Page 16 of Maybe We Can Fake It

It would kill me if he thought of me like that, though I assume he wouldn’t be friends with me if he did. He should know I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him being gay. There’s nothing wrong with him at all. I think he’s kind of perfect.

Of course, he doesn’t need to know that last part.

I wipe my fingers on a paper towel, stalling for a couple more seconds to figure out what I want to say. “I don’t mind explaining,” I tell him. “It’s just a little strange to be talking about it with someone I’m not...”

Going to hook up with.

It’s only relevant when I’m at a bar in some other town trying to get laid. Not that I do a ton of that. But I’m certainly not celibate.

Brenden’s earnest eyes bore into me. “Are you...”

“I’m gay.”

“Oh.” He nods a few times like he’s processing. “But nobody around here knows?”

“No.”

“Your dad?”

“No,” I say with more emphasis, and understanding slowly dawns on his face.

Folding my paper towel, I use it to sop up some of the grease on my pizza. If I ate like Brenden does every day, I’d need to go running a lot more than a couple times a week. He must have great genes to be able to eat nothing but garbage and not exercise and still stay slim. The men in my family have a history of high cholesterol. It eventually killed my grandfather, and my dad’s doctor is constantly harassing him about getting his under better control, so I try to watch myself. Lord knows I can’t control my dad, but I can at least take care of my own health.

I realize I’m stalling, and Brenden’s letting me, not pushing me like he usually does. I almost wish hewouldpush, becauseit might make it easier if he just forced this all out of me, rather than letting me get around to it on my own.

“I figured out who I was when I was in high school,” I tell him, still fussing with my food. “Back then, there was only one out gay kid in town. Andrew Rowland.”

“Oh, Andrew’s awesome,” he interrupts. “I go to trivia with him in Stoneridge sometimes.”

“Yeah, he’s cool. But...”

His face falls in concern. “Did he get bullied?”

“No. It was almost the opposite. Everyone treated him like some sort of celebrity. Like they wanted him to be the poster boy for how progressive Mayweather was becoming.” I shake my head, remembering how ludicrous it seemed.

Frowning, Brenden sips his coffee. “But thingshaveprogressed here. Drew is far from the only queer person in town anymore. They wouldn’t make a big deal like that if you came out now.”

“I know, but it’s not...” I trail off, scratching at my jaw. “That’s not the only reason I haven’t.”

He’s watching me closely, and I can tell it’s taking all his self-control not to blurt out the question. This isn’t easy for me to talk about, but I’ve kept it inside for so long, that suddenly I almostwantto tell him. It’s just that he knows my dad, obviously, and I sort of feel like I’m about to betray the man somehow. This will probably change Brenden’s view of him.

“My dad wasn’t one of the people celebrating that Andrew was gay. He’d roll his eyes whenever they wrote something about him in the paper. ‘Queer Teen Makes National Honors’ Society’ and stuff like that.”

To my surprise, Brenden lets out a short laugh. “Are you telling me youdidn’t roll your eyes at that?”

Yeah, he’s got me there, but that’s not the point.

“Sure, I did. But you need to understand, it was a lot for me to deal with back then. I realized I was probably gay, because checking out the girls in their cheerleader uniforms did absolutely nothing for me, but one glimpse of Ryan Hansen’s thighs in the locker room had me running away to hide my erection. The idea of being gay didn’t bother me. I just didn’t want to become another spectacle for this crazy town. Then I started noticing my dad’s attitude toward queerness. It wasn’t exactly the ideal environment for coming out. And, of course, I hadn’t actuallydoneanything with a guy yet, so a part of me was still questioning myself.”

When I finish this little speech, my words seem to linger in the brief silence that follows. I consider me and Brenden close, but I realize my idea of closeness is probably different than most people’s. I’ve never shared things this personal with him before.

Picking at the crust of his pizza, he finally says, “I understand questioning yourself. And even once you know, it shouldn’t be a requirement for anyone to come out. But I want to say something about your dad.”

He hesitates here, looking at me with imploring eyes and waiting for my nod before he continues. “I’ve been as out as can be from the day I moved to town, and your dad has never been anything but nice and friendly to me. It doesn’t seem like he treats me any differently than he treats anyone else.”

It’s true. My dad thinks he’s great. Honestly, sometimes I think he gets along with Brenden better than he gets along with me.

“I’m not saying he’s completely homophobic or anything.” At least, I can hope not. “But what if it’s different for him when it’s his own son?”

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