Unafraid

“Rooooooonan,” Michael said, stretching out his boyfriend’s name so it took him about ten seconds to say it.

“Well, brother,” Ciaran said, “you are the oldest and therefore the wisest.”

“Um, yes, brother, if you really think it’s wise,” Saoirse said, then added in a whisper, “You don’t really think it’s wise, do you?”

Ronan lay back on the mattress and swung his legs up and over Saoirse’s head. He started to pace the room, but the others couldn’t tell if he was doing so because he was nervous or because he was setting the stage to share their extraordinary secret. “I think it’s time,” Ronan announced. “I was just telling Michael this morning that there shouldn’t be any more secrets.”

Bug-eyed, Saoirse turned to Michael. “Did he say that, Michael? Did Ronan tell you that this morning?”

“Well, uh, yeah,” Michael confirmed. “He actually did.”

Tired of the suspense, Fritz wanted an answer. “C’mon, mate, just spill it!”

Michael saw Saoirse reach over and grab Ciaran’s hand, and he was jealous that he had no one to hold on to. He couldn’t believe Ronan was going to do this; he couldn’t believe Ronan was going to tell Fritz that they were both vampires. It was insane, it was unthinkable, and yet Michael couldn’t think of any way to stop him that wouldn’t make the situation more tense or Fritz more suspicious.

“The reason Saoirse is surprised that Michael has a reflection,” Ronan started, pausing for effect when he saw his boyfriend and his siblings hold their breath, “is because she thinks he’s some sort of god and not human like the rest of us.”

As Ronan’s words sunk in, they all exhaled in relief. All except Saoirse.

“I never said he was a god!” the girl screamed, her face reddened not by embarrassment this time, but by anger. “I said he’s really, really cute and all, but don’t make me sound like I’m round the bend!”

Now that the crisis had been averted, Michael thought it was time to have some fun. “You really, really think I’m really, really cute?”

“Oh blimey, Michael!” Saoirse exclaimed, jumping off the bed. “You know you’re cute, everybody says so, even Fritz.”

Once again Fritz proved that he wasn’t threatened by the fact that Michael and Ronan were gay or by the concept itself and was man enough to admit that he could notice if a guy was really, really cute.

Sort of. “I don’t think I used those exact words, Seersh,” Fritz said. “But I did mention to Phaedra once that you were a fine looking chap.”

“Thanks, Fritz,” Michael said, proudly accepting the compliment. “Right back at ya.”

“And lucky too ’cause girls can be certifiably crackers!” Fritz added. “For a second, I thought you were going to say she didn’t think you would have a reflection ’cause you’re a bunch of bloody vampires!”

They were all so stunned by Fritz’s comment that at first they didn’t realize they were laughing. Of course they were laughing more out of shock and the absurdity of the situation than because they thought the joke was particularly funny. Fritz, however, thought his comment was hilarious.

“Bollocks! I should’ve made you a vampire, Michael, instead of a zombie!” he exclaimed. “I could’ve called it ‘Bloody Nebraska’!”

Desperate to steer the conversation away from anything that had to do with vampires, Ciaran noticed one more gift that hadn’t been opened. It was on top of some books on the side of the desk and wrapped very simply in what looked like a brown paper bag. When he picked it up he saw that that’s exactly what it was, and he knew immediately whom it must be from. “Michael, I think this is from Ronan.”

Holding the gift, Michael looked over at Ronan and wore an expression as if to ask if it were okay to open his gift in public. “Go ahead, love,” he said, “otherwise I think the audience may revolt.”

He noticed that Ronan hadn’t written “To Michael” on the paper, but “Forever Beautiful, Forever Mine.” He hoped the gift was like the packaging—simple and sentimental.

It was.

“I love it, Ronan, thank you,” Michael said as he showed everyone that Ronan had given him a copy of Oscar Wilde’s play An Ideal Husband. The others might have thought it was just another book for Michael to read, but he understood the significance that Mr. Wilde’s works had in their relationship.

When they had first met Ronan had compared Michael to the titular character in Dorian Gray, then last semester Ronan had bought Michael a collection of short stories that included “The Young King,” which Ronan said reminded him of Michael. Now, he had a new title to add to his growing library.

As expected, Saoirse started to giggle when she saw the name of the play, and not so expectedly Ciaran joined her. “Have we all noticed that I’m the only one who’s acting like an adult and not snickering?” Fritz asked.

“Yes, Fritz, we have noticed,” Ronan replied, slapping his sister in the head and his brother on the arm.

Getting up from the bed, Fritz had one more declaration. “I think Nebraska would make a right fine husband and if I’m not invited to the wedding, I’ll knock both your bloody heads in.”

“Fritz,” Michael announced, “it wouldn’t be a party without you.”

The moment after their impromptu guests had left, Michael thought Ronan would continue their conversation about honesty and reveal to him the remaining secret, or God forbid, secrets that he was still concealing from him. But the gift giving had yet to cease. “I have something else for you,” Ronan said.

Now Michael really felt uncomfortable. Not only had he forgotten Ronan’s birthday completely, but now Ronan was showering him with gifts. “You’ve already given me so much.”

Ronan kissed Michael softly on his cheek. “And I’ll never stop.”

He shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring. It was silver with a thin blue band around it that looked like the waves in the broach Edwige always wore. “It’s the symbol of Atlantis,” Ronan explained. “Never-ending water.” Slowly, Ronan slipped it on Michael’s finger, and Michael felt a flurry of emotions rise from his stomach and swirl around his chest. It was such a beautiful ring, such a heartfelt gesture. Michael had no idea that it was also a family heirloom.

“My father left it for me,” Ronan explained, “along with a note that said, ‘You’ll know what to do with it when the time is right, when you become a man.’ Well, the right time is now.”

Speechless, Michael stared at the ring and then at Ronan; he just didn’t know how to respond. As he started to cry he simply said, “Thank you.”

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Ronan began.

“No,” Michael said. He couldn’t take any more; he was too filled with emotion. He didn’t want to listen to anything, he didn’t want to hear about any more secrets, all he wanted to hear was the sound of Ronan kissing him, the sounds of the two of them making love. But just as they embraced, the door flung open.

“Ronan! Just how long did you think you were going to be able to hide this secret?!”

Neither boy knew what Saoirse was talking about. “Yeah right,” she said, not believing their baffled expressions. “Well, follow me and I’ll show you.”

Downstairs they were as shocked as everyone else to see a car parked on the lawn in front of St.

Florian’s with a huge, black bow on its roof, but shocked for different reasons. Ronan because he genuinely didn’t know who would leave such a gift and Michael because he couldn’t believe Ronan would buy him a car on top of all the other presents he had given him. “Oh my God, Ronan!” Michael squealed. “I love it!”

In complete amazement, Michael walked around the red Mercedes Benz SUV. He had wanted a car ever since he passed his driver’s test and got his license, but he never thought Ronan would be the one to fulfill his wish. He was right. “Sorry, love,” Ronan said. “It’s not from me.”

“You’re just being coy, mate,” Fritz said, “ ’Cause you wanted it to be a private surprise.”

Even Ciaran thought Ronan was lying. “How did you ever convince Mum to spend so much money on someone other than herself?”

Michael noticed that a card was tucked under the windshield wiper. He ripped open the envelope, read the handwritten message inside the card, and every beautiful birthday memory was wiped away, every happy moment that he had just shared with Ronan and his friends was erased. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. “To my son. Ad infinitum! Happy Birthday. Love, Dad.” Michael spat out the words as if they were poison, and in his mind he was transported far from Double A to a padded room where he saw his father kill his mother, brutally and