Page 55 of Maybe
Later that night, I phoned Ed and Saffy before heading into to work. Perhaps I was using them as a second test run before broaching the trickiest of tricky conversations with my mother. I didn’t know what to expect from the twins, except that dropping subtle hints and expecting those two space cadets to join the dots was like tossing a feather into the Grand Canyon and waiting to hear the echo.
And yet—I couldn’t quite bring myself to spell out the bald facts. I wasn’t seeking their permission as such, and certainly not their approval either. More of a nebulous, but vaguely positive response towards the middle of a scale withoh my God, our brothers are shagging; that’s repulsiveat one end, andwow, we always hoped you two lost souls would get it togetherbookending the other. I craved reassurance that they’d love me regardless, which was needy and pathetic but, yeah, if the cap fit.
As I punched in Saffy’s number, it struck me I wasn’t sure they even knew/realised/cared (delete as appropriate) that I was gay. From the hullabaloo, I’d apparently phoned them in the middle of a wrestling match.
“Nah, that’s just Ed’s freshman roommate, Hunter, goofing around with a baseball.”
How you know your sib is studying at a US college, in one easy sentence. “Aren’t baseballs really hard?”
“Yes, but he’s only cracked one window. He’s letting off a bit of steam. He’s been dumped by some guy who was two-timing him with a burlesque dancer.”
Wow, to think we’d grown up under the same roof. Saffy laughed. “I told him he should come over to England and date you instead! I mentioned you were a hot, gay, rich doctor, so now he’s trying to sound more cultured by practising his British accent. Basically, he spends all day watching Peppa Pig.”
The last part was lost on me, reeling at how casually Saffy slipped my homosexuality into the conversation and had already divulged it to a complete stranger. Whereas I generally revealed my sexual orientation like a bargain-basement stripper shed their clothing: to rows of empty chairs. Seems I’d been more transparent over recent years than I realised. Only a handful of people knew or cared, and yet here was Saffy, sweeping over it like it was a given. Matchmaking me with a gay American college student whose name sounded like he manufactured Wellington boots.
“Not too sure about the hot part.” I was glad she couldn’t see the blush spreading into the roots of my hair. “And I… uh… well, I might not be single much longer.”
A very un-British congratulatory whoop had me jerking the phone away from my ear, followed by Saffy yelling to Hunter (making me pull the phone away even further) to put a sock in it because she was talking to her brother. Which was a very un-American way of telling him to be quiet. It must have failed to translate, judging from thethwack, thwackof a hard spherical object smacking into something not especially robust.
“And...?” she demanded excitedly. “Tell me more?”
Blushing harder, beads of sweat broke out across my forehead. “I’m seeing quite a lot of… um… Ezra.”
“Eh?” She hummed, nonplussed. “Ezra? Should I know him? Did you go to med school with him? I’m not sure if I know any blokes called Ezra. Except for our Ezra, of course.”
Our Ezra. Oh fuck. An overwhelming urge to crawl under a rock engulfed me, and the hope someone then ran over it in a car. I was going to have to spell it out. Was there any greater agony?
“I meant our Ezra,” I croaked. “I’m—“ My larynx felt clogged with sawdust. “Me and Ezra are… we’re… he… I…”
“What?” she interrupted. “You’re what? Spit it out, Isaac, I’ve got a tutorial starting in fifteen minutes across the other side of campus.”
“We’re… um… well, we’re probably going to… um… have a relationship.”
“Wh-a-a-t?” Saffy’s screech reached way beyond the other side of campus. Possibly as far as the adjoining state of Arizona. “You’re fuckingEzra? Ezra Fitz-Henry?OurEzra Fitz-Henry?”
“I don’t think there’s another one?” I answered lamely. “And we’re not yet?—”
“Ed!” she hollered. “Ed! Get here. Now! Isaac and Ezra are shagging each other!”
“Technically speaking, we’re not…actually?—“
“Isaac’s what?” Ed’s voice took over. “Jeez. That’s fucking… him and Ezra?Our Ezra?”
“Please don’t put the phone down,” I begged, though neither of them was listening to me anymore. At the top of her lungs, Saffy gave this Hunter guy a potted version of the Fitz-Henryfamily tree, whilst Ed swore in a very British way, then sounded as if he was quite literally pissing himself laughing.
Fuck my life. “We’re not yet?—“
“Jeez, Isaac.Ezra?Dad will be spinning in his grave.”
More like trying to climb out of it to hunt me down and give me a piece of his mind.For heaven’s sake,Isaac, do you have to be so stupid constantly? Can’t you engage that smart brain for once?
Saffy re-entered the conversation. “Have you told Mum?”
Ed snorted with laughter. “I bet he hasn’t. Have you told Mum, Isaac? Omg! Hunter! Get this! He still hasn’t told our mother!”
“No wayyyy!” Hunter had a voice like a cowboy. Perhaps he did deal in welly boots. “Sounds like he’s gonna get his ass tanned real good! Way to go, dude!”
Oh joy. If nothing else, my fucked-up and currently non-existent sex life was keeping a random gay college boy distracted from heartbreak.
