Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“All right,” I said, clapping my thighs before standing up. “Let’s do this.”
I started to get more and more nervous. We were here accepting a Leadership for Change award, my dad only the second person ever to have won it. Since coming out, my dad had more than earned it. Just recently, he fought tooth and nail against a law that would have allowed adoption agencies the right to deny gay parents. It was sobering to see him fight so hard against something that sounded so wrong to me. Such a basic concept—gay parents are just as equal and capable of loving and raising children as their straight counterparts. Yet, for some reason, it had become a polarized issue. Thankfully, my dad now stood on the right side of the fence, not only striking down the law but managing to flip it so that protections for queer parents were now in place across the state.
Now, whenever the time came, Benji and I could go to any adoption agency and not have to worry about being kicked out because we simply loved one another. That was a walk of shame no one should ever have to take, and I’d forever love my dad for making sure no one would ever walk it at all.
But getting up onstage to support my dad wasn’t the only reason I was getting a bucket of butterflies dumped in my stomach.
I put my hands in my deep pant pockets. My fingers instinctively shut around the soft velvet box that had been pressed against my leg all day, its presence a warm reassurance and a nerve-heightening reminder at the same time.
“You guys are going to be great up there,” Benji said, standing, one hand looping through my elbow. He looked into my eyes, smiling wide.
“I love you, Rex.”
“And I love you, baby.” I kissed him. “Forever.”
Rex and his dad walked onto the stage to a room full of clapping and cheering. Behind them, the blue-and-white screens shifted and shimmered as if someone waved a magic wand at them, a video of Gavin Madison waving a rainbow flag at a Pride parade taking up the screens as a pop song made us all dance in our seats.
They both seemed excited, beaming from ear to ear as Gavin received his award. Rex resembled a handsome prince up on that stage, taking the spot next to his dad behind the tall glass podium. I looked between them, the stage lights lighting them up like celebrities, seeing a lot of similarities reflected back at me. They both had the same happy-sounding laugh, with the same easygoing grin and bright sky-blue eyes. I remembered a time when I thought the two of them couldn’t be any more opposite, and I strongly disliked Gavin for that. I’d seen him as a man who fought against my rights to live a happy life, except that entire time, he was actually fighting against his own inner demons, his struggle manifesting in hurtful ways.
Over the last two years, though, Gavin had really turned himself around. It had been a week or two before he was supposed to win his Senate seat in a landslide. He made a moving speech at the Georgia capitol that caused enough waves to garner international media attention. He came out on a worldwide stage, announcing his divorce of his wife while also making clear his love and support for his son. That part tugged at everyone’s heartstrings, even the most ruthless. He had started to cry, and the pain in his voice was real and raw. It resonated. He apologized for hurting him, along with the rest of the queer community. He promised, right there on live TV, that he would work for the rest of his life, wherever it took him, to make life easier for queer kids and adults all around the world.
It was a risky but very much-needed move. To be honest, I didn’t think he’d win the votes he needed to hold on to his seat. Although things seemed to be moving in the right direction, it was hard to tell how far we’d actually gotten.
Until the votes came in. Then it was clear: we came a hell of a way from where we started.
And since getting re-elected, Gavin immediately put his words into action. He really proved to everyone watching that he meant what he said through his now famous confirmation speech: “Equality for all means for all, not for some. Not just for those who look or sound or pray like you. For all.”
It was a resounding rebuke. And he fought every day to make sure queer people were seen as equals all throughout Georgia and beyond.
“Thank you, thank you,” Gavin said, the clapping softly dying down. I settled into my seat, trying not to freak out about seeing my boyfriend up on stage while about fifteen famous actors and actresses sat in tables all around me.