“So what possessed you to wear the shirt?” Mac felt a tad embarrassed for him. His wardrobe stuck out like the sorest of thumbs.
“I’m peacocking,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Peacocking? Are you going to burst into a plume of feathers?”
“Good use of the word plume. Peacocking is wearing an article of clothing that makes you stand out. It’s a purposeful attention-grabber and conversation-starter. You see, most gay guys wear what you wear. The basic, generic dude outfit because they’re trying to blend in. I prefer to stand out.”
Mac found himself dimming next to Rafe’s confidence. He had met openly gay students at Browerton. He was one himself. But Rafