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Chapter 5 - A Compound in One
Rian lay eyes wide open in the cool darkness of his bedroom. He rolled toward his nightstand and stared at the clock. The muted red-orange numbers glowed 4:00 a.m. He'd felt so warm, so good with Dylen a few hours earlier; now he was gripped by cold - - remorse, guilt, betrayal. He hadn't experienced a night like this since he received Brock's last letter, the day after the funeral. On the surface, Rian liked to think he was finished with this. He'd buried everything about that week as deep as he could. There were a few moments when he hadn't been able to cope, but not recently. Even his nightmares ended six weeks ago. But now, since Dylen's return to his life, Rian's soul was twisted by conflict. He'd been able to ignore it for a while. But now . . . he didn't think he could take this much longer.
Rian rolled out of bed and turned on the lights. He picked up the picture of Brock on his desk. 'Why can't I just tell Dylen the truth,' he thought. Seemingly in response, he started to relive it again. A phone message long ignored that was finally heard. . . Driving through the quicksand of the crowded beltway. . . Opening Brock's bedroom door. . . The mattress . . . The smell of death. Rian nearly yelled as the once exorcized memories reared their face again. 'Just leave me the fuck alone,' he shouted at the demon in his mind.
Rian grabbed a pair of shorts and almost ran for the stairway door. He wasn't going to relive that, not again. He bounded down the stairs, running to the only place he ever found an escape. So many times since he discovered he was gay, he'd fled here, to the one thing he felt he could always control, to the place he could excise his mental pain. Rian flew into the gym. He turned on every light he could find. Fumbling, he cranked up his 30 Seconds to Mars CD as loud as the soundproofing in the walls could handle. 'The End of the Beginning' roared from the speakers. The thumping bass was so strong it shook his whole body. He dove for the middle dumbbell rack. He grabbed a pair of 60's, focused on his reflection in the mirror, and started to slam shoulder presses. He tried to lose himself, to lose the torturing tangle of feelings that gnawed away at him.
Rian couldn't count the number of times his mind wandered back to those pictures upstairs. He lost count of his reps, even how many sets he did. And every time he realized he was thinking about Dylen and Brock, he lifted heavier and harder. Within a few minutes, fueled by adrenaline and anger and heartache, he zoned to a place few ever go. Rian's muscles shrieked in agony as he forced them to tear through their normal limits. Sweat poured across his chiseled body, through the valley between his pecs, filling the gaps between his abs, dripping from every angle to the floor. His blond hair soaked through and stuck in tight twists to his head. The bars rubbed his long calloused hands raw, ready to bleed. Curls, presses, extensions -- he slammed set after set, harder and harder. But it did no good. The demon had at last followed him here. It would give him no refuge.
For two hours Rian continued mutilating his arms and shoulders. Finally, when his hands were so raw and sore that he couldn't pick up a dumbbell, he decided to go back to Boulder. He pulled on a shirt, grabbed a few things from his room, and loaded them in his car. He recklessly sped as fast as he as could, making it back to the freeway in record time. Hard, loud music poured from the speakers as he drove his spotless classic faster and faster. Even through the beltway's mounting rush hour, he pulled everything he could out of the Corvette's engine. But, as he merged toward the Boulder Turnpike, the adrenaline-fueled anger faded to the same profound sadness he felt all night.
Now calmer, Rian decided to make the stop before he got to his apartment. Maybe there was an answer there. He was able to turn around without much difficulty, and began making his way to Littleton. On the way, Rian found an open florist and bought a single red rose. He would not think of going to the cemetery without it. He made slow, but descent time through downtown, all the while thinking about what he might say when he arrived.
Rian had made this trip a few times since the funeral, but even if he hadn't, the first one was physically seared into his brain. He took turn after turn, winding toward what would otherwise be a tranquil area in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a beautiful, warm morning, just as the brilliant sunset the night before portended. But, no matter how much sun, how much warmth, was available this place was always overshadowed by gloom. As Rian made the final turn into the open cemetery gates, gloom was all he felt.
Rian drove to the spot where he parked as a pall bearer four months prior and got out of his car. His energy was draining fast, sapped as much by the hollow of this place as by his sleepless night and overworked muscles. He staggered up to the slightly raised dome of earth, the covered hole into which he shed so many private tears.
The bright morning sun illuminated the spot where the grave lay. It was quiet, near a large oak tree that shaded the spot in the afternoon. A sealed white marble stone was at the head. It was beautifully carved with two soaring birds with etched ribbons flowing around them. But, also cut in the smooth face of the stone, were the ugliest words Rian had ever seen:
Brock Aaron Lassiter September 24, 1984 - February 17, 2004 We Will Never Forget You
Tears were already fogging Rian's sight as he looked at it. After a few moments of silence, he scanned the area and found himself alone. This was something he wanted no one to hear.
Slowly, his rich voice broken with pain, Rian's began to speak. "Hi Brock. I . . . I don't know why I came here. It just felt like I needed to come somehow. I, ah, mean I know that you're not really here. I hope that wherever you are, it's that better place you wanted. Where you can finally be happy. I . . . I . . .," Rian stumbled to find the words. Then, like a fountain, they spilled out, "I think I've found someone. The one you told me to find. He's so much like you. Sweet, innocent, smart just like you. Funny thing is I've always known him. I feel so good, so loved around him. Ahhh . ." Rian sniffed back the conflicting emotions. "He makes me smile. I know you always said I should smile more.
"Your dad sent me some stuff for Bryce, and I thought I'd take Dylen. Oh. That's his name. I know -- I know it was our spot. I hope you won't hate me. It just feels so right to take him there. I feel like soaring when I'm with him. So much like I do . . . did with you. I just . . . ." Rian broke down in anguish, audibly sobbing. "Please tell me that you don't hate me. Please tell me you forgive me. Please tell me I can . . . love . . . someone else."
Rian's words trailed off to silence. The only sound was the soft splash of Rian's heart spilling on the ground. He wished -- he wished so hard -- that he could hear Brock once more. That he could hear those words that he craved. That he could be forgiven for what he did. That he had Brock's blessing to go on. But, all he felt was emptiness. Rian gently touched the headstone. A few days ago, Dylen off-handedly told him about angels, how they sometimes spoke to people. Right now, Rian would have sold what was left of his soul for a chance to hear the angel he knew Brock had become. He knelt down and placed the rose on the wide lip of the stone's pedestal. Rian lingered for a moment before he stumbled back to his car and began the long drive to his apartment.
'I just can't believe them,' Dylen thought as he slipped on his favorite new shirt. On their way home from watching the sunset, Rian made him promise not to open the boxes and card until Saturday morning. He tried, but Dylen could never resist the temptation to open gifts. He made it a couple of hours before he tore into them.
Dylen, having reached the age where good stuff was in cards, decided to open it first. Outside, it was a typical graduation card, but it was unusually heavy. Some common words about how proud he should be were printed on the outside. However, he'd never received anything like what was inside. The left flap was signed by Kevin and Lacy with the caption "You deserve some fun. Don't spend it all in one place." On the right side there was a small silver metal bookmark. It was engraved with an eagle and a quote from Helen Keller: "One cannot consent to creep when one has an impulse to soar." Behind the bookmark was a check for 1000 dollars.
After what was in the card, Dylen couldn't imagine that there would be very much in the boxes. From the size and weight, they were obviously clothing boxes. But those expectations dissolved when he tore open the wrappings. The clothes were top of the line, from stores Dylen could rarely afford to walk into. Every size and measurement was a spot on match. He opened all four boxes in tears. The previous night he'd come to think of the May's as family, but his own real family would never do this. When he finished he had four shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a pair of slacks and a dress shirt that fit so well and looked so good Dylen swore they were custom.
As Dylen combed his mop of hair, he said goodbye to reflection in the mirror. He felt energized in a way he hadn't for a long, long time. The day, the bookmark, the gifts -- but most of all Rian -- made him think long and hard. Gnothi Seauton. Whatever his ultimate choices might be, whatever life held in store, it was time he finally got to know himself. It was time to start facing who he was and what he wanted.
Dylen glanced at the clock. 8:45 am. He needed to arrange a few things before graduation practice. Dylen sat at his computer, dialed up the internet, and wrote out a couple of phone numbers. He then grabbed the May's card and his valedictory speech and quickly took the stairs.
Dylen's mom was still in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast. He stuck his head in the door to see her washing dishes. "Hey, Mom, I'm leaving for practice. I doubt I'll be home until dinner."
Kathi heard Dylen come down the stairs, and was a little surprised. She knew that Dylen wasn't going to the May's this morning and practice wasn't until noon. She turned around and said, "Dylen. You've got three hours before you need to be in Fort Collins. And -" She stopped as she saw Dylen's new clothes. They were really nice. "Where did those come from?"
Dylen was so excited over what he was planning that he became a little impatient. "Rian's parents. They bought me some clothes for graduation. Look, I did something to my speech last night, and I've gotta show it to the principal before practice. I'll be home for dinner. Love ya." And with that, Dylen was out the door.
"But," Kathi said to the now empty air. She wondered what could have gotten her son this excited. Surely, he couldn't know what was coming.
As she turned back to her dishes, she began to review what was happening this weekend. All of her family lived nearby and would be coming for Dylen's graduation dinner. Most of Paul's family was coming also. Even his parents and brothers in Salt Lake and Provo were coming. But, there was a reason beyond Dylen's graduation that was drawing the men of the family here. The stake president approached Paul about it at high council meeting last month. It was a bit unusual to organize this sort of thing before an interview had taken place and Paul raised the question. President Sorensen replied that he knew Dylen and the interviews were merely a formality. He said he would have done it before now, given Dylen's maturity, but the handbook required Dylen to graduate high school first. 'Graduation and ordination,' Kathi thought. She wondered how Dylen would react.
Dylen was in his car speeding down the road that no longer felt quite so confining. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed one of the number's he'd written down. "Hello. This is Cindy. May I help you?"
"I wanted to see I could get an appointment for late this morning or this afternoon?"
"Hmmm. That's gonna be tough. Do you want someone in particular?"
"No, whoever is available will be fine."
"OK. You're lucky. I've got a cancellation for an appointment at 3 o'clock with Glen. Is that OK?"
"Sure."
"And your name?"
"Dylen Mason"
"And what will we be doing for you Mr. Mason?"
"I don't know really. I'm ready for something new. Thought I'd see what you guys suggest."
"Ah. A trusting soul. But, I don't think you'll be disappointed."
"OK. 3 o'clock it is. Thanks a lot."
"Thank You, Mr. Mason. Goodbye." Dylen closed his phone. He had a couple of shopping stops to make before practice. An infectious smile graced his lips. Why he was so energized he did not know. Maybe it was the thought of finally getting a grip on this thing, one way or the other.
A beautiful sunrise and the promise of a fantastic late spring day heralded the arrival of Dylen's graduation day. It was much the same as the previous morning, only this one's beauty invigorated Rian. A cloud seemed to follow him all day Friday. When he got to his apartment, he pulled out the letter. He read it over and over, searching for anything that would make him feel better. The words were there but the feelings weren't. Now, a few hours later on the freeway to CSU, anticipation clung to him as closely as sadness had earlier. He winced a little as he moved around, the pain of healing muscles reminding of yesterday's stupidity in the gym. But, he was happy to endure it now. It was so weird, Rian thought, how his mood could totally reverse just on the prospect of seeing Dylen. He wasn't sure, but something in his gut said today was going to be special.
