CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Noah
Telling Finn I wasn’t sure how my parents would react was a cop-out. I know the answer: terrible.
Because I remember being in high school. I remember my mother warning me about one of my friends being a bad influence. Since Terry was the only one of my friends who had never even tried alcohol and since his grades were consistent As, I knew it was because of his demeanor. About the fact that everyone could tell that he was gay, just when he was speaking, just something in how he dressed and how he smiled and how he laughed, even when he’d never dated before.
My stomach flips.
My parents must have heard the news. I need to call them. I need to tell them that all their fears for me became correct.
My heart skitters, and I want to delay this forever. But the word is out. I want Finn to hold my hand while I call them, but that’s impossible. Finn doesn’t really like men, and he knows I know that. And I can’t introduce Finn to them with the same casualness with which he introduced me to his Mom. Finn’s Mom lives in Boston.
Because Vinnie was right. There aren’t that many people in my tiny rural community, and anyone who preferred men left long ago for one of the coastal cities. I don’t think my parents know anyone who is in a same-sexrelationship, and I don’t want them to be upset at Finn.
I turn to Finn. “Can I have some privacy?”
His face twists, but he nods. “Of course.”
He leaves the room quietly, shutting the door with care. It’s all I can do to not run after him.
Instead, I stare at my phone, my heart doing crazy things it doesn’t normally do when I look at the glossy rectangle. Finally, I call.
My mother answers on the first ring, and I remind myself that this is good.
“Hi Mom,” I say, trying to make my voice casual, even though my heart thunders.
I want her to be okay with this. I need her to be okay.
“How was your game today?” Mom asks. “I saw you play!”
“It was fine, Mom.”
Silence fills the air. My breath is too heavy. I can hear the dishwasher clatter from our house in New Hampshire.
I wonder if she’s going to bring up the news, or if she’s waiting to see if I will tell her. Sweat prickles my skin, and my grip on my phone loosens.
“So, um, you may have read something on some gossip sites. I think it was on the news. I, um, think the announcers spoke about it too during the game.”
My mother laughs, and hope moves through me. “Don’t worry, honey, I didn’t believe that.”
“You didn’t?”
“You’re not gay. I don’t know where they get these crazy ideas.”
My mouth dries, and I try to inhale, but there seems to be a sudden oxygen deficiency in the room. I want to laugh along with her, but I can’t.
Finn and I are going to pretend to be married, pretend to the whole world we are in love, and our plan will collapse if I assure my mother that none of this is real.
Because, to be honest, it could be real.
Not with Finn, of course, the man is heterosexual. But maybe with someone else. Maybe someone else could push me onto the bed and do all the things I imagine when I’m in the safety of my room, tucked under the covers in the dark. Maybe a deep voice would rumble beside me, telling me that I’m amazing, even though I’m not, and maybe strong arms would hold me. More than hold me.
And, oh God, I shouldn’t be thinking about gay sex when I’m speaking to my mother on the phone. Maybe I shouldn’t have broken up with Abby. Maybe I shouldn’t have let myself unravel, until I’m unsure of who I am and what I want.
“The thing is, Mom,” I begin, my voice halting and unfamiliar, “it’s true.”
Silence greets me. I can imagine my mother frowning, sitting down.
