I bite back the sarcastic retort on the tip of my tongue. He’s not wrong. Thanks to him, I don’t have to redo hours of research and plead my case with the professor to allow a late submission.
“I appreciate your help,” I say sincerely. “You’re an honest-to-God hero.”
A light blush stains Gerard’s cheeks, and the tips of his ears turn adorably pink. He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly shy as can be. “Nah, I’m no hero. Just a guy who wants to know if his friend wants me to carry his books to class?”
My heart skips a beat at the word “friend.” It’s such a simple term, yet coming from Gerard’s lips, it’s a promise of something more. A connection, a bond, a thread tying us together in this world of college life.
Do I want Gerard to be my friend? The logical part of my brain screams,No. I’ve gotten so comfortable in my little bubble with Jackson and Sarah. They understand me and never push me beyond my boundaries. It’s safe. Familiar. Predictable.
Being friends with Gerard would be an adventure, though. He’d probably drag me to hockey games and force me to socializewith his rowdy teammates. It would be terrifying, exhilarating, and everything in between.
And yet, even as I contemplate the possibility of friendship, a traitorous part of my heart dares to dream of more. It imagines Gerard’s strong arms wrapped around me and his soft, plump lips pressed against mine.
No, I can’t go there. No matter how badly I want to, I can’t let myself fall for the charming hockey player. But as I gaze into his bright blue eyes, I nod. “Sure, you can carry my books. But don’t think this means we’re best friends now.”
Gerard’s face splits into a grin. “Of course not. We’re two guys walking to class, one of them carrying books. Totally casual.”
He winks at me, and my cheeks heat up.Damn him and his effortless charm.I thrust my books into his waiting hands and do my best to ignore how my skin tingles where it brushes against his.
Gerard takes a peek at my books. Today, I have the bright blueIntroduction to Human Sexuality. The dull grayCalculus for Masochist. Also, the slim yet deceptively denseA History of Western Philosophy.
“Quite the eclectic mix you’ve got here.” He shifts the stack of books in his muscular arms, biceps flexing beneath his tight T-shirt as we set forth to my first class. “Introduction to Human Sexuality, huh? Sounds…stimulating.”
I nearly choke on my saliva at his choice of words.Is he trying to kill me with innuendo?“It’s a fascinating class, believe it or not. We learn about the biological, psychological, and sociocultural aspects of human sexual behavior.”
Gerard nods, genuinely intrigued. “And how does that compare to the thrills ofCalculus for Masochists?”
“Oh, you know, derivatives and integrals really get my motor running,” I deadpan. “But I have to say, pondering the great philosophical questions inA History of Western Philosophyis what keeps me up at night. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“Of course,” Gerard chuckles. His gaze lingers on the brightly colored sexuality textbook. “So, which one’s your favorite?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Intro to Human Sexuality, hands down. It’s opened my eyes to a lot of new perspectives and challenges a lot of assumptions people have.” A smile tugs at my lips as I reflect further on the subject. “For example, did you know that sexual orientation exists on a spectrum? It’s not only gay or straight—there’s a whole range of possibilities in between.”
Gerard hums thoughtfully. “The Kinsey Scale, right?”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wait, you know about the Kinsey Scale? I’m impressed.”
He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “I may be a jock, but I’m not a total meathead. Also, the hockey team is more diverse than you might think.”
I let that revelation sink in for a moment. I knew about Oliver, but the idea that some of BSU’s other star hockey players fall somewhere on the sexuality spectrum is both surprising and strangely comforting. Knowing others grapple with similar questions and experiences makes me feel less alone.
“That’s cool,” I say sincerely. “I think it’s important for people to be open and honest about who they are, you know? Even if it’s not always easy.”
Gerard nods, his expression growing more serious. “Definitely. It takes a lot of courage to be true to yourself, especially when the world isn’t always accepting.” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “I admire that about you, Elliot. You don’t try to be someone you’re not.”
A flush creeps up my neck at the unexpected compliment. “I…thanks. I try, anyway. But some days are harder than others.”
“I get that.”
Our conversation trickles into silence. Above us, the breeze rustles the leaves overhead. Around us, students scurry to class. A few smile at Gerard when they notice him, but he doesn’t return the favor. He’s lost in thought, his brow furrowing slightly as he wrestles with some internal dilemma. He takes a deep breath, and his broad chest rises and falls with the motion.
“Can I tell you something?” His voice is uncharacteristicallyserious, and his usual sunny disposition becomes pensive. “Something personal?”
“Of course,” I reply, my curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”
Gerard’s blue eyes meet mine. They’re filled with nervousness but also determination. “It’s about my dad. He’s…he’s bisexual.”
I almost trip. I was not expecting that revelation. “Oh. Wow. That’s…thank you for telling me.”