Page 37 of Switch Pitching

The only difference is that my straight college friends didn’t flirt with me for fun 24/7, joke about us being a couple, orget into bed with me. Those are all James things. I’m used to bro-hugs, not whatever the fuck James is doing now.

I hate this. I also love thisin theorybut not when it’s James, and especially not when I’m using all of my limited brainpower just to avoid falling for him.

James’s phone pings with about fifty texts in quick succession, which interrupts my tortured thoughts. He fumbles around under the covers for the phone that fell out of his pocket, narrowly missing my traitorous, involuntarily semi-hard dick way too many times, and triumphantly thrusts the glowing rectangle onto his pillow.

I twist my neck so I can see James. He’s flicking through his phone, a wide smile plastered on his face.

“Got some good news?” I ask.

James dips his phone to meet my gaze. “My parents were watching the game tonight and they’re sending a care package because we lost.”

“A care package?”

James’s face lights up. “Yeah! They said it’s a surprise but it’s full of food and stuff. It’ll get here tomorrow morning.”

“That’s so cool, your parents are great.”

James smiles. “Yeah, they’re awesome. They’ve always been there for me and they’re my biggest cheerleaders.”

Most of my friends’ parents are also kind, so I’m past the point of jealousy.

James is clearly thinking about something. “What about you? I don’t know anything about your parents. What’re they like?”

And there it is. I stiffen, and my mouth hardens.

“They’re… my parents. They still live in Machias,” I deadpan.

“Cool. You go back often?”

I hesitate, taking a deep breath. There isn’t much to say about my parents, so I don’t talk about them. But I trust James.

“Nah. Haven’t been back since I was nineteen.”

He bunches his eyebrows together. “Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

James doesn’t push, and it gives me the courage to keep going. “I came out to them when I was in college, when I was back home over break.”

I’m met with silence.

“My Dad lost it, called me a bunch of names, and they both chucked me out of the house. I ended up having to crash with a friend a few towns over and then drive back to Vermont a week early. Since all that went down, I haven’t spoken to either of them.”

James pulls me into a side hug, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and taking care to keep me as still as possible.

“I’m sorry, Ethan,” he says, his voice steady but sympathetic. “That must have been brutal.”

I shrug, downplaying it. “That was a long time ago. It sounds bad to say, but I… got over it pretty quickly? I had a scholarship and an apartment in Vermont to go back to. It’s whatever, and the town basically cast them out once word got around.”

“It’s not whatever,” he says with more force. “That’s fucked up. They’re your parents. They should’ve supported you.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

James squeezes my shoulder lightly. “You deserved better, Ethan. You’re their son. That’s the only thing that should matter.”

Tears start to well up in my eyes, and I force my eyelids shut to prevent any from coming out.

James lays his chin on my shoulder and sighs. “I can’t understand how anyone could treat someone like you that shittily.”

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