About an hour after leaving his apartment, Rian pulled into the CSU campus parking lot designated for graduation guests. A mixed group of all ages ambled across the lot toward Moby arena. But, as Rian pulled in, it seemed like the whole throng paused to look at him. For Dylen's special day, he dressed in some of his very best, a crisp dark green collared shirt and black slacks, both perfectly pressed and meticulously well fitted to his muscular frame. Strikingly handsome, impeccable dressed, driving a top-down, classic convertible -- Rian looked more like a young movie star than a college kid.
The May's had agreed to meet in front of the arena before they took their seats. And though it was crowded, Kevin May was a hard man to miss. So, Rian had no problem in locating them. As he made his way toward his parents, he noticed Paul and Kathi Mason conversing with them.
"You didn't have to go to all that trouble." Paul told Kevin.
"It wasn't that much really. It was mostly Rian's idea anyway. He's taken quite a shine for Dylen, and with his depression or whatever, he wanted to do something special for him." Kevin replied.
"Dylen really is a wonderful man. And I'm not just saying that because he's your son. I was just as excited shopping for him as Rian was." Lacy said, starting to chuckle. "The way he looked this morning, you're going to have to help him fight off marriage proposals."
"Well, when he came home last night . . ." Kathi began, but stopped. Rian had finally been noticed. Lacy walked up and hugged her son, much to the envy of the assembled females. Rian exchanged greetings with his father and the Mason's, who looked at him with a mixture of thanks and awe. He'd clearly done something, but Rian couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe, it was the presents, he thought.
"We were just telling your folks how excited Dylen is that you came. Most of our family is here, but I think you're being here means just as much to him." Paul said. He walked closer to the younger man and lowered his voice. "I don't know what you told him, what you're doing for him, but . . . Well, you'll see. You always have been the best friend my son could hope to have."
'What's going on,' Rian thought. 'I didn't think I'd done anything, yet.'
Before Rian could reply, Kathi interjected, "Dylen was up here looking of you a few minutes ago. They just called all the seniors around that corner to line up. I bet there's still time enough to catch him if you hurry." Rian looked around and saw a few gowned stragglers moving around the building.
As Rian started to follow them, Kevin spoke up from behind, "We saved some seats a few rows down from the door along the aisle. You can't miss us."
Once Rian was out of earshot, Kathi began speaking again. "Lacy, Kevin. When Dylen came in the door, I swear, it was like he was someone I've never seen before."
Rian knew he only had a few minutes before the processional would begin. He hoped he could find Dylen quickly. But, as he rounded the building, those hopes were dashed. Rian walked into a sea of robed clones. They bounced like billiard balls from one laughing conversation to the next. Trying to coral the horde were several faculty members, but they weren't making much headway. Rian remembered this same scene when he graduated, and figured the chances of finding Dylen were next to zero. As he was about to return to his parents, Rian noticed one of the throng wearing a large yellow sash emblazoned with a crest. An honor graduate. Rian kicked himself for not remembering that Dylen would be wearing one of those colored sashes. He started to walk around the periphery of the crowd, looking at each person with an honors sash but with no luck. It was as if Dylen had disappeared.
Then, a loud hollow thump signaled the opening of one of the arena doors. Most everyone turned to the sound and saw a small group of people emerge. Rian recognized the school principal in his doctoral puff hat and gown, and he guessed the others were the superintendent and school board. Following behind this group were two students. Rian didn't recognize either of them at first. The first student was a girl dressed like the other students with honors. The person following her was a well-dressed, clean cut guy carrying all of his regalia draped across his arm. Rian was too far away to see the person clearly, but there was something familiar about him. He took a couple of steps toward the person before he saw it. The clothes the guy was wearing. He bought those clothes for Dylen. Rian's feet riveted to the ground as Dylen continued to approach him . . . only it wasn't the Dylen he'd come to know in the last few weeks.
Rian's first reaction was that someone waved a magic wand and replaced the old Dylen with the one straight out of his dreams. As he draped his gown across his shoulders, Rian thought Dylen was actually glowing. The mop of unkempt long hair was gone, and in its place was a short, spike-teased style that looked like it was straight out of GQ. With the new haircut, Dylen's quickly maturing, handsome features matched his haunting eyes. His dark tan and sun bleaching made him looked like a poster for vibrancy and life. Dylen turned to speak to someone and smiled. Someone must have said something about his appearance because Rian could see the blush from his yards distant perch. Rian swallowed, his stomach turning somersaults . . . Dylen was hot, damned hot. 'No,' Rian thought, 'He's gorgeous.'
Dylen was still trying to dress himself, but there were too many things in his hands. He was getting frustrated when he noticed Rian, frozen, staring at him. He hadn't seen Rian dressed this way before. Dylen couldn't remember seeing anyone so beautiful in his life, and he felt that electric spark of arousal hit him hard. But even electric than the spark was the longing of his heart to be with the man that - maybe -- he loved.
Dylen seemed to float to where Rian was standing. For a moment, both of them stood there looking at each other, speechless. They both were feeling the same thing, but were afraid to admit it. Dylen finally willed his voice box to operate. "Ah, hi. I hate wearing this stuff. Makes me feel like an overdressed choir boy." He tried to reach for Rian's hand, but was defeated by his half-worn gown. Dylen started fumbling and then giggled at his predicament. The nervous laugh finally drained the tension between them, and they both cracked up.
Rian reached out and offered to take possession of the cap and sash. Rian couldn't help but ask, "What happened to you? You look fantastic."
Dylen cheeks reddened again with the complement. "Well, you've started to help me change my outside into something I've always wanted. I just thought I'd help things along as much as I could." He smiled, knowing that there was more to it. Seeing that smile up close, Rian felt his stomach flip again. Dylen's tone changed from one of light- heartedness to introspection. "I don't know if I can explain really. It's just that--"
Dylen was interrupted by a whine of static and a yell from a portable loudspeaker, "Graduates need to get in line now. Five minutes to the processional."
After hearing the announcement, Dylen hurriedly finished dressing. "I can't tell you now, not in front of all these people. Listen, my family wants to take pictures afterward by the trees at the Lagoon." Dylen's pleaded as he looked into Rian's eyes, "Come find me." Rian agreed with a silent shake of his head, and Dylen trotted toward his place in line. Rian remained fixed, his legs unwilling to move. He stood watching Dylen as the principal came over to speak to him.
The metal doors opened again, and the long line began to move. Rian tore himself away, running as best he could back to find where his parents were sitting. But most of the graduates were on the arena floor before Rian slid into the empty seat next to his mother. She whispered in his ear, "I was afraid you'd gotten lost. Did you find him?"
Rian managed an exasperated, "Oh yeah." He then said almost inaudibly,"He wonderful."
Lacy stared at her son for a moment before looking forward. 'Is this what I think it is,' she thought. She pushed aside the realization for a moment as the program began. The principal and the superintendent stood and offered short speeches of congratulations. Then the principal introduced Dylen to make his speech.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, teachers and administrators, family and friends. But most of important of all -- good morning to the class of 2004. To you, my friends and fellow classmates I say, WE FINALLY MADE IT." The black shrouded mass of graduates yelled a massive cheer of celebration.
"It cost us a lot of sweat, hard work, laughter, and tears, but today we're going to graduate. Congratulations to us all. And on behalf of all the class of 2004, I want to express my personal gratitude and deepest thanks to those of you who helped us get here. To our teachers, families, and friends -- to those who have helped us, supported us, taught us. You've stood with us through the great times and the bad times. We love you and will forever be in your debt." Dylen stopped and clapped, allowing all assembled to give an audible show of thanks.
Dylen then focused on a spot in the crowd. It was an often used trick for nervous public speakers, but nerves had nothing to do with it. Dylen had been speaking to groups since he was ten years old. It took a while for him to find Rian in the crowd, but there he was just a couple of rows up from his own parents. As best he could without being too obvious, he started speaking to the man he secretly loved. "I hope that you will permit share something personal. I wrote a speech for this occasion several weeks ago. That speech was a few hollow words about how far we've come as a class. But the more I read over it, the more I came to realize it wasn't from the heart. It wasn't inspiring to me, and I doubt that it would have been inspiring to you. Well, two weeks ago I was in a minor car accident. I won't bore you with the details, but because of this accident, I was able to relocate a close friend I had mostly lost touch with. Since then, our friendship has grown better and stronger than it ever was before. Just a couple of days ago, my friend taught me a great lesson. Something that I believe applies not just to us graduates, but to every person in this room and beyond.
"Even though we are all from different backgrounds and experiences, we are all united in one fundamental way. We are all facing the future. When we leave this place, we will embark on that future in a unique, personal way. When you think about it, we have thousands of different paths we might follow, and those decisions will shape the rest of our lives. Some paths are wide and easy to follow. Others are seldom-used, sparse tangles of difficulty and great trial. For those of us in the class of 2004, our paths have mostly been chosen by those who are with us today. They've guided us well. They've been able to shield us from some of the difficult paths we might have trod, but that time is almost over.
"In the last few months, I have to tell you, I've been more than a little frightened by this. As I look to the future, every path I see looks like a hard, thorny one. If you think about it, I'm sure each one of us has been scared as we face choices and consequences we know will be hard. Where do we begin, how do we begin, to face them? I've struggled with that question for a long time, but my friend gave me the answer. It isn't an easy answer, but it's not an easy question. At the entrance to the Temple of Apollo in the ancient Greek city of Delphi were two words. In Greek, they were Gnothi Seauton. In English, they are 'Know Thyself.' Knowing yourself is the key to making the right choice and self-knowledge begins with two questions: 'Who are you?' and 'What do you want?'
"How we answer these two questions will dictate our lives, for good or ill. I can tell you, honestly, that right now as I stand here, I can't answer them. But, I have to try, and so do you. Our future, our happiness depends on it. So, I challenge all of us to take this chance we've been given to look into ourselves. Graduation is the close of an old, comfortable chapter in our lives and the opening of a new chapter filled with excitements and perils. Now, as we start this new chapter, is the best time we will ever have to know ourselves, to find out who we are and what we want. Before we choose a path to the future, we must make sure it is the one that will fulfill the promise that is our birthright as human beings."
Then, though they were separated by dozens of yards, Dylen's eyes drilled into Rian's. "Helen Keller said, 'One cannot consent to creep, when one feels compelled to soar.' I know that all of us here today feel the urge, the compulsion to soar into the future. To soar down the path that will lead us to happiness and peace. No matter if that path is wide and clear, or narrow and treacherous, I hope that we can soar to the future together. Sometime, perhaps a few months from now or many years from now, we will see each other again. When we do, may we find that each of us knows who we are and what we want, and that the paths we have chosen helped us live up to our limitless potential. Gnothi Seauton.
"Thank you very much."
Dylen turned around and returned to his podium seat. There was polite applause, the amount most valedictory speeches received from people who are anxious to get their diplomas. But everyone did applaud - except Rian. He was absolutely still and pale, as if he'd been touched by a specter from beyond. 'How could he know,' Rian thought. 'How could he possibly know what he said?' Rian never gave any real hope of hearing from an angel. He thought it was a dream. But, now, that was the only explanation. Dylen had looked straight at him, like he was peering into his most hidden desires and pains. The words pierced him has easily and thoroughly as any bullet could. They were forever locked in his heart. An angel, his angel, had spoken.
Lacy turned slightly to see why here son was so quiet. She, like much of the audience, was a little perplexed by the speech. It really didn't sound like Dylen's words. She was lucky enough to at least understand the outward story Dylen told. She knew about the accident, the friend, where the quotes came from. But, there was an undercurrent, a hidden meaning, something Lacy didn't think she, or anyone else, was supposed to understand. Then, she saw the reaction from her son. She recognized the look from a few months ago. 'Oh my God,' she thought, 'it all makes sense now.' She leaned over, and whispered quietly in Rian's ear, "Was he talking about you?"
Rian understood what she was really getting at. After a long pause, Rian responded with one word. "Yes."
"Does he know?"
"No."
"He hasn't told you either, has he?"
"No."
Lacy grabbed her son's large hand in her own and rested her head on his broad shoulder. She pulled as close as she could to him, hoping that her love would help him though this. This was going to be painful for both of them. Dylen communicated he knew it would be. Even so, she could only guess at the agony he was going through. She could guess how his family, his parents, would react. She promised herself that when that time came, she be there for both of them. She had come to love them too much not to be. She hoped, she prayed, that this would end better than she foresaw.
The ceremony concluded with a roar and a toss of black caps. The audience devolved into small cliques, almost breaking down the doors to get out and find their own special person. Rian was definitely impatient to be one of them. After what he'd heard and felt, all he wanted to do was run up and kiss Dylen passionately. But, his mother insisted they remain seated for a few minutes. She told Rian he needed to give Dylen some time with his family, and Rian knew she was right. He waited for some of the longest minutes he'd ever experienced, before his parents finally moved to the door.
As they exited, the May's made their way toward the spot on the Lagoon Dylen indicated. With some time under his belt, Rian curbed his first impulses. Still, Dylen had to be the one. There was only one question left, how to tell him. By the time Rian saw the large assembly of Masons, it was clear that the picture taking was over. The group was mostly ambling about, sharing apparently pleasant conversation. Dylen was talking with the others, but Rian noticed he was looking around. He had shed his cap and gown, revealing the glowing angel Rian saw before the ceremony.
The May's were about 20 yards away when Dylen spotted Rian coming across the grass. Dylen quickly excused himself from his family. As soon as Dylen reached them, there were warm congratulations all around, including a long, tight hug from Lacy. But after a few pleasant moments together, Dylen and Rian started walking off together. Before Kevin could ask where they were going, Lacy touched her husband on the arm and said quietly, "Let them go." And she began to relate the substance of what she learned.
As soon as they were out of hearing range, Rian looked at his younger companion. "Dylen, I don't know what to say."
Dylen looked into Rian's eyes. Rian saw the longing there, the longing he hoped he understood, the longing he shared. "I don't know if I can either . . ." Dylen let out a long sigh, "I need you help."
"You know I'll help you do anything." Rian said immediately.
"No, hear me out first." Dylen made his way toward a relatively quiet area across the street where mostly empty dorms stood sentinel. They found a spot between buildings, where they could have some privacy. "Since Thursday, I haven't been able to keep what we walked about out of my head. You know, for a long time now -- I guess I still am really -- I've . . . a . . . sort of been preoccupied with something. I've got a choice to make, a really, really hard one. It feels like no matter which way I go, I can't win. Either way, I'm gonna hurt a lot of people, probably myself too. Everybody around me loves me, but they always try to choose for me. At first, I thought it was what I wanted, but I'm not so sure now. If I do this, I'll destroy them all. If I don't, I'm afraid I'll destroy myself. I love them all so much." By now Dylen's voice was quivering, "I don't know what I should do."
"What is it?" Rian asked. In spite of Dylen's obvious pain, he hoped beyond hope that he already knew. He reached out for his friend's hand. Dylen took it. Rian resisted mightily the urge to kiss Dylen. Instinct told him they both wanted it, but he couldn't, not now. Not here. Still, the bond, the love, was so strong it threatened to pull them both in.
"I need someone to talk to, to help me figure this out. I can't explain why, but when I'm with you everything seems so clear. You're the only person in my life that lets me choose for myself. I learn so much when I'm with you. I . . . I really don't know what I'm asking. Just . . . I don't think that I can do this without you."
"I understand. I'll always be here for you. Whatever you need whenever you need it, just ask. As long as I'm alive, I promise you will never be alone."
Dylen had never come so close to telling anyone. He needed to feel Rian near him. Dylen reached around Rian's broad chest and pulled himself into as tight a hug as he could muster. Rian returned it, nearly lifting Dylen off his feet. It felt so safe, so secure here. Dylen understood now why Rian did this a couple of nights ago. There was something so beautiful, so warm here; the barbs of pain and sadness just bounced off.
"Thank you."
"No. Thank You."
Rian felt so good he was practically floating as he opened his apartment door. As he crossed the threshold, he saw the open letter lying on the couch. Rian walked over and picked it up. He read the last lines again, lines transmuted in one day from a source of heartache to a source of joy.
"Please know that I love you always. You know my favorite quote, the one your dad gave me that day. I would only cause you to creep when you are meant to soar. You are destined for great things Rian May, places and paths I can not follow. I wish with all my heart that I could, but I can't.
"Even though the path will be rocky and lonely sometimes, I know there is someone out there for you. Please find him. I will smile from a happier place as you soar above the clouds, above the whole world, with the one who can soar with you. Don't blame yourself. I had to do this. Don't forget me. Brock"
The following afternoon, Dylen sat in the back seat on the way home from Church. He could still hear the words, see the moments from just a couple of hours earlier. Two sudden interviews. His father presenting his name. Several hundred hands automatically raised. Sitting in a chair encircled by every man he loved, save one. The heavy press of their hands on his head. His father's emotional voice:
"Dylen Fielding Mason. By the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood and under the direction of the President of the Greeley Colorado Stake of Zion, we lay our hands upon your head and confer upon you the Priesthood of Melchizedek and ordain you to the office of an Elder in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
"At this time Dylen we also give you a blessing. The Lord . . ." He kept reliving it, but the only words that came to him were 'How did I end up here?' No one even asked him if this was what he wanted. And why should they have? He'd always towed the line and been happy. A few months ago this would have been the happiest moment of his life. But now, after what he was experiencing with Rian, it felt empty, cold. The weight of those hands, the weight of expectation he wasn't sure he wanted, felt like it was smothering him. Was this he really who he was? Was he supposed to be swept with the tide of Church pressure, never questioning what he was doing? Was his destiny to walk a path he never chose for himself just because it was expected? Was he never meant to feel what he craved when he was with Rian? What he had told Rian was the truth. The only time Dylen was happy now, the only time he ever chose his own path, was when he was with Rian.
The irony struck him again that he was truly happy only when he was supposedly sinning. But, there were so many pits on that path. Rian was straight. He had to be. He said he had been with girls, had sex with them. Rian might always be a friend, but he couldn't be a lover, no matter what Dylen felt for him, could he?
Dylen looked at his scripture case, the same case he'd been staring at two weeks ago when he wrecked his car. He opened it up and took out the copy of his priesthood lineage, the chart showing his passed down authority, generation after generation, back to Jesus Christ himself. By following his heart he'd betray generations of his family. He'd reject the very reason God made him. The Church would declare him an abomination and desert him. He hoped his family could still love him, but he doubted they could accept him after that. He'd sacrifice it all and still have no one to love. By staying in the closet, by towing the line, he'd be lying and miserable, but he would still have everything and everyone he once and still held dear. If he came out, he'd be honest at last, but alone and unloved. Would staying in be any less miserable than coming out? He felt so trapped.
"Are you OK, dear?" Kathi asked, breaking Dylen's concentration. "You look a little preoccupied."
"I'm fine, Mom. Just thinking."