I met him in my freshman year of college. We were at a nightclub near West Hollywood, where it was frequented by underage kids who wanted to feel cool.
Griffin was leaning against a table beside a dozen of his brothers. There were clear glass bottles in buckets of ice below. The female friend I was traveling with introduced me to Griffin and a few brothers. She’s a Kappa at USC, and he’s a Lambda.
“Isn’t he hot?” she shouted in my ear. “I tried to strike up a conversation with him at a frat party a few months ago, but he started squirming, if you know what I mean!” I know exactly what she means.
I’m not out of the closet yet. Although I have been sexually aroused by men since the age of 13, I told myself that I would only go public when I had deep feelings for another man. Back then, I had never experienced falling in love before – the feeling of not being able to get someone out of my head and constantly daydreaming about a future life together. Without that feeling, I realized that I couldn’t admit to being gay to myself or to others.
That night I met Griffin, I experienced those feelings for the first time. I couldn’t stop looking at him from across the dance floor. Not only is he physically perfect, with his sharp jawline and gorgeous lashes, he’s also the embodiment of who I want to be – openly gay and accepted into a large circle of friends. male. That’s something I’ve never had before. I wanted him and immediately wanted to be him.
At the time, I was living in my sister’s apartment, sleeping in her guest room. She was traveling with her boyfriend. Thankfully her apartment is a short distance from the nightclub. I found Griffin later, and we ended up spending the night together.
Then I knew I was gay, and it was time to get out of the closet. I fantasized about dating him, but there’s only one problem: He’s leaving for the summer and coming home to Texas. However, that doesn’t stop me from completely liking him.
I was planning to transfer from Santa Monica College to USC in the fall. I’ve always set my sights on USC, but now there’s an even bigger reason to apply. I want Griffin’s life – to be famous and openly gay in a top college fraternity. And, of course, I want him. He was all I could think of that summer.
In August, I walked up to the steps of the brother’s house on the first day in a hurry. My hands trembled at the thought of how our second interaction would go. I saw him standing in the beer-stained, yellow Lambda Chi Alpha banquet hall chatting with some other hurried people.
“Hi, Griffin,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets to hide my anxiety.
“Tanner!” he replied as if he hadn’t seen me in a long time. “How are you?”
We engaged in small talk until the small talk became too trivial. “Well, it’s good to meet you,” I said.
In the end, I joined another fraternity, one that better suited my personality. Billed as the first openly gay brother in the Tau Kappa Epsilon at USC, I finally felt accepted by a large group of men – something I’ve always wanted but never experienced as a teenager. .
I was obsessed with Griffin during my sophomore year. We ran into each other at parties and bars off campus. The last few times we went home together, but I was always too nervous to ask for anything more.
Looking back, maybe he could say I was smitten with him. I could barely speak when I talked to him unless I was drunk, then I wouldn’t tactfully follow him around wherever I found him.
During my junior year, I barely saw him. Our path is rarely crossed. He had a boyfriend and went abroad, and I took a step back from Greek life to get rid of the bad habits I had picked up in the previous year as a degenerate fraternity. (Let’s say I need therapy more than I need a man.)
Fast forward to senior year. One night during my first semester, I slept over at a friend’s house, Delta Gamma, where she lived with six other women. I woke up beside her in the middle of the night and then went downstairs to get a glass of water only to find Griffin there in the kitchen. He just ended his relationship and he is staying with a female friend who lives in the same house.
It was 1 a.m., and they had just returned from a night out. Even though I told myself it wasn’t worth getting involved with him again, I couldn’t resist when he suggested that I go home with him.
“Where do you go?” my friend asked when I went back upstairs to get my things on her bed.
“Can’t sleep,” I said. “Walking home.” I live on the street, and I don’t want to admit to being in a relationship that even she knows will spark feelings. And it did.
Griffin and I stayed together for a few more nights that semester. At the beginning of the second semester, I finally told him how I felt. If at least he’s not ready to date me, then I need to move on.
We were dating and drinking on my roof while we asked each other questions about life. We both smiled between each answer. That was three years ago, and we’ve been together ever since.
The author is writing her debut novel, “Tales of a Gay Frat Star.” Follow his writing journey on Instagram and TikTok: @tanneraiello
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