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"So you guys are back together again?" Tomas asked during our lunch break. I had filled him and Terry in on the events that had occurred the day before during and after my visit to Pine Crest, Pete's high school. "Seems kind of quick."
"No, we're not back together, but we're working on rebuilding our friendship. We talked for a while yesterday at his school and a couple hours last night as well. He's got a lot on his plate right now-things I don't feel comfortable talking about without his permission."
"The abuse?" Terry inquired quietly.
"Yeah," I confirmed. "It's not something that's easy for him to talk about even to the people he trusts, like his brothers and his dad. I mean, how would you feel telling your parents that some monster had made you…."
I stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to continue. If Pete wanted them to know what really happened, then it was his place to tell them, not mine. I would honor his trust in me.
"Guys, I'm sorry, but it's not right for me to tell you what he told me. It's his to tell, not mine."
"Sure, Brian," Terry responded with a smile. "I understand."
"Yeah, I do, too," Tomas added quietly. "Is there anything we can do for him?"
Terry glanced askance at his friend, but I ignored it.
"Give him a call, maybe? Let him know that you're there for him."
"After what he did to you?" Terry demanded with surprise.
"What happened between Pete and me is in part due to the other stuff. Regardless of anything else, Pete is going through something incredibly difficult- more difficult than anything I've been through. Even if we never get back together again as a couple, he's still a friend, and I want to be there for him if he needs me as he goes through everything.
"Yeah," Terry acquiesced. "If it was me, I would want my friends to stand by me."
"You guys are still his friends. If I didn't tell you before, I'm telling you now: don't take sides in this. Any friction between Pete and me is between us. Don't let it affect your friendship with him. He needs that more than ever right now."
My friends both nodded.
"I'll call him tonight," Tomas said.
"Call, hell," Terry inserted. "We need to go see him for something like this. Can you get free tonight?"
Tomas nodded. "Yeah. Will he be at your place tonight, Brian?"
"I think so. He and his father have some paperwork to go over."
"Okay, we'll be there around six," Terry confirmed.
"Sounds good, guys," I said with a smile.
We separated after eating, with Terry and Tomas ambling off toward their lockers and me walking to the office. The principal had asked me to drop by at the end of lunch to talk discuss the requests she had received from area schools for CIA presentations. The office secretary directed me into Dr. Sumner's office, where the woman was working. She smiled as she saw me enter.
"Hello, Brian. How is your day going?"
"It's been an interesting twenty-four hours, Dr. Sumner."
"Oh? How so?"
"Well," I began with some embarrassment, "You remember the fight I got into where I outed myself?"
"I believe I recall it," said the woman with a smile, emphasizing the understatement of her words.
"Pete goes to Pine Crest. After the presentation yesterday, we talked for a little bit, and then he came over last night after dinner, too. We're talking again."
"Brian, that's wonderful!" Exclaimed Dr. Sumner, who seemed genuinely happy for us.
"Yeah, I think so, too," I responded with a smile. "We're going to go slow and talk about everything that happened between us. I don't know if we'll get together again, but I'm pretty sure we'll be friends."
"I certainly hope so. Should I expect him back here any time soon?"
"No," I replied. "Rather than change everything around again, he's going to finish out the year at Pine Crest. He's got a lot to deal with on top of everything else, too."
"Yes, I heard. I've been following the case in the news. Unfortunately, that kind of thing happens to more kids than anyone knows."
"That's something else I wanted to talk to you about, Dr. Sumner. What can we do to make people more aware of it?"
The educator hesitated, and then put it back on me. "What do you think, Brian?"
"I could wrap it into the CIA presentation, but it had to be related somehow. Going from school bullies to child abuse is a stretch."
"Think about it for a while and tell me what you come up with. Maybe we can figure something out. Just like the CIA, I believe that something like this would be better received from another student. You might want to discuss this with Pete and see how he feels as well. I don't want to presume anything, especially given the gravity of the issue, but if he would consider speaking about it to schools around the area, I think it would certainly raise awareness of the issue."
"I don't know if I could ask him to do that, Dr. Sumner. What I'm doing is nothing compared to what he's dealing with."
"I understand, Brian."
"I'll think about it," I promised.
"That's all I ask." The woman picked up a stack of perhaps two dozen papers. "These are e-mails requesting more information about the CIA…" She then picked up another shorter stack. "…and these are e-mails requesting presentations, mostly from this area, but there is one from Arizona and two more from California."
"Wow."
"Yes. Some of these information requests are from Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, New Mexico, Texas, Colorado… all over the west. Dr. Redfort was right, Brian. You've started something here."
"When am I supposed to go to school and work out?" I asked rhetorically, then more seriously, "It sounds like I'll be doing presentations from now until forever."
"I've been thinking about that too," the woman said with a smile. "What would you say to teaching a few people to give the presentations?" She suggested. "That way the burden wouldn't be entirely on you."
"We'd have to figure that out. Do you have anyone in mind?" I asked.
"I have a few ideas," replied the principal. "Let me see if they'll even consider it, and then we'll go from there."
"Okay. Keep me posted."
"I will," said Dr. Sumner as she handed me the papers. "Here is a copy for you, and I have an assignment for you."
"Great," I said with a sarcastic smile.
"Actually, it's more of a favor. Would you write up a description of the CIA and how it operates; something that I can send to administrators and student councils that request information?"
"Sure. I'll have it to you by Friday morning."
"And Brian, add something from yourself, if you would. A little bit about what prompted you to form the group. A personal statement."
"Okay, I can do that," I agreed, already planning it out in my head. "Anything else?"
"No, I don't think so." The principal stood. "You've done very well, Brian. Keep up the good work, and have a good day."
I walked away from the principal's office considering the possibility of somehow doing a joint presentation. I knew the likelihood of Pete agreeing to the concept was slim, at least as things stood. Maybe further down the road he might consider it. Shrugging to myself, I made the decision to mention it and see what happened. It was possible he could surprise me.
As I walked to my locker to get my books, a disturbance caught my attention. A medium height form with red hair and a loud voice was at the center, yelling at some larger boys who were familiar to me. It took me only a few seconds for me to get to the scene.
"What's going on, Ray?" I asked Pete's brother. "Something wrong?"
Ray glanced my way and the corner of his mouth twitched as if to smile, but instead he spat, "I don't know. Is there a problem, Garza?"
A glance to the side revealed that Jesus Garza and Todd Langley were glaring at Ray and the boy next to him. After a moment of pregnant silence, the two would-be bullies turned and walked away.
"Thanks, Ray, thanks, Brian," said the boy beside Ray, whom I recognized at Seth Peterson, a short sophomore. "I thought I was in for it."
"Where's your group?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"Your CIA group. Where are they?"
"Oh, I'm not part of the CIA. My parents don't let me join after school groups."
"Why not?" I asked, motioning Ray and Seth to the side so others could pass.
"They don't trust me, I guess." The boy shrugged. "At least that's what they say."
"Do you they let you hang out with friends?" Ray asked in a mellow voice. I had to look at Ray to make sure it was really he that had spoken, since I rarely heard Ray use anything but high-volume tones.
"No. I don't have any friends. Not really," Seth replied, his cheeks coloring.
"How can a cute guy like you not have any friends," Ray asked, his tone calming in nature.
"Cute? Me?" Seth's blush changed from pink to scarlet.
"Yes, you." Ray answered with a grin, which obviously flustered the boy in front of us.
Seth blushed as he dropped his eyes. "Oh, um… Mom and dad don't let me have friends over. They say that it distracts me from what I'm supposed to be doing."
"Which is?" Ray asked gently.
The warning bell rang.
Seth's expression went from embarrassment to regret to relief in the space of a second.
Before he could run off, I asked, "What's your next class, and can I meet you there after so we can see about getting you scheduled in to CIA groups?
"I don't know…"
"It wouldn't mean you have to stay after school. If you give me your schedule, I can get you into groups that will help keep people like Garza and Langley from bothering you."
He thought about it for a minute, and then decided, "Okay, sure. I have English with Ms. Wheeler."
"Oh," I replied, "I'm sorry. She and I don't get along. "If you can write your schedule on a piece of paper, it'll save time. I'll meet you outside her door right after the next class.
"So will I!" Ray added with a grin, causing Seth to blush again.
"Okay. See you then."
As the boy walked away, I put my arm around Ray's shoulders.
"Looking for a new boyfriend, Ray?" I asked mildly.
"Nope," he replied, his voice soft and relaxed. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "I think I found one. He just don't know it yet."
"Guys, I'd like you to meet Abby, and her son Sean," Kevin said, presenting a fortyish woman and her young teenaged son as they walked through the door of the house.
Kevin and Abby had been dating since just after Pete and I had split in October. Their relationship had blossomed over the months to the point where Kevin was ready to introduce her to the rest of us. He claimed that he needed the months to prepare her for meeting us, but the truth was, as far as I could tell, that he didn't want to make a mistake and expose the family to someone that he didn't think he could make a commitment to. He knew how much turmoil we had been through and, like the excellent father he was, took precautions to avoid generating more chaos. By introducing her and her son to us, it was obvious that his feelings for Abby and Sean had grown to the point of seeing if she was compatible with the rest of the family.
Abby was a pleasant seeming woman just a few inches shorter than I. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed large brown eyes and a ready smile. Her son's face held her features. His head was topped by an unruly mass of brown hair and was supported by a thin body with arms and legs everywhere. I couldn't tell if his hair was styled or if he had just awoken from a nap. As he approached me to shake my hand, his eyes grew wide, moving from my face to my body, taking in my build. He shook my hand with a moderate grip.
"It's nice to meet you, Sean," I greeted him with a smile.
"You too," he replied softly in a child's soprano. His voice had not yet dropped in register even though he was equal in height to his mother and despite puberty having him fully in its grip.
He made the rounds, shaking hands with Pete, Ray and Jason, before Pete and I took him on a tour of the property, ending in the weight room. Sean walked around the room, running his hands over the metal plates along the walls before stumbling to the weight bench where he took a seat. He was obviously embarrassed about tripping and wouldn't look me in the eye.
"Is this how you got so buff, Brian?" He asked quietly, looking around the weight room again. "You lift weights all the time?"
"Well, not all the time, but yeah, I lift quite a bit," I confirmed, matching his tone. "I've been lifting for about four years," I stated, answering his next question.
"Wow. I've been wanting to get into lifting weights for a long time. I'm tired of being skinny," he confided, eyes looking at his feet. "I hate being skinny."
"You're thin," I observed., "There's nothing wrong with that, Sean."
"That's not what they say at school," he voiced with a hit of fire, briefly meeting my eyes with a defiant gaze before returning his eyes to his feet.
"Sean, what 'they' say doesn't mean anything, bud." I sat on the bench next to him. "They used to call me shrimp and all sorts of names because I was really small when I was your age. I was about three inches shorter than you are now and weighed less too." He eyed me with suspicion for a moment, and then again dropped his eyes. "Seriously. Ask Pete. He was there."
"He's telling the truth, Sean," Pete confirmed. "Brian and I went to school together in fifth and sixth grade. He was a shrimp. Now look at him."
"Gee, thanks, Pete," I spat in mock anger.
Pete smiled. "Well, you were!"
"Enough out of you."
The byplay earned a shy smile from Sean that lasted all of a few seconds.
"I wish I was big like you, Brian," Sean said in a tremulous voice.
"It took a lot of work, Sean. A lot of time and effort. And a lot of dedication," I cautioned. "You have to commit yourself to it and do it whether you feel like it or not."
He raised his eyes to mine. "If it'll make those guys leave me alone, I'll do it. I'd do anything to make them leave me alone." Sean's eyes were burning with an intensity I recognized. I had seen it in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror during the time I had been separated from Pete. That intensity, and what it could lead to for Sean, frightened me.
"Sean, if you want, and if we have the time, I'll train you," I said, glancing at Pete for his nod of agreement, "but you have to promise me something."
"What?" He asked, his face changing to a study of suspicion.
"You have to promise me that you'll talk to someone about what is making you so angry." I overrode his attempt to interrupt or deny my statement. "Sean, I know that look. I've been there. I know that you think no one will understand, but that's simply not true."
"Yeah, right. Like you'd understand," he said with more bitterness than I'd heard in his voice since I'd met him.
"Try me. Like I said, I was smaller than you are. On top of it, I had at least half-a-dozen guys ranking me out every day. They called me names and pushed me around." He let out an exasperated sigh of disbelief.
"Sean," Pete inserted, "it's the truth. I know it is, because, before me and Bri became friends, I was one of the guys picking on him."
