Page 50 of A Stealthy Situation

“If he enjoyed it so much and he’s not straight, then remind me why it isn’t happening again? Frequently? You like this guy.”

“Fuck off, I do not.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Why? Because I don’t want to date my friend?”

“Because you can’t even have a simple conversation with him.”

I hate being a twin. He’s got me there. Harrison and I are continuing our friendship as though nothing happened. Exactly like nothing happened. Sure, we’ll get flirty and whatever, but that’s nothing new for us. Whenever it gets too close to our shared orgasm moment though, the both of us nope out of the conversation fast. We’re champions at redirecting.

The good thing is that Harrison has his roommates if he needs to talk through any confusing, angsty, coming-out stuff. That side of things was never an issue for me since Asher, West, Hazel, and Em are all queer, so I wouldn’t be any help to him anyway. He gets all that self-discovery to himself; I’ve done my part, and I don’t think I want to talk to him about it all anyway because I don’t know where my head is at.

If he was here, naked, asking to hook up? Let’s be real, it’d happen. I’m just not sure that it’d be a good thing for it to happen, which isn’t something I usually have to think about. I really like Harrison; he’s a great friend, and in a choice between hanging out with him versus hanging out with anyone else—Em not included—I’d pick him. Hands down.

But is it a feelings thing, or is it just that I’m emotionally stunted and suck at making friends, so now I’m clinging to the first real one I have?

Because I don’t want to face any of these thoughts, I turn things around on Em. “So, told West and Asher yet?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Made a plan?”

“Stop bugging me.”

“Just saying, life is getting away from us. It’s been a month since you were given the boot, and you still don’t know what you want to do. You can’t live off of a mattress in my room for the rest of the school year. What will you do then? Forge your diploma? Move to Mexico?”

Em’s shoulders have gotten all tense in his silhouette made by the sunset. “Are you forgetting I’m the older brother?”

“There’s no proof of that.”

“Of course there is. I was born first. That’s indisputable proof.”

“Yeah, but we’re identical. How many times do you want to bet our parents mixed us up, couldn’t tell who was who, and just eeny meeny miny mo-ed it?”

“That’s not a thing parents do.”

“Why not? What the fuck does a name mean to a squishy flesh ball anyway?”

“Your lack of emotion scares me sometimes.”

The excess emotions I’m feeling over Harrison is what scares me.

It’s not until after we’ve taken a quick swim, climbed back in the car, wrapped up in towels, and driven all the way home that I realize Em didn’t answer my question.

He’s getting too good at distracting me lately, and I’m beginning to think it’s on purpose.

But if he hasn’t made a plan, and he doesn’t want to talk to me about things, what the hell do I do?

I’m so fixated on my worry about Em through my shower that I even forget to jerk off over Harrison.

Who the hell am I turning into?

15

HARRISON

The second my eyes pop open, I grab my phone and check the screen, immediately grinning at Benny’s name there.

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