Page 33 of The Friend Scheme
“Um,” I say.
“Er, yeah, I’m not exactly straight. Surprise!”
WOW.
“Oh, um, cool,” I say.
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I mean, yeah. I think it’s cool. But, wait, how exactly do you identify?”
His eyes widen a little. “Um, I’m only into guys, or anyone who presents as male. So I usually go by gay, if Ihaveto label myself. I don’t really like doing that, though. It feels weird.”
I focus on the TV. I’m shaking. I lower my controller so he doesn’t notice.
“That’s awesome,” I say. “It’s not a big thing for me; I literally don’t think of you any different, by the way. But thanks for telling me.”
“No problem,” he says. “I just thought you should know. I’ve been trying to bring it up this whole time, actually.”
“Really? Why?”
“Let’s just say… I wanted you to know.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I think he’s flirting with me.
So now I have a hotgaydude sitting next to me. And he’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to tell him about myself.
Or maybe kiss him.
I have so many questions that I can’t ask.Doeshe know about me? Is this why he wanted me to know? Does he want me to tell him right now? Does he even know I’ve never told anyone?
A part of me wants me to come out to him. To just say fuck it and jump in. I think that’s what he wants, and his knowing would be kind of awesome.
I think about doing it… but then swerve away at the last second.
It’s too scary. I’m not ready.
“How was coming out?” I ask. “I’ve heard it’s, like, rough for some people.”
He maintains eye contact. “I won’t lie, it was scary. And it wasn’t great for a while. It was just… weird. I came out at fourteen.”
“Wait, fourteen? That’s so young.”
He leans back against the chair. “Eh, I’ve known pretty much my whole life, so it didn’t feel young to me. Anyway, my mom was fine, but Dad was a bit of a dick about it. I think he maybe thinks when I’m older I’ll straighten out, like this is some sort of trend I’m following.”
I lean back so we’re both up against the backrest. Our arms are so close to touching. His hand is resting on the couch. He has really pretty hands, with long, dainty fingers. There’s a freckle on his wrist. I wonder what it’d be like to circle it with my fingertips.
I glance up.
He’s so handsome.
And now I know he might be an option. Because I’m picking up a vibe that he would make out with me, if I went for it. But is that all he wants? To hook up with me?
I’d actually hate that. I’d rather have a friend.
I don’t want this to be a one-and-done type deal. Even if his lips are such a nice shade of pink and look sort of glossy right now. And even if I can see the curve of his muscles through his shirt.
I don’t want to be just a conquest for him.
