Chapter Seven: Skipping Out

“Nice angel,” Jake said, of the carved Abraham sacrificing Isaac statue we kept on our fireplace mantle. Although a wooden statue is probably not the best object to have over a fireplace, nothing, knock on wood, has happened to it yet.

“Hmm?” Landen replied. “Oh, archangel, actually. Metatron to be exact. He wrestled Jacob, led the Jews through the wilderness, and stayed Abraham’s hand,” Landen said, nodding to the statue.

“Landen carved it for Christmas one year,” I boasted. Landen smiled shyly.

“It’s beautiful.” Jake ran his fingers over the archangel’s wing span. “Cherry?”

“Yeah,” Landen answered. “How’d you know? I don’t see you as woody type of person.” I stifled a laugh.

“Boy Scouts carving merit badge. I know a thing or two about woods.”

“I bet you do, at that,” I replied, not able to help myself.


“I could never make anything this beautiful, though,” Jake continued, either not getting or choosing to ignore my comment.

“So, that’s the house,” Landen said, sweeping his arms broadly. He clearly got the jab and was quickly trying to change the subject.

“It’s awesome,” Jake replied. “I especially like the two treadmills next to each other in the basement.”

“Like that, do you?” Landen gave a little laugh. “It’s easier to run together.”

“When we actually have time to run together,” I said, finishing the sentence.

“See, I don’t picture you running,” Jake said.

Landen and I both looked at each other. Our eyebrows raised in unison.

“I see Landen running,” he began to explain. “But Bannon, you’re just, that is, you don’t seem…”

“Now this is where you have to be careful what you say,” I told him.

Jake suddenly turned a shade of red that I didn’t think was possible in humans. “Well, I, oh, I didn’t, well, it’s just…”

“Yes,” I asked.

“Bannon,” Landen said softly. “You’re frightening the poor boy.”

I smirked slightly.

“No, it’s just that Landen seems more athletically conscience than you do.”

“And what does that mean?” I asked.

“Well, he’s just…”

“Uber-butch?” I finished the sentence after a brief pause.

“I didn’t say that,” Jake quickly retorted.

“No,” I conceded. “But you wanted to.”

“No,” Jake assured me.

“It’s ok,” I said. “He is uber-butch. And I’m beyond nelly.”

“Don’t go there, Ban,” Landen whispered to me.

“What?” Jake asked, obviously very confused.

“Don’t you worry,” I assured him. “We’ll teach everything you need to know.”

“About what?” Jake questioned.

“About being…” I paused. “You know.”

“Bannon,” Landen said, almost sternly. “What?” I mouthed him.

“Someone had to brooch the topic,” I finally said after a brief pause from all three of us.

“Bannon is under a certain impression of you,” Landen explained.

“And what is that?” Jake asked, knowingly.

“Well, he thinks,” Landen began, carefully placing each word. Jake simply looked at him.

“Oh, we’re all family here,” I finally said. “I think you’re gay.” Landen looked as if he was trying to distance himself from my thoughts. His eyes were closed and his head was slightly turned away.

“And what would possibly make you think that?” Jake asked, after a brief pause.

“Well, is it true?” I replied. There was a pause.

Jake looked at Landen, who smiled warmly back. Jake turned and looked at me. “Maybe,” Jake finally said. “Not that it’s any of your business.” Jake seemed slightly angered.

“It isn’t our business,” Landen said, “you’re right.”

“We’re just concerned,” I added.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re concerned,” Jake said, sharply. “It sounds gossipy. Did someone out you?”

“First of all,” I began, very defensively.

“Ban,” Landen stopped me sternly. He spoke to Jake much more lovingly. “We’re not trying to get gossip from you, Jake. But we are concerned.”

“Why?” Jake snapped back.

“Because we’ve, well, if you are gay, we’ve been there.” Landen explained. “We know what you’re going through. We know all about the loneliness and isolation and despair and self-hatred that you’re probably feeling.”

“Well, I’m not feeling any of that,” Jake replied. “So thanks for the concern, but no thanks. I don’t need it.”

“That didn’t answer…”

“Leave it, Ban,” Landen calmly said to me.

“And what gives you the right to talk to someone like that?”

“What?” I asked.

“You just say whatever you want? Whenever you want?” Jake was speaking firmly, bordering on anger. “You don’t care about how you make other people feel, do you? Just as long as Bannon gets what he wants out of it, right?”

“Jake,” Landen remained very calm.

“What?”

“Bannon didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you upset.” Landen explained. “He only wanted to know.”

“Why does it matter?” Jake asked. “Who cares who I’m attracted to or want to sleep with or jack off to? Who fucking cares?”

“We do.” It came out of my mouth very calmly and, if I must say, very concerning.

“Why?” Jake was very defensive. “So you can tell all your little gay friends?”

“Yes,” I replied sardonically, “because that’s all we talk about.”

“Bannon,” Landen’s voice was stern. I looked at him and his eyes looked differently than I had ever noticed them. They were imploring. He turned and looked at Jake. “We’re not the enemies here.”

There was a long pause.

“I know,” Jake finally said. “I just was expecting to be outed. How could you ever know that? I never told anyone. No one. How could you know? I just served you coffee last week.”

“Did you tell yourself?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s enough, sometimes,” I replied. “And we didn’t out you. I simply asked you a question. A questioned that would have been answered around two people that are obviously gay. We won’t tell anyone.”

“Never thought you would,” Jake said. Landen put his arm around Jake and led him into the living room. Landen and I sat on the couch while Jake sat on one of the other chairs. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Landen asked.

“Snapping, getting angry, yelling, take your pick.”

“It’s cool,” I answered.

“Bannon can be uncouth at times,” Landen explained. “He doesn’t always know or respect boundaries.”

“Sitting right here,” I commented.

“Is…is that why you ‘bought’ me?” Jaked asked. “Because I’m…gay?”

“Partly,” Landen answered. I was nodding my head.

“So you weren’t really interested in making me do anything?”

I laughed. Landen shot me a glance and replied, “Well, if it isn’t going to be a problem, we’d still like you to do some stuff for us. We did pay five hundred dollars for you.”

“I guess I can still work for you,” Jake answered. “Do you think other people know?”

“I’m sure some do,” Landen responded.

“Does it matter?” I asked.

Jake looked at me. “I don’t know,” he finally replied. “I guess not. Maybe. I’m still in high school, people aren’t necessarily forgiving of that.”

“Some are. Those who really care about you probably don’t care,” Landen assured him.

“And they probably already know,” I added.

“Really?”

“You’d be surprised who already knows,” I told him.

“I’ve barely told myself,” Jake said, seemingly more to himself than to Landen or I
. “Why did you really ask me?”

“What?” Landen and I asked in unison.

“Why did you really ask me?” Jake repeated. “What purpose could it serve either of you?”

“It doesn’t serve us any purpose,” Landen assured him.

“You were willing to pay five hundred dollars for me.”

“Well,” Landen began, “Bannon was willing to pay five hundred dollars for you.”

“Huh?” Jake asked confused. “So you didn’t really want me.”

“I don’t necessarily view things the same way as Bannon,” Landen explained. “He saw a greater purpose to buying your services…”

“That sounds dirty,” Jake interjected.

“We’re aware of that,” Landen replied, and continued. “But we were willing to give five hundred dollars to a worthy cause, possibly provide you with, I don’t know, some support or something, and show you that you’re not alone.”

“And beat Adam,” I threw in.

“And beat Adam,” Landen concurred.

Jake laughed for the first time since I asked him if he was gay. “Yeah, he can be a dick.”

Landen and I chuckled. “That he can be,” Landen replied.

“I don’t want this.” Jake said after a long pause. He was looking down.

“Few of us did,” Landen answered.

“But we have it,” I continued. “And it’s not really our choice.”

“I spent years trying to deny it, trying to push it down, trying, I don’t know, something.”

“I’d imagine that almost every gay man or woman has been there at some point,” Landen promised him.

“Now it’s just up to you to figure out what you’re going to do with it,” I told Jake.

“What do you mean?”

Well, a lot of gay people, gay men specifically,” Landen began explaining, “never really accept it and as a result spend their lives in misery because they’re denying who they really are and the way God made them.”

“And the others?” Jake sounded worried.

“We’re happy.” Landen instinctively held my hand as I said this.

“It’s not an easy road,” Landen continued. “Although once you’ve really admitted it to yourself, I think it gets easier.”

“But I have to tell others?”

“Usually,” Landen said, smiling.

“What if people stop talking to me? Or beat me up or worse?”

“That’s part of the burden, unfortunately,” I told him. “It’s so worth it, even to deal with those few people. And for the record, I never got beat up.”

“But people stopped talking to you?” Jake asked.

“No, not really,” I said. Landen shrugged in agreement.

There was a long time where Jake simply looked down at the rug. I shot Landen a glance, and tilted my head at the floor to see if I could find what he was looking at.

“What about my parents?”

“I wouldn’t worry about them,” Landen told him, “at least not yet. If you don’t think they know, I would wait until you’re a little more comfortable. With yourself, and with telling people.”

“Maybe you could tell them.” Jake looked in our eyes.

“No,” Landen quickly said. “That’s not something for us to tell.”

“No one can give you that courage,” I told him. “No one can thicken your skin. That’s all up to you, but I wouldn’t worry about it, at least not yet.”

Shoned bounced into the room with a ball in her mouth. She vigorously shook her head back and forth. She dropped the ball at Jake’s feet and gave a little purrish yodel.

“She wants to play ball with you,” Landen told him.

“I figured as much,” Jake replied, reaching his right hand down to grab the ball.

“She doesn’t play ball with anyone but us,” I said. “It’s quite the compliment.”

“I didn’t realize dogs could be that picky,” Jake responded standing up.

“She lives with two gay men,” I explained. “She’s been raised to be picky.” Landen laughed and Jake smiled.

“You wanna play ball?” Jake looked down at Shoned. She hopped around his legs as he walked through the kitchen and out the back door.

“Well that worked rather well,” I said to Landen. He shook his head at me. “What?”

“You just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?” He replied with a smile.

“You never usually complain,” I said, leaning forward and kissing him. I winked and turned towards the back door. He smacked my butt as I walked away. I didn’t look back, I knew he was smiling and shaking his head.