“Sure.”
I pull out my phone, and sync it to my Bluetooth speaker. I find the song, and hit play. It’s a song called “Mulholland Drive” by the Gaslight Anthem. To me, it feels like how the movie feels. And I love it for that.
The chorus hits. It goes: Oh that I’d just die if you ever took your love away.
“Damn, nice,” he says, nodding his head along. “I like it. He sounds so desperate.”
“Dude, that’s exactly why I like it!”
“Nice. You have such cool taste in music; I’m so jealous.”
I sit down on my desk chair, and he sits down on the edge of my bed. He kind of lounges, which I really like. It’s as if he’s already super comfortable here.
“What music do you like?” I ask. “Sorry, that’s such a broad question. I’ll narrow it down: What’s your favorite band?”
“I don’t really know. I feel like I haven’t come across any I like that much. I like this, though.”
“That’s exciting,” I say. “That means they’re still out there, for you to find.”
He smiles. “I’ve never thought about it that way. That is pretty exciting.”
“In the meantime, though, what do you listen to?”
I have a moment where I realize this is happening. There he is. Sitting on my bed, like he’s done this a bunch of times. I have a friend over. This is so cool.
“I usually just listen to the playlists Spotify makes for me,” he says. “I’m not really a big music guy.” He shrugs. “Sorry. I know you are.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry. I’m not one of those people who expects people to like everything I like. I hope I don’t seem like I am.”
“No, you don’t. You seem very cool.”
He smiles. God, he’s so cute.
“I’m glad.”
He quirks his head to the side and then pushes up off my bed and goes over to my bookshelf. He scans it.
“Harry Potter, nice,” he says. “The Game of Thrones series, too.”
“Yep.”
He taps the top of the shelf and looks around.
“I really do love your room,” he says. “It feels like, yours, you know?”
I lean back against my chair. “Yours doesn’t?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Can’t say. It’s a family thing.”
“Oh, right.”
That kind of lingers between us. I get the idea he wants to change the subject pretty badly. For the first time since he got here, he looks uncomfortable.
“Did you want to play some Smash Bros.?” I ask.
“Dude, yes! I love Smash Bros.!”
“Me too.”
We walk back to the living room and sit down on the couch. He sits fairly close to me. Not close enough to touch, but still. I grab the remote from the coffee table and turn on the TV. I feel very aware of the space I’m taking up, and the space between us.
He seems to like getting close to me.
I’m not complaining, but I wish I knew why he was doing it. If he’s gay, it’d make sense. But if he’s straight and just messing with me … I’d hate it.
Jason bounces up and down. I watch him.
“What?” he says. “It’s really comfy.”
“Okay.”
I glance at the front door. I’m kind of freaking out that we could get walked in on at any second by Dad or Luke. And then I’ll have to explain why I didn’t just say I was having a friend over.
And why we’re sitting so close together.
I think my lying will make them think I’m keeping a secret about Jason.
I don’t know if it’ll make them think I’m gay.
But it might. Because, seriously, he’s so close to me right now.
And I’m not stupid. Something is going on here. Right? Or maybe I just really want that to be the case. Ugh. I just wish I knew what he wants.
I load the game and hand him a controller. Our hands touch. It feels deliberate.
But it can’t be. If Jason is gay, there’s no way he’d be into me. He’d be into someone cool … not a guy he found freaking out in a bathroom in an ill-fitting suit. He’d be into someone, like him, who’d charge into the water, not someone who has to google shark attacks before going in. He’d like someone bold and cool. So not me.
The game starts, and we both go to select the same character: Pokémon Trainer.
“Are they your favorite?” he asks.
“Yeah. Yours too?”
“Yep. I can be Lucario, though, I love him almost as much.”
It’s kind of a deep cut, when it comes to Super Smash Bros. and Pokémon. I love that. He switches to Lucario.
And then we fight.
* * *
It takes about an hour for the nerves to completely settle.
Together, Jason and I have demolished an entire pepperoni pizza and two loaves of garlic bread. We also each had a can of Coke Zero Sugar, which I found out he likes as much as I do.
I’ve lost every single match. He’s way too good at this game.
And I don’t even care.
I feel full, and happy, and like I’ve settled into a comfortable groove with him. Like we’ve been friends for ages and we’re just hanging out.
I’ve wanted something like this for so long. An actual friend.
Right now, we’re selecting our characters. For the first time, I pick Link.
“Oh, nice,” he says. “I love Link. I had the biggest crush on him when I was a kid.”
HOLD UP.
“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 I have to 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 hot gay dude 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. Does he 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 i
t 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.
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. Girls are 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 and how 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 play Smash 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.”
The game finally starts. It feels like the most intense of all our fights so far. But the whole time, I’m thinking about him having a crush on Link.
The fight ends, with him just winning. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to winning so far.
“Nice work,” he says. “You nearly had me.”
A fluttery feeling fills my stomach.
Eddie barks, and then runs over to the door. I freeze.
No.
No no no no no.
This can’t be happening.
But it is.
Headlights flash in through the windows at the front of the house.
Someone’s home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What’s wrong?” asks Jason.
My mind is racing, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this.
I look at the coffee table, and see the remnants of our hangout. Two empty, but clearly used, glasses are sitting on it. I’ll need to hide one of them. And, obviously, think about something to do with the hot tall guy currently sitting beside me.
“Someone’s here,” I say as I turn off the TV. I stand up and grab one of the cups. “Follow me.”
“What?”
“We have our deal,” I say. “Unless you want to find out who I am, you need to come with me. Please.”
“Oh, shit, okay.”
He stands up. He’s not moving fast enough, so I take hold of his wrist and run him through the house to my room. I look around. Under the bed won’t work, it’s too obvious. I have a window, but it has a bolted-in, bulletproof metal fly screen. Nobody is coming in or out of it.
I realize I’m still hanging on to his wrist.
I let go. As I do, I glance at my closet. It’s perfect.
Jason crosses his arms and tilts his head up. “Really?”
“I’m so sorry. It won’t be for long. I’ll think of something, just, hide.”
I open the sliding door, and then push aside some of my clothes. Because Jason is so tall, it’s going to be cramped, but it’ll have to do.
He frowns.
But then he steps inside, bowing his head to do so. “I hope you appreciate the irony of this. I come out to you, and then you shove me right back in a closet.”
He grins.
I wish I could find this amusing, but I’m way too freaked to find anything funny right now.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper. “I thought they wouldn’t come home, I swear.”
“It’s cool, it happens.”
I wonder what that means as I slide the door shut. I take a step back and look. He’s perfectly hidden.
Okay, phew.
I run back down the hall and dump the cup in the sink, just in time for the door to open. There are still two controllers sitting on the couch. Maybe they won’t notice, but it definitely still looks like two people have been playing.
Luke steps inside.
“What’s wrong with you?” he says, coming straight up to me. “Why don’t you answer your fucking phone?”
“What?”
I guess I haven’t checked it in a while, I was too busy with Jason.
I pull my phone out and check. The screen is full of notifications. Ten missed calls from him, along with a bunch of messages. I had it on silent, like I always do. I guess I was so distracted by Jason I never thought to check it.
“I…”
Then I notice Luke’s eyes are red.
He closes the distance and hugs me tight. I can’t even recall the last time he did this. Is this because of Jason? Surely this isn’t how he’d be reacting if he knew about what I was doing.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Luke sniffs. Wait, is he crying? I check, and he’s only just managing to keep it together.
“It’s Dad,” he says. “Matt, he’s…”
“What is it? Just tell me.”
“He’s been shot.”
No. No way.
This must be a prank. A terrible, awful prank.
“He’s okay,” says Luke. “Well, he’s not. He’s in surgery now. Apparently that’s a good thing, they don’t operate on people they don’t think have a chance, right? But you know Dad, he’s tough, he’s not going to…”
Die.
That’s the end of that sentence.
Holy shit.
“Everyone else is at the hospital,” says Luke. “People kept asking why you weren’t there, so I came to get you. Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Maybe grab a sweater, it’s cold inside.”
I nod and run back to my room. I close the door behind me. I feel like crying, but I can’t. Not until I’ve dealt with the Jason mess. I hardly even care abo
ut it right now, though.
My dad’s been shot.
It must’ve been the Donovans. It doesn’t feel real, it’s that horrible. He’s been in the hospital, fighting for his life, and I’ve been here, with Jason. I open the closet door.
“What’s going on?” says Jason. “I heard shouting.”
“Nothing, it’s fine. Well, it’s not. We’re about to go out. Just wait, I’ll text you when we’re out of the house. Go out the front door, lock it behind you. Okay?”
“Sure, but…”
I grab my black hoodie from beside him. Jason is watching me, unblinking.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Don’t worry about it. This has nothing to do with you, I promise.”
“Dude, talk to me.”
“It’s a family thing, so I shouldn’t, right? That’s our deal.”
His face falls. “Oh, okay. Up to you, man.”
I slide the door shut again, then I go back to the living room. Luke’s already gone outside. I lock the door behind me, and go down to Luke’s car. It’s a black Ford Mustang convertible that he got for his eighteenth birthday. It’s his pride and joy, along with Eddie.
I climb into the passenger seat and pull on my seat belt.
Luke spins the car out onto the road and then steps on the gas.
We drive in silence. The radio is playing some crappy pop song about generic true love.
Barf.
“Hey,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to slow down.”
He was starting to speed. Only just, but I noticed it.
“You’re right,” he says. “Sorry.”
He’s clearly messed up. I am, too. But I don’t think it’s properly hit me yet. My dad is supposed to be untouchable, the strongest one out of all of us.
If they can get him …
I know this is his war. After Grandad died, Dad is the one who spearheaded the charge to fight the Donovans. I do know that most of us wanted some form of retaliation. Still, I get a sense sometimes that not everyone is okay with the fact that it’s turned into an all-out war.
I hate thinking this, but maybe this will be a sign he needs to stop the fighting.
That would honestly be such a relief.
I can’t believe I’m thinking it, though. I should hate the Donovans more than I ever have.
Up ahead, I can see Mercy Hospital. The parking lot is a massive tower, and the words “MERCY” are in dark blue neon on the side. Between the “M” and the “E” is a cross, which feels a little bit over-the-top to me, but whatever.
The Friend Scheme Page 6
