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“I’m thinking of all the patches we could put on your jacket to make you look cool. Cooler,” he added hastily.

“Tell you what, when it’s your birthday, I’ll let you dress me however you want. When is that anyway?”

“February. I’ll hold you to that. It sounds fun.” Anthony flashed him a naughty smile.

Cameron noticed and reached for him. The moment their fingers touched, Anthony jerked his hand away.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Even here?” Cameron asked, still sounding patient, to his great relief.

“Yeah. You never know who you’ll run into.”

“Very true,” Cameron said with a chuckle. “Have you thought about coming out?”

Anthony shrugged. “A little. It wasn’t long ago that I was still in denial.”

“What are you afraid of?”

He didn’t need to ask why Cameron made that assumption. He doubted anyone came to terms with being gay without wading through the rancid swamp of fear and self-loathing. That was nothing to be ashamed of. The only tragedy was remaining there longer than necessary. Anthony hadn’t escaped the swamp completely, but at least now, the waters were below his waist instead of rising above his neck.

“It’s my dad mostly,” Anthony admitted. “I know he wouldn’t like it.”

“Are you worried he’ll kick you out?” Cameron asked.

“No. The thought crossed my mind, but I don’t think my mom would let him. I’m more worried that…” Anthony swallowed. “That he’ll stop loving me.”

“That’s how I feel about my grandpa,” Cameron admitted. “I’m crazy about him. It would break my heart if he didn’t want to talk to me anymore or whatever. I know he loves me, but he’s old and from a different era. I can’t expect him to understand what I’m going through.”

“Yeah. It sucks.” Anthony looked over at him sharply. “Notus. Or being gay. I like that part. I just wish everyone else was cool with it too.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Anthony couldn’t help thinking about the other reason he was scared. He’d been in sixth grade and was just starting to figure himself out when he’d seen a short clip on the news about a gay-bashing victim. The guy had been young, in his early twenties, although that could only be determined from the “before” photo they showed. The photo taken after he was attacked revealed a face so swollen and bruised that Anthony doubted the man’s own mother would have recognized him. Over the years that followed, he would occasionally hear of other such stories—gay men who were beaten for nothing more than being themselves. There was no national outrage or demands for justice. Sometimes he wondered just how many victims history had already forgotten, and how many there would still be. And yet, despite the threat of rejection,physical brutality, and the ever-looming specter of AIDS, gay men continued to leave the closet. He just wasn’t sure if he could be that brave.

“Do you think you’ll ever come out?” Anthony asked.

“Yeah,” Cameron replied, sounding surprisingly certain. “I don’t see a choice.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because if I don’t, it’ll get in the way of what I really want.” His gaze was intense as it locked on to Anthony. “The entire point of accepting myself was to get one step closer to finding my soulmate. And I’ve always promised myself, when that day comes, that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life hiding the best thing that’ll ever happen to me.”

The breath was short in Anthony’s throat as he struggled to voice his response. “I want that too. This might sound dumb, but at night, I like to sit outside in an old deck chair with my headphones on. I look at the stars while listening to music and imagine my future life withhim. He doesn’t have a name. I’m not sure what he looks like. He’s just the guy that I get to love someday. And he loves me back. It’s just a dream. Most of the time it sounds too crazy or dangerous but…”

“There’s also something heartachingly beautiful about it,” Cameron said with a nod. “We tend to value things because they’re hard to find. Diamonds, gold, pearls—hell, even those smelly mushrooms that pigs dig up—but there’s nothing rarer than our kind of love. People should nurture that instead of trying to snuff us out. So when my dream comes true someday, I’m going to defend it. Proudly. I won’t hide my love. That way, others like us will see there’s hope and maybe feel courageous enough to find that treasure for themselves.”

Anthony wanted to reach over and take his hand, but he was still too scared. He’d only just met Cameron, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that being taken away from him so soon. Disapproving parents, threats of violence, and being damned to hell in the sermons of priests… There was so much backlash to face, but Cameron seemed willing to weather that storm. “I wish I could be more like you.”

His boyfriend shook his head. “You’re right to be cautious. There’s a time and a place. I haven’t come out either.”

“How come?”

Cameron walked to the edge of the path and stopped. Not far away, by a small lake, a couple were passing out slices of bread to their children and encouraging them to throw pieces to the gathering ducks. “My parents have a messed up marriage,” he said while observing this.

“Really?” Anthony asked.

“Yes. They bicker a lot and…” He swallowed. “They’ve come close to getting a divorce. A few times now.”

“Oh. That sucks.”