Sean's gaze alternated between us. I nodded to confirm Pete's statement.
"So what changed?" The boy asked, a spark of interest in his voice.
"I did," Pete answered. "I watched what was happening. I saw those guys giving Brian grief every time they saw him. I realized that I didn't want to be like that. It wasn't right to treat people like they treated Brian, so I stopped doing it. I apologized to him and we were friends from then on."
"And then about… what… eighteen months later?" Pete nodded. "Pete came out to me, I came out to him, and then four days after that…"
"Four days after that, my mom ripped us apart." Pete whispered.
"Yeah." I moved to Pete and wrapped him in a hug, which he returned, and then I turned in his arms to engage Sean's full attention. Once I was sure I had it, I continued.
"Over the next three years after that happened, I tried to kill myself, Sean."
Sean blinked.
"That look you had in your eyes just a minute ago? I know that look. I wore that look, Sean, and the anger that was behind it is what almost killed me. It made me crazy, and I not only hurt myself, but everyone I cared about, so I know what you're feeling. I'm here, and I'm willing to listen to you vent. You can yell, scream, cry… whatever you need or feel like doing, you can do it here. Nothing you say here will be judged. Nothing you say here is stupid. You aren't a pussy. You aren't weak. What you are is our friend, and we want to help you, if you'll let us."
"I just met you!" Sean spat, his expression displaying more panic than anger.
"Maybe, but we know each other, don't we?" I interjected, meeting his eyes for a long second before getting a nearly imperceptible nod.
"Give us a chance," Pete added. "Everyone needs friends who understand… and we understand."
"Why?" Sean asked, his eye boring into mine.
"Why what?" I asked. "Why are we doing this, or why you?"
"Yes. Both."
"A few reasons," Pete began. "First, you seem like a nice guy who is having a hard time dealing with things. We've been there, and we know how rough it can be. I had someone I could talk to about it all, and it made it easier.
"Secondly," I took up where Pete left off, "or maybe it's the same one… I didn't have anyone I trusted to talk to, mostly because I made the decision I couldn't trust them, not because they weren't trustworthy. If I can help you to judge who is trustworthy and who to walk away from, it will help. I'm not explaining it well, but I hope you get what I'm saying."
Sean nodded silently, his expression pensive.
"Lastly, your mom and my dad like each other," Pete stated. "They may even get married some day. That will make you my brother. I'd rather have you as a friend than a stranger or an enemy. Some blended families are like that, but I don't want ours to be. I want us to get along, care for each other, and maybe grow to love each others as brothers."
"What about you, Brian?" Sean inquired, blinking sudden tears out of his eyes.
I shrugged. "What Pete said goes for me too. Kevin is an important part of our lives. We want him to be happy. If that means your mom is in his life, then you are in his life, and our lives as well. If we, you and Pete and me, can become friends, then it'll be easier for your mom and Kevin to be happy too."
"And look at it this way," Pete added. "When you go to high school, you have us and our friends to look out for you. No one is going to mess with you when we're around."
Sean looked between us for a moment before nodding. "Okay. So can we start with the bench press?"
"Brian, there is someone on the phone for you!" Dawn yelled from the kitchen, much to my mother's annoyance.
"Coming," I called, and heard my mother chastising my sister for her lack of manners as I walked in to pick up the phone. A non-repentant Dawn walked out of the kitchen, and was followed by my mother, who was obviously miffed at her daughter's lack of respect.
"Hello?"
"Is this Brian Kellam?"
"It is. May I ask who is calling?"
"My name is Trent Ridgeway. I'm a producer for the evening news at KGW. I received an e-mail about a student group you started at your high school, and I want to send a reporter out to do an interview."
"Ah… I'll have to ask my parents."
"Of course. Are they there now?"
"Um, my mom is. Hold on."
"Sure."
I put the phone down and took a deep breath. I knew that I would have to do this regardless of my desire for privacy. I walked into the living room where my mother, Pete and Ray sat watching television.
"Mom, there is a guy from a TV station on the phone."
"Holy shit!" Ray blurted excitedly.
"Raymond!"
"Greek!"
"He wants to send a reporter over to interview me for the news. He needs your permission."
She looked at me for a moment and asked, "What do you think? Do you want to do it?"
"No…"
"Brian," Pete interrupted, "you have to do this!"
"I was going to say before I was interrupted that I don't want to do it, but I think I have to." My boyfriend looked suitably abashed, and I grinned at him, and then looked at my mother. "Mom, can I do it?"
"If you want to do it, then do it. I trust you to make the right decision for you," she replied. Her last sentence had become a mantra for our relationship after my trip to the Forn's home over Christmas break.
"Okay. I'll let him know and find out when the reporter will be here."
I walked back into the kitchen and picked up the receiver. "I'll do it. When and where?"
"We'll do it at your school tomorrow about nine," the man answered. "I already talked to your principal and she agreed to let us use it as a backdrop."
"Okay, I'll see whoever you send tomorrow morning, then."
The next morning at school, I nervously awaited my summons from Dr. Sumner signaling the news crew was on campus. Mr. Griffith, my biology teacher, had given up on trying to keep my attention as he was aware of what was going to happen. He knew I would have no trouble keeping up despite the distraction of the day. When I was finally called to the office, I all but ran down the hall to my locker where I deposited my backpack, and then made tracks for the front of the school. Walking to the office, I was surprised to see Kevin talking with the principal and a blond woman in a pantsuit. They all turned to me as I approached.
"Ah, here he is," Kevin said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Brian Kellam, let me introduce you to Robin Hayes, a reporter from KGW."
"It's nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand.
"You too," the journalist replied with a smile. "It seems you've come up with quite a winning concept, Brian."
"I think so."
"Okay, here is what we're going to do. We're going to set up a camera in front of the school and you're going to say something about the club. It has to be under ten seconds for the nightly news."
"Something like, 'I got tired of seeing kids get picked on, so I decided to do something about it. I tried to find a way to stop the harassment, and I think we've done it here. No one is afraid to walk down the halls anymore.'"
"Perfect. After we shoot that, we're going to set up in a class room and talk about the CIA a little more in depth. I'll ask some questions and I want you to answer honestly and openly. Don't worry about taking time to think about your answers or if you flub up what you were going to say. We can edit that stuff out."
Kevin inquired, "Is this all for the evening news? It sounds like a lot of footage for a thirty-second news bite."
"The shot in front of the school is for the evening news, but the rest of it is for a longer piece I'd like to do. If the CIA works as advertized, then it needs to go national."
"National?" I swallowed hard.
"Yes. My niece goes to a high school east of here, and she is gay. The harassment is terrible. It has to stop, and the CIA is the best thing I've seen in that respect. Ever.
"After we're done here, we might get some shots of you at home or in the gym; something from your normal daily routine."
"Sounds good," I replied. "Let's get started."
We took the shot in front of the school in a single take and then set up in a counseling room for the real interview work. She covered the concept, what prompted the idea, and how I went about forming the club.
After taking the back story, the reporter paused, then asked, "Brian, you carry above a four point average with your advanced placement classes?"
"Yes. I'm taking AP biology, English, physics, history, and chemistry."
"And calculus as well, correct?"
"Yes."
"That seems like an incredible amount of work for a young man," the reporter stated rhetorically.
"It's difficult, but I manage."
"It is obvious from your build that you lift weights. Do you work out a lot?"
"You could say that," I answered cautiously. "It's how I blow off steam."
"You play sports too, right?" She asked.
"Yes," I replied. "Football, baseball and wrestling."
"It's hard to imagine how you can do all of that and have a home life as well," commented the woman.
"My family is very supportive, and I have good friends."
"Are they supportive of you being in a relationship with another boy?"
"Don't answer that, Brian!" Kevin's voice rang out from behind me.
"What does that have to do with the CIA?" I demanded.
"Brian, when this goes national, it's going to come out anyway. If you admit to it now on national television, it is a known factor and can't be brought up later as something you're trying to hide. It's better to be up front about it rather than secretive."
I turned to look at Kevin. He was frowning and deep in thought. A moment later he told the reporter, "I need to speak with Brian in private before we continue."
"Take five, guys," the reporter told the camera crew.
Kevin led me to the adjacent room and closed the door. "Take a seat," he instructed, "I need to make some calls.
He pulled out his cell phone and called my mom as I leaned back in a chair to the point its legs creaked ominously. I listened while he explained the situation to her for a moment. After a short exchange, he hung up and then made another call to Pete's school. A few minutes later he spoke to Pete, informing him of what was happening. He hung up and then faced me.
"They both said to go for it if you want to, or feel you need to," Kevin said with a smile and a shrug.
"What do you think?" I asked Pete's father.
"I think that the potential benefit outweighs the potential risk. Having said that, it's going to put you on the national stage, and everything you've ever done will become public record… including your eating issues. There will be people who are going to try to tear you down and discredit you. It won't be easy."
I sighed. "This is not what I wanted to happen, Kevin. I just wanted to be a normal guy."
"Brian, you'll never be normal. You are extraordinary in a good way. You're making an impact to improve our society, and you'll keep doing just that. I know you will."
"Is it worth it?" I asked after a pause.
"What do you see when you walk through the halls? Is that worth it?"
"That almost cost me Pete, Kevin."
Kevin opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again for a moment before saying, "Yes, that's true. I can't answer whether what you went through is worth it or not. I can only give you my perspective."
"I appreciate it, Kevin."
"In the end, this is your decision. We will support you no matter you decide, no matter what happens."
"Yeah, I know."
He stood. "I'll give you a few minutes to think about it. Try not to take too long. They are reporters, and they won't wait forever."
He walked out and shut the door, leaving me to my thoughts. It didn't take me long to come to the decision to go through with the interview.
As I walked back into the room with the camera, the reporter looked at me impassively, waiting for my verdict. I sat down with a sigh and said, "All right. Let's do this."
"You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that," the woman replied with sincerity. "Trust me, I'm not out to make you look bad. You're the hero of this story, after all."
"Hero?" I exclaimed, feeling shocked at the characterization.
"Champion, then. Whatever word you choose, you are certainly championing the rights of peer-abused-kids everywhere. You ready?"
"I guess."
"Okay. We'll start with the supporting you in a relationship with another boy question." I nodded and the reporter told the camera man to start rolling.
"Are they supportive of you being in a relationship with another boy?"
"Yes, absolutely. They weren't always, but a lot has happened in the last several years, and we've grown, both as individuals and as a family."
"What can you tell me about your boyfriend?"
"I've loved him for four years. He keeps me grounded."
"In what way?"
"Sometimes I overdo the working out, and he reminds me to stop before I hurt myself, or he makes sure I finish my dinner… things like that. He also supports me with the workload I'm carrying at school by letting me have the time to do what needs to be done without bothering me."
"He sounds wonderful."
"He is. We've had our challenges to overcome and broke it off for a while last year, but we're working on the issues that came between us. We're friends right now, and I don't foresee that changing."
"You're referring to your boyfriend not wanting to be out at school?"
"Yes. I confronted some bullies that were picking on a kid that they thought was gay. I stopped them from harassing the kid, and then they attacked me. I defended myself, but in the process of defending myself, I said something that outed me at school. My boyfriend, who was struggling with his own issues at the time, made the decision that he couldn't go to the same school as I was because he was afraid to be out."
"Your boyfriend was one of those who came forward with information that led to the arrest and conviction of a child molester, was he not?"
"Yes. One of the reasons my boyfriend was afraid to be out was the abuse he suffered at that man's hands. We were also threatened with a knife last year, and the threat was blatantly homophobic. He had reason to be afraid, but he is dealing with those issues, and I help him as best I can in that, just as he supports me with my issues. It's what partners do for each other.
"What would you say to those who claim your relationship is immoral?"
"People who use the Bible to justify their hatred are basing their prejudice on a document that has hundreds of other restrictions on diet and behavior, restrictions that those same people ignore. I don't understand that. Either the Bible applies or it doesn't. They need to make up their mind and live their belief, the same as I do."
"And your belief is?"
"Love is God's gift to the world, and if He made us capable of loving each other in the way that my boyfriend and I do, then who are we to say God is wrong?"
"That's a fine sentiment, but it doesn't do anything to persuade those people to your point of view."
"Nor do their hypocritical pronouncements sway me to their point of view. The only thing that matters is this: I love my boyfriend, and he loves me. That which God has brought together, let no man put asunder."
I knew my usage of the line would cause a firestorm with the religious right, but I didn't care.
I had my family's support, and I had Pete's love. No matter what anyone said, it was mine forever.