Wes and Toren (39 page)

Mr. Carroll turned on me again with fire in his eyes. “This is all your fault!” he shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Wesley yelled, stepping in front of me.

I had never heard his voice so rabid before and it scared me. I was a fool to think I could come to the wedding without something 292

J. M. Colail

happening. Wesley always defended me and now Scott and even Michele were lending me their support.

“I love him,” I said, stepping next to Wesley. “I don’t care what you think, but I love Wesley with my whole heart and there is nothing you can do to change that,” I said in a surprisingly firm voice. Wesley looked at me and I narrowed my eyes at Mr. Carroll. “And it’s not your choice anyway. You can say whatever you want, but I’ll never stop loving him. And by the way, we’re gay. We’re not faggots; we’re gay.”

Mr. Carroll looked at me with a bewildered expression. He probably wasn’t expecting a queer to stand up for himself. But his anger redoubled and he started shouting, screaming at me. But Scott stepped forward and held up his hand.

“Go home, Dad. If this is the way you’re gonna act, I don’t want you here,” Scott said darkly, shaking his head. Mr. Carroll began to rant again, but Scott cut him off. “I said, go home. I don’t want you here.”

Mr. Carroll stared at Scott, then Wesley, then me. He turned on his heel and shook his head. “I thought I raised you better than this,” he said as one last jeer.

“Yeah, we have to thank Mom that we didn’t turn out like you,”

Scott replied, stealing the last word.

Mrs. Carroll followed her husband out of the reception hall and Scott turned to me with an apologetic expression. Wesley sat down in a chair and breathed like he had been holding his breath. The DJ was still playing music, there were people on the dance floor, and I felt relieved that it wasn’t as big a spectacle as I thought it was. Michele’s parents stepped back and returned to their friends with smiles. Me, Wesley, Scott, and Michele stood together.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Scott said, shaking his head ashamedly. “I…I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry.”

I touched Scott’s shoulder and smiled gratefully. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. If anything, thank you for defending us,” I said.

Scott excused himself and I pulled a chair next to Wesley and rubbed his back. He had downed both the beers he brought for us. Tears Wes & Toren

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were at the edges of his eyes and I ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Tor. I’m so sorry,” Wesley said quietly, staring at the ground. “I’ve never actually wanted to kill anyone before.”

“Don’t talk like that,” I said, rubbing his back again. I smiled and laughed softly. “You said it yourself; you can’t choose your family. But you chose me and I chose you. And I would again and again and again.”

Wesley finally looked up at me with a smile, when Scott tapped me on the shoulder. He was smiling ear-to-ear and held his hand out to me.

The song “Hero” by Mariah Carey started playing. “May I have this dance?”

Scott grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. He locked his arm around my back, held my hand up, and swayed me to and fro across the hardwood floor. I couldn’t help but laugh and I glanced at Wesley, watching us with a blank, open-mouthed stare. Michele grabbed one of her bridesmaids and began dancing, and then their friends paired up with same-sex partners and filled up the dance floor. I looked at Wesley again and he was laughing. The tension in the pit of my stomach broke and I hugged Scott.

“Thank you,” I said, with tears rimming my eyes.

“Thank you,” Scott answered. “It took some huge fucking balls to stand up to my dad like that. And thank you, too, for making my brother so happy.”

I smiled timidly and Scott waved to Wesley to come over. Wesley cut in and wrapped his arms around me. I felt like crying, but instead I laughed when I saw Scott dancing with Michele’s father.

“I love you. So much,” Wesley said and kissed me simply on the lips.

He smiled and my world was bright again, so I kissed him. “Thank you for loving me.”

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J. M. Colail

J. M. COLAIL currently lives in a suburb of Detroit with her dog, Maizy. She graduated from the University of Michigan-Dearborn with a bachelor's in anthropology. She loves reading and writing and works at a bookstore, which is bad for her wallet. She is looking for the perfect girl to make all her dreams come true but having fun while she does it.