
Darren shook his head and balled his fists. “Why would he do this?”
“Come on, Darren. You’re a Gage. Even if he accepted you, I’m hardly good enough to be the one you . . . date.”
Darren stared into his eyes and spoke calmly. “You see me, Isaiah. You see me and not my name. You’re perfect.”
Isaiah’s chest somersaulted, and he wished he could cling to those beautiful words. But . . . “Your dad doesn’t agree.”
Darren took Isaiah’s hands. “I’ve got to go. But I mean it.” Darren pressed a warm kiss against Isaiah’s knuckles. “You are perfect.”
Isaiah stared after Darren as he spun on his heel and walked toward the exit.
“Darren! Wait!” He chased after Darren and tugged him around. “Where are you going?”
“To make sure they don’t hurt you ever again.” Darren eased his arm free and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darren
Darren hit disconnect before the recorded message finished. No surprise. Of course Dad didn’t pick up. If he wouldn’t take Darren’s calls before he’d threatened to destroy Isaiah’s life, he sure as shit wouldn’t now.
He expected as much.
He stormed down a quiet path that looped around the back of campus. The evening had a shivery bite to it. Just like his mood.
He called his mother.
“Hi sweetie,” she answered. “How are you?”
“I need to talk to Dad and as usual he won’t answer.”
“Oh, he’s working late—probably just busy. Did you leave him a message?”
“Mom, I really need to speak to him. Now. I’m in trouble, and I need his help.”
“Trouble?” He sensed her protective instinct kicking in. “What kind of trouble? What’s wrong?”
“It’s about school. I have to leave Harrison.”
“What?” Her voice took on her momma bear tone. “What’s wrong?”
“Please, Mom. Please get Dad to call me? Please?” The pain of losing Isaiah seeped into his voice.
“You can’t tell me?” He heard her, but he needed her to get his father. To do that he couldn’t tell her why.
“Dad’s the one who did this.”
“Did what?” He flinched at the palatable panic coming from her. “What did your father do?”
“Mom, I need you to get him to call me.”<
br />
“Okay. Okay.” The rushed words were followed by a deep breath. “Stay on the line.”
He left the path and walked through the square with the statue of Benjamin Harrison. Too many people milled about to stop. Beyond the open area, there were benches where he could sit. If no one was around.
“Darren?” His father’s deep voice jolted him. “What’s going on? Why is your mother hysterical?”
“I’m not hysterical, Josh,” his mom said. “I’m concerned.”
Darren took a deep breath and forced himself to say his piece. “I know you don’t want me around anymore, but did you have to ruin my happiness to prove your point? Ignoring me wasn’t enough?”
“What? If you pulled me out of an important meeting for a game—”
“It’s not a game, Dad. I’m leaving Harrison, so you can call off your goon, Jenkins.”
His dad’s voice took on a quieter pitch. “What do you mean, you’re leaving school?”
“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. I wanted to prove I wasn’t. Wanted to win the Gage Scholar position because I know how much it means to our family—to you, Dad. But not like this. I won’t let you hurt Isaiah because you disapprove of me being gay.”
“Darren Josiah Gage, what are you talking about?” His dad’s yell forced Darren to pull the phone away.
“Josh, calm down,” his mom said in the background. “Yelling won’t help.”
“He’s talking nonsense.”
Nonsense? Darren scoffed. “You said you’d take away Isaiah’s scholarship unless he stopped seeing me.”
“What? Of course he has to see you. You’re both in the program.”
Darren halted in the middle of a quiet grassy area. His shoes sank into the soft ground, much like the dread sinking his gut. He and Dad might be on the outs, but he knew his father well enough to recognize his confusion wasn’t an act.
He had no idea what Darren was talking about.
“What do you mean seeing?” Dad added uncertainly.
“He means dating,” Mom said.
“What? Okay, one bombshell at a time.” He could hear his father exhaling. “Darren, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
