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“Nice room you got here,” he remarks as he changes into a wife-beater and gym shorts.

It’s true. Instead of bunk beds, we’ve got twin beds built into the walls. And there’s a comfortable expanse of floor between them. “The coaches get a little more breathing room. I’ve been living it up in here the last three years.”

He spins around. “Who do you room with?”

“Whoever.” I drop a wicking shirt over my head and then toe into my running shoes. Tying them takes only a few more seconds, and I’m anxious to get out of here and run. Maybe Wes will stop acting like a weirdo and just tell me what’s on his mind. “Let’s go?”

He gives his bag a kick. “I’m going to leave this here.”

“Where else would you leave it?”

He winces, and I don’t know why.

9

Wes

Outside, Jamie heads toward Mirror Lake, and I follow him. How many times have I run this loop with him? A hundred, at least.

“Remember that summer when we said we’d do five miles a day, no matter what?” I ask.

He’s put us on an easy pace as we head away from the dormitory. “Sure do.”

“Then we had that hot day with two practices and weightlifting. But you said, ‘We still have to do the run, or the summer won’t count.’” I snort just thinking about it.

“Nobody told you to eat that ice cream cone first.”

“I was starved. Of course, I haven’t been able to order pistachio since.”

Jamie snickers as we turn toward the lake. “Light green puke all over the lawn.”

“Good times.” They were, though. I’d yarf on the grass every day if it meant I could go back to the easy times. Chasing Jamie’s big, blond body around the lake was all I wanted out of life.

Okay, that’s a lie. I’d rather tackle him to the ground and strip off his clothing. Seeing him again is killing me right now.

I have something to say, though, and it has to be soon. We run the next mile in silence as I rehearse it again. My big apology. If Jamie is horrified, it’s going to sting.

There are kayakers on the lake, their vessels tipping with each stroke of the oar. I feel as steady as they look.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Jamie finally asks.

There’s no ducking it anymore. “I’m here just through July.” It’s best to get the preliminaries out of the way.

“Me too. I’m supposed to be in Detroit before August first. You’re heading to Toronto, huh? You pumped?”

“Sure. But listen… I just need to say that if you don’t want to room with me this summer, I’ll ask Pat to move me. I won’t even be offended.”

Jamie stops running, and I pull up short to avoid plowing into his back. “Why?” he asks.

Here goes nothing. It all comes out in a rush. “Canning, I’m gay. And yeah—maybe that’s not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Except that the last time we were here I kind of…pushed you into fooling around with me. It wasn’t cool, and I’ve spent the last four years feeling shitty about it.”

For a long moment he just gapes at me. And when he finally speaks, it isn’t what I expect him to say. “And?”

And?

“And…I’m sorry.”

His face reddens. “You know I’m from Northern California, right? You get that I know a gay dude or ten?”