Page 34 of The Friend Scheme
I want to be more than that.
Oh God, I’m so glad nobody can hear my thoughts.
“That’s so stupid,” I say quietly. I think we’ve both forgotten about the game. “He should realize it doesn’t work like that.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t. Trust me, I know.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It sucks that your dad makes you feel like that.”
He nods. “Thanks for being cool. You can never tell with guys. Girlsare pretty much always fine with it, but with guys, it’s a total crapshoot.”
“Did you just make a gambling reference? Are you sure you’re gay?”
“Shut up!”
He laughs and pushes me. His hand rests on my stomach for a second too long.
“But, yeah, I’m very sure,” he says. “Guys just do it for me. They make me feel like I’m, like, on fire. It’s that intense.”
I glance down. It feels like a barrier has been broken.
That touching each other is okay now.
The moment passes. The walls go back up.
“Wait,” I say. “What about your baseball team?”
“I told you I play baseball?”
I nod. I feel a little busted. He only told me once, and I remembered. I’m not sure if that’s weird.
I’m sure stuff like that will give away my sexuality. And if he knows about me, then we might make out or something. Which would be great.
But risky.
What if we don’t click romantically? That’d be the end of things. And I’ve never been kissed. Not even once. What if I’m not good at it? Right away, at least.
“Um, yeah,” I say. “You did. Or was it basketball?”
“No, you were right the first time. Good memory. But yeah, the team seems fine with it. I think they have to be; they know how much trouble they’d get into if they said anything homophobic.” He stares off into the distance, clearly remembering something. “After I came out my coach did a whole speech about how we’re a team andhow our personal lives shouldn’t impact that. I normally don’t like being fussed over, but that was pretty great.”
I can picture it now. Him, blushing, while his coach grills his team.
“Anyway,” he says. “Now that’s out there, let’s playSmash Bros.I mean the game, by the way, in case your mind is in the gutter.”
I freeze, my eyes wide.
“I’m just messing with you,” he says, and he nudges my leg with his. “No need to freak.”
“Sorry. I’m just getting used to it. I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
“You’re not secretly a homophobe, are you?”
“No.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Cool.”
