I manage to not bring it up when Dillon finally sets up a tutoring session. Well, kind of. He said I wasn’t his bro, which feels bad. The same chatbot that suggested I apologize with specifics also said I should ask Dillon follow up questions about shit he’s already brought up. It steered me right the last time, so after a full hour of being a loyal study dog I try out one of the friendship-building tactics.
“You and Viera are still friends, huh? Is that weird in the, you know, queer community here?”
Dillon looks at me like I grew a second head. “Cris is the only other one who didn’t know. And was also getting cheated on.”
“Yeah, you said. No, I just mean, like…who do you, like, date? If you’re mad at everyone.” I’m showing compassion and an interest in his life. Good job, me.
“It’s not the first thing on my mind, which is maybe why my grades are better than yours,” Dillon retorts.
“My friend Aaron chose the only out gay guy in the whole school, even though he was on the football team and probably could have, like, hooked up with anybody. But I guess that little fairy was the best option,” I explain. “I’m just wondering if he and you were in the same boat. But you’re not dating Viera, right?”
“No, and don’t call him a fairy.”
“Sorry.” Good for me for apologizing in the moment. “But seriously, there has to be another option. Somebody less girly.”
“Still rude. You’d think that if Aaron was such a good friend that you’d try to be nice to his boyfriend,” Dillon comments sharply.
"He just irritated me, that he was so—" I mimic Crispin's hand movements.
"Okay, I get it, stop." Dillon shakes his head. "God, Jay, sometimes you don't seem like a real human being. You're more like a character out of some anti-bullying PSA."
What a shitty thing to say. "The hell?"
He ticks my sins off his fingers. "You were an actual, physical bully. You use homophobic slurs. Even though one of your best friends came out, you discriminate more against the guy who's more femme and Latino. Hand me the book."
I do as Dillon asks, but I have to defend myself. "He was a genuine prick to me, though! Like, we had a lot of classes together, and every time I got something wrong, fucking Crispin would make fun of me."
Dillon's whole vibe gets a little nicer.
"Then, if I got something right, there'd come his fucking comment, something about how 'it speaks!' or compare me to a dog that presses buttons to talk."
"So it's not that he's gay, it's that you don't like his personality," Dillon clarifies. "That's okay."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! Like, if you can seriously not get along with someone without bringing their sexuality into it at all, that's not homophobic."
I think on it for a second. “Maybe I’m a little homophobic.”
Dillon laughs, like belly laughs, at my realization. “Now that you know, you can do better.”
“I’m dumb as shit and a homophobe,” I groan. “This is a fucking bummer.”
“I can help you study,” Dillon promises, “but you gotta do the work on that other stuff.”
“At least I’m not racist, right?”
“Well…” and Dillon’s gaze slides away again, and I’m not sure if I’m laughing or crying.
“I gotta read some books,” I groan.
“The Black Student Union and the LGBTQIA+ Alliance both have lending libraries.”
I wonder a little bit if Kayleigh would notice me borrowing stuff.
I’m home for Fall Break and pulling up to the grocery store because my mom forgot to get me Nerds Gummy Clusters.
It takes a second to recognize him because I guess I didn’t expect to see someone going to school so far away, but one of my high school buddies is walking out as I’m walking in.
"Aaron!"
His bright brown eyes shine. "Oh my god, hey!"
I pull him into a hug; I don't even care. I haven’t seen Aaron since the last graduation party (LeAndre’s, I think) and he’s grown a beard and filled out in a way that looks good on him. “Holy shit, man! What are you doing home?”
“Lacey’s birthday,” he answers. Then he shrugs, looks sad for a second, and goes, “They’re letting me come to the family party, so…”
Fuck. I forgot that Aaron’s parents basically told him to quit being gay. I don’t have anything to say to that, so I change the subject.
"Did you see LeAndre on the Gatorade ad? Isn't that fucked up? Guy never took a picture in high school. Now he's a fuckin' model."
Aaron grins. "He does have crazy bone structure. Like, nobody in real life should be that hot. We can't handle it. We spend all our time trying to be LeAndre."
I laugh. I never understood why Aaron wasn't more popular. I mean, I know that chicks supposedly have better gaydar than dudes, but that never stopped a determined cheerleader. B-E Aggressive, after all. He's funny, he was always really smart, and he looks like an actor who always plays the hero's smartass best friend.
"So how you been?"
He just grins. "You probably don't want to hear it."
I fold my arms. "Dude, give me some credit. My lab partner is gay."
"Good for you," Aaron says back, but he does that thing where the side of his mouth pulls a little, like he's trying not to smile. Come to think of it, he did that way more last year than in the whole time I've known him. Ugh, that fucking Viera .
“So, what,” I ask, “you get drafted onto the Berkley team after all?”
A wide, proud grin appears on my friend’s face. "No, Crispin and I are together. Back together."
"Ugh."
"I told you, you didn't want to hear it."
I wave a hand. "It's not that he's a dude, dude. It's that it's fucking Crispin."
Aaron narrows his eyes. "Well, I feel like a motherfucking adult for having resolved our distance issues and feelings. So, congratulate me."
I laugh. "Congratulations, motherfucker. Are you still staying with his folks?"
"Yeah. It's weird how cool they are with me."
"Probably because their own kid is such , a f—" I reword when Aaron gives me a warning look "—fierce queen."
He socks me in the shoulder. "Did your gay lab partner teach you that?"
“Yes. And I’m sorry you had to catch me; I’ve been doing some reading.”
“Okay, you can’t sound so smug about it,” Aaron laughs at me.
I shove him lightly. “Shut up, white boy.”
“You shut up, white boy!”
“I’m trying to be understanding, here. I just don’t, like…I don’t fucking get it. When did you—” I lower my voice as other people pass us, “like, when did you even know? Like, toddler age?"
Aaron shakes his head. "Naw, man. For me it was maybe in the beginning of seventh grade. Puberty."
None of us had noticed? Damn. "But how, even? Was it like, you were suddenly all about banging dudes?"
He laughs. "Certain dudes, yeah. I just started noticing things about them that I hadn't before, like the way they stood, or smelled. Maybe other guys notice that stuff, but…I don't know, it turned into crushes. Like I wanted to be around that person all the time, and make him laugh, and make him admire me, and think I was hot." He snaps his long fingers. "That's probably it, actually. When I realized that I wanted a guy to think I was hot, it was like, yeah. I'm definitely gay."
That was it? "Pfft. If you're hot enough, everyone will want to get in your pants."
"I’m picky," my buddy says with a grin.
I groan, "Viera is you being picky?"
Aaron looks smug. "I know you think it's gross, but Crispin is my type."
"He's so weird, though!"
"Exactly."
I gesture to the west. "Aren't there small, weird, mean gays in California? Isn’t that where they make them?"
"Sure, but…I don't know, man." Aaron shrugs happily. "There's nobody like him, you know?"
I make a disgusted face. Thank god there isn't. One is too fucking many. "But how do you like a guy? How does it even happen?"
Aaron laughs like I just asked him the meaning of life. "I don't know, dumbass. Same way with you and a girl, probably. I think about him all the time. Being around him always feels great. I miss him. I text him about dumb stuff. I call him just to hear him talk; we do our homework together. I care about whether he's happy or not, and if I can help make him happier. The usual shit." Aaron pauses and looks up to the ceiling like he does when he's thinking. "Well, that could just be friendship, probably. Wanting to have sex with him really pushes it into the liking column, probably. Shit, I don't know."
I shake my head sadly. "Man, you are pussy whipped. Calling just to hear him talk?"
He thinks about it for a second. "Ass-pussy whipped."
"You are fuckin' nasty," I laugh. “Who the fuck calls it an ass-pussy?”
"I call it what it is," Aaron responds with a grin. “Because your boy here fucks.”
"We’re all fucking, dipshit," I say, mostly because it's the kind of response he expects out of me. Really though, when was the last time I felt that way about anyone? I've never been the called-to-say-hey type, and in high school it was easy to just stop by each other's house. I texted LeAndre about dumb shit. Him, my girlfriends, Aaron, Carter—I cared about whether they were happy or not, but I hadn't felt any differently about the girls than the guys. The girls were more mysterious, more fun to chase, and the sex part was fuckin' great, but…Maybe that just meant I hadn't fallen hard yet, like, not in love. Lately, though, it's like there just aren't any girls worth pursuing.
"So is this lab partner Dillon?" Aaron interrupted my thoughts.
Fucking Viera!
"Yeah." You know what? I'll just fucking say it. "Apparently we met when he walked in on me and his roommate drunk, making out."
Aaron's brown eyes go wide, and then he starts laughing so hard he doubles over. "Oh my god, Jay."
"Man is ugly as fuck, so I'm glad I don't remember anything except them opening the door."
He laughs harder.
"I would have forgotten, except Valerie, the girl we were trying to get with—so hot, by the way, tig ole' biddies and a fat ass—was like, 'Where did you guys go?' the next day, and I just told her I blacked out." Aaron holds his gut like he's about to pee himself, so I add, "And he must be a fucking slobber-er, because when I woke up I could smell his mouth, like, all over my face. I was so confused until I remembered. He’d been drinking raspberry vodka. It was fucking disgusting."
"Oh, man." Aaron wipes his eyes. "Sweet karma."
"What?"
"Remember how you didn't let it go when I got drunk and made out with Molly? Still gay, the whole time, and there I was making out with a girl. You never let me live it down."
I spread my hands in protest . "But Molly was hot!"
"Still a girl."
Dillon had said he’d made out with girls, too. "Not the same! This was like if you had made out with Jenny Gray. Or no, Shauna Oldman."
Aaron shudders. "Dear god."
"Exactly." I grin and fold my arms. "I would have thought Viera told you already. He and Dillon are super tight."
"Oh, he did," Aaron assures me, "but I couldn't really believe it."
See, that’s real friend shit. Heard a rumor and waited to hear from me before—I guess if Viera was there it’s not technically a rumor though. Is that just eyewitness testimony?
Aaron suddenly holds up his phone with an apologetic look, saying “Hey, sorry, it’s awesome to catch up but I gotta get back before the elder Vieras send out a search party. They gave me a list.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, shit, I’ll let you get to it. But stay on the radar, okay?”
“You go it,” he says with a little salute.
“Um, also,” I say awkwardly, “I know my folks aren’t any, like, better about the whole, uh, liking guys thing, but…if you need another place to crash then I got your back.”
“Thanks, man,” Aaron says in surprise.
I add quickly, “Or anything. Seriously. Gimme a shout and I’m there, bruh.”
“Sure.”
Aaron and I part ways with another quick bro hug. You may not believe me, but I swear I don’t think about how I’m gonna bring up supporting my best gay friend to my judgy gay peer tutor until I’m driving back on Sunday.
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