Page 15 of Make Me Pretty
“You’re not going to fucking believe this,” I start with. I can’t tell Gabe everything, maybe. Probably not. But I also don’t think I can keep all this shit inside anymore. It’s gonna kill me if I do, and maybe… I don’t know, maybe he can be the one to talk some sense into me, because at this point, giving in to Abel seems to be the better path at my crossroads.
And I know he won’t judge me, so that’s what I hold on to.
He perks up instantly, though his eyes are still wary. Probably ‘cause he just watched me cackle like a hyena for no reason whatsoever. But Gabe being the person he is—chill, rich, and spoiled, buttrulygood—he doesn’t comment on my behavior. Instead, he switches tones into something easier, more in line with the basis of our friendship. “Spill, dude. By the look on your face, it’s gonna be good.”
“You’re shitting me,”he deadpans.
My hair, now damp with sweat, flops in front of my eyes. I tug it back and tuck it behind my ears with a sigh. “I wish I was.”
“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up at the sky. I copy his movement, watching the dense, gray clouds float across a pale blue expanse. “That’s insane. What a crazy little shit.”
I snort at his apt rendition of Abel. “Apparently, the universe hates me.”
“Ohh, so we’re blaming theuniversenow?” he mocks me.
“Fuck off. I’m serious. I can’t do this, Gabe. He…” I yank at my hair, “drives me nuts,” I finish lamely.
“Well… yeah, I’d be feeling pretty insane if I had to deal with him like that, too. Besides, heisyour foster brother now, and brothers are supposed to be annoying. Not that I would know.” I snort at the term foster brother. If there is one thing we’renot,it’s that.
“Are brothers supposed to want to fuck?” I blurt without thinking, but the second the words leave my mouth, my stomach sinks straight into my ass. Gabe’s dark eyebrows disappear behind his mop of hair, lips pursing out into a pucker. My face blanches while burning simultaneously.Fuckfuckfuck.
I yank on my hair until my scalp stings. “What I meant was you wouldn’t know what it’s like—being an only child who gets whatever he wants.”
He blinks. Again. And then, his lips curve up. “So, you want to fuck him then?”
My teeth clack as they slam together, hands fisting in my lap.Too close.“Gabe,” I growl out—a low warning. He doesn’t give a shit.
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “No, dude. You don’t get to play that off. I had a feeling just now when you started talking about the shit Abel’s been pulling with you, but you neversaid?—”
“There’s nothing to say,” I spit.Liar.
Gabriel purses his lips before leaning back across the wooden planks, resting his weight on his palms. “I get it,” he says after a long pause.
I glance up, trying to read his face, but even with the sun’s rays gleaming across his brown skin, glistening with beads of sweat, I can’t make out what he’s thinking.
“What is it that youget?” I sound pissy and petulant, but I can’t help the way my heart thumps heavily at the base of my throat, stomach twisted in a knot tighter than one at the base of a fishing lure.
“The internalized homophobia,” Gabe answers nonchalantly. Like that very statement doesn’t flip my entire world right on its axis.
“Excuse me?” I balk, rearing back. He doesn’t even bother opening his fucking eyes.
“I think you heard me just fine, Peris.” He finally cracks open an eyelid. “And I’m saying I get where you’re coming from. Well, not exactly?—”
“No, you fucking don’t.”
“Hey,” he barks, sitting up, face twisted into a hurt-filled sneer. “Don’t snap at me. I’m here. I’m listening. But I’m also not a fucking punching bag, and I have my own feelings and opinions. So shut up and let me say what I need to say.”
Venom slithers up my throat, poised at the tip of my tongue, but the look on Gabe’s face keeps it there. With a grunt, I wave my hand. “All right, fine. Say it.”
“Good. Thank you. Anyway, like I was saying. I don’t entirely get it, but I do think you have a reason for feeling the way you do. WhatIwant to tell you is it’s okay to be who you are. I don’t know if anyone’s ever said that to you before, but I think everyone can do with hearing it at least once.
“I know we don’t talk about shit like this, but I do appreciate you telling me. Abel sounds like a shithead. Obviously, all I know is what I’ve heard at school and what you’ve told me, but just remember, you don’t have to fold and take anyone’s shit. Youcan be nice,” he says with a roll to his eyes, “but you’re not a pushover.” He rolls his lips between his teeth.
“And if it helps you with whatever feelings are surfacing, I’m pan,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
All my thoughts come screeching to a halt at that cavalier admission from my best friend.
“You’re… pan?” I parrot, dragging my sweaty palms over my thighs. “Like, pansexual?”
