Page 21 of Something Good
He rolled his eyes. “You’re not my keeper, golden boy.”
“Maybe I should be.”
He snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up.”
“Maybe. But somebody needs to look out for you.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for years,” he scoffed.
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it by yourself.”
“So, what? We’re going to be friends? Text each other and hang out and shit?”
“Why not?”
He rolled his eyes. “The golden boy athlete and the dirty skater kid? Yeah, that wouldn’t raise eyebrows at all.”
“I don’t care.”
“Bullshit. You were practically crying over me holding your hand last night because you didn’t want anyone to know your big gay secret. Don’t tell me you don’t care what other people think.”
“We held hands last night?” I didn’t remember that.
“Jesus. Not really the point. I was just trying to keep your drunk ass upright. It wasn’t a stroll down the promenade.”
“Sammy! Get your ass out here!” Greasy Hulk called from the other room.
“Please just go.” Sammy’s eyes were pleading, but I wasn’t leaving without a promise that he’d text me.
“Give me your phone,” I repeated, my hand out, palm up.
“Fucking fine.” He pushed past me, grabbing the phone off the windowsill and yanking it off the charger. I took the phone from him, sent myself a message, and handed it back.
“I’m serious, Sammy. If you don’t text me later, I’ll come over here and beat your door down until I’m satisfied you’re okay.”
“God, you’re so fucking dramatic.” He dropped the phone into his pocket. “Will you go now?”
“I still need my keys and shoes.”
He retrieved my keys and handed them to me, then led me through the living room to the porch. Greasy Hulk appeared distracted by something in the kitchen as we passed, so thankfully didn’t say anything more to either of us.
Sammy pointed wordlessly to where my shoes sat on the corner of the porch.
“Why are my shoes out here?” I asked.
“Puke,” was his response before he turned back inside, shutting the door behind him and leaving me alone.
10
WILL
A shadow fellover me as I sat on one of the swings at Astaire Elementary. I looked up, squinting into the sun as Jason stood in front of me, holding out a cup of what I hoped was coffee.
Grateful, I took it from him, inhaling the blessed scent before taking a sip. Jason took the swing next to me, sipping his own coffee, while we sat for a moment in silence. The air hung heavy, my skin sticky despite the early time of day. Absently, I wondered if it was going to rain later.
“I’m gay.” My eyes widened, my own admission taking me by surprise. I imagined those five letters suspended in front of me, flapping in the breeze like a banner at a used car lot. Of all the things I thought I’d say to Jason this morning, coming out hadn’t been top of the list. But I supposed those words had been churning in my gut for so long that they’d just bubbled forth like a soda can that had been shaken before opening.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my shorts while the familiar weight of anxiety settled in my chest as I waited for his response. Now that the words were out there, I couldn’t take them back, didn’t really want to. But still…though we’d only reconnectedabout a month ago, Jason was my only real friend in Astaire. I didn’t want to fuck that up.
