"Tell me about the time you came close with a woman, and I'll excuse it," Cole said, returning to his spot at my side. "Was itAnnette?"
I clapped my hand over my eyes. "God. No," I said, groaning. "Not Annette." I shook my head and indulged in another groan. "I took one of Annette's best friends to the prom, Jenna, and then made a valiant effort at engaging in post-prom traditions. It was adisaster."
"I didn't even go to the prom," Cole said. "Never mind the after-party."
"You didn't miss anything," I promised. "I didn't want to go. My mom forced me. She picked out the tux, the corsage, thegirl—"
"Wait a damn second," he interrupted, holding up his hand. "What did you just say? About your mother and the girl and the pickingout?"
I pulled a pillow out from under my head and pressed it to my face. "My mom set me up," I replied, hoping the pillow would suffocate mequickly.
It didn't. He plucked it from my hands and tossed it across the room. "Why?" heasked.
"Let me ask you this," I said, sitting up against the headboard. "When you came out to your family, how'd that go? How did theyreact?"
"We're going to do that?" he asked. "We're going to trade coming-out storiesnow?"
"Answer the question,Cole."
He shifted to sit beside me, blinking at the sheets while he considered my question. "I didn't come out, not exactly," he admitted. "My dad and I were stuck in traffic one afternoon. He asked if I had any questions about safe sex, and whether I'd thought about my sexual orientation. That's why he said.Sexual orientation. At first, I was too stunned to say anything. No one had ever been that direct with me. Plenty of kids teased the shit out of me, and there was no shortage of bullies in school, but no one had ever stopped to ask me about my identity. They'd always made assumptions. Once I recovered from the shock, I told him I had thought about it, and I was attracted to men. He nodded, and lectured me on the limitations of condoms for twentyminutes."
A grim smile pulled at my lips while I bobbed my head. "And your mother? Your sisters? How did they takeit?"
Cole shrugged. "My mom ordered a bunch of books about Stonewall, the AIDS crisis, and gay memoirs. She insisted we read and discuss them together. We watchedAnd the Band Played On. That all sounds depressing, but it wasn't. I mean, not too depressing." He folded his hands in his lap. "My sisters baked me a Bundtcake."
"Yeah, that wasn't my experience," I said with a rueful laugh. "My dad was cool but my mom was convinced I was going through a phase. She said I was confused, and I didn't know what I wanted because I'd lived in this small town for too long. I didn't like the girls here because I'd grown up with them, and viewed them assisters."
"That's terrible." He reached over and took my hand. "I'msorry."
I shrugged off his words but laced our fingers together. "Honestly, I believe she meant well. She didn't see how I could know my sexual identity when I was a fifteen-year-old kid who'd never kissed a girl—or boy. She thought it was an exposure issue, and once I got some exposure, my outlook would change. That's why she was always setting me up on dates and telling girls I was just shy. She meant well," I repeated. "She just didn'tunderstand."
"That doesn't make it any easier to swallow," Cole said. "Good intentions do not erase or excuse harmfulactions."
"It's okay. I don't walk around with that rain cloud over my head," I said. "I might have Annette chasing after me, but I'm not deeply traumatized oranything."
"Hang on a second," Cole said, holding up a finger. "You've dated in this town,right?"
I barked out a laugh. "No," I said. "Never. This place is far too small for me to hook up with the locals. Hell,no."
"And that, my darling, is why Annette thinks you're free game," he said. "Think about it. Your mom told everyone you were confused, you don't date locally, and you're a gentleman of a certain age. Knowing all that, I'm not surprised the vagina vultures arecircling."
"Gentleman of a certain age," I repeated. "Not sure how I feel about you calling me old,McClish."
"Shut up. It looks good on you," he said, dragging his gaze over my chest. "You need to shut it down with Annette. I see it from her perspective now, and you really need to shut itdown."
I groaned. "Yeah, that soundswonderful."
Cole shifted to face me. "Does she understand now? Yourmom?"
I held my hands out as if I was weighing my thoughts. "Yes and no," I replied. "She was a guidance counselor at the local highschool—"
"And she called it a phase. I'm dying a little inside right now," hemurmured.
"After she retired from the high school, my parents moved to one of those master-planned communities for active adults not far from Miami," I replied. "She says she's learned a lot about 'the gays' living in south Florida. She recently asked if I had a drag name, and whether I liked twinks. Apparently, her hair stylist would be perfect forme."
"I'm dead," hemurmured.
"She means well," I said, as much for Cole's reassurance as mine. "Even if she should've handled it differently when I came out, she didn't throw me on the streets. She didn't send me away to conversion camp. Talking about drag names isn't the best entry point but it's her way of reaching out. If there's one thing I've learned in my time on this planet, it's that I can't wait for people to be perfect. I can't reject them because they don't know the best way to open a discussion on my queer life. I can want more and demand more, but I'm not going to refuse them when they'retrying."
