Page 86 of Break the Rule
“Can I uh, shit.” Eden toys with his bracelet. “Can I ask about it?”
“What do you wanna know?” Andrew asks, in such a patient big brother tone that Eden feels tears prickle at his eyes with the realization that maybe one of the reasons Andrew feels so safe is because he’s the first queer person Eden’s let into his life that didn’t end up here because he wants to fuck Eden. Even Charlie is only here because he is attracted to Eden. But Andrew isn’t. He doesn’t want to have sex with Eden, and the relief is staggering.
“I know what asexuality is, obviously, but I’ve never actually…it’s just…Addy’s straight, and I just…there’s no one else,” he says, very softly. “I don’t know other queer people.”
“That must be lonely.”
“It is,” Eden admits, allowing himself to acknowledge it for the first time. He’s so grateful for Addy, but she’s not queer, and it occurs to Eden this is one more thing he never had. He knew early on he was different, and he’d thrown it in people’s faces because hiding it had only prolonged the inevitable rejection. Not having parents has been lonely. Not having a family hasbeen lonely. Not having friends has been lonely. Not having any queer community has been so fucking lonely.
“You’ve got us now,” Andrew tells him, sounding so much like he means it that Eden wonders if just maybe he can believe it.
Avoiding eye contact, Eden takes another chug of his energy drink before lowering the can to the table and dragging his thumb over the condensation on the side.
“You can ask me something else if you want,” Andrew says, as if reading his mind.
“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Eden mumbles, unused to caring how his words will be received. It’s different with Andrew though.
“Uncomfortable is my default,” Andrew laughs. Eden doesn’t laugh with him, lifting his gaze to meet Andrew’s. “I promise I’ll shut you down if you do though.”
“Did you always know you were ace?” Eden questions.
“Yes and no. I knew pretty early on I didn’t care about sex, but I thought other people were exaggerating when they joked about being sex-crazed, especially Charlie. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s kind of dramatic.”
“I’ve noticed,” Eden snorts.
“It wasn’t until high school, when everyone started hooking up and pairing off, that I kind of realized how very different I was. I’d always felt a bit like an alien, like me being born with Charlie was an accident. Like maybe he got all the things we were both supposed to have—charm and personality and talent—and I was just...there.” Andrew swallows. “That makes it sound like I resented him, but I didn’t. I loved him—I still do—but it wasn’t until other people wanted to love him too that I realized I was supposed to want that for myself. Charlie was very popular with everyone, and he loved it, and I…just wanted to read.”
“So you never wanted sex?” Eden marvels, unsure why that is so surprising. Maybe because his own life has been so defined by it.
“There was only one person I thought I might be kind of interested in once, but—let’s just say that didn’t work out well.”
“What happened?” Eden asks.
“It’s not that interesting.”
“I’d like to know,” Eden says, meaning every word.
“Okay.” Andrew takes a slow sip of his coffee, staring at the last bit of it in his mug while he begins speaking. “In high school, me and Charlie had a pretty big friend group, but that’s because everyone liked Charlie. I was just kind of included by proximity you know. But there was one guy who used to take extra time to talk to me, even when Charlie wasn’t around. I ended up helping him study, filling out his college applications…we spent a lot of time senior year together and I thought—it was stupid, but I thought he really liked me. Turns out he had a thing for Charlie, and I was kind of the next best thing since I looked like him. He thought it was like getting Charlie, but someone to do his homework too, only joke was on him because when he wanted to fuck, and I didn’t… he, well—let’s just say he wasn’t shy with his words.”
“What the fuck?” Eden spits, more pissed off at this random person from Andrew’s past than he’s ever been at anyone.
“It’s fine, Eden. Really. He wasn’t the first person who wanted me because they couldn’t have Charlie and thought I’d do. He was just the first to try and do something about it.” Andrew looks calm, which somehow makes Eden even more angry. “The things he said kinda fucked with me for a few years. I spent the summer after high school trying to just have sex and be like Charlie, but it just made me deeply unhappy. It wasn’t until I realized I was ace to kind of be like, okay I’m not broken.”
Not broken.
Those two words simultaneously break and heal something in Eden.
“One of my foster placements knew I was gay before I did. Or they assumed because I liked to sneak into her makeup and dresses. But the way they said it—with hate—the label didn’t feel validating. It felt like another thing to be put in my file.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Andrew says, and though Eden knows this logically, it feels different to hear it. “Sometimes other people use labels to try and make sense of us when they don’t know where we fit. The same labels that are meant to validate and uplift can feel like a brand. But no one should ever make you feel bad about who you are, Eden.”
“You always been so wise?” Eden grumbles, uncomfortable with how emotional he suddenly feels.
“It comes with therapy and being old,” Andrew laughs. “Me and Charlie are practically ancient in queer years.”
“Speak for yourself,” Charlie pipes up, startling Eden when he walks into the kitchen. He didn’t even hear him approach, which is unusual for Eden whose senses are usually on high alert. “I’m not old.”
“Since you’re the same age as me, I’ll have to beg to differ.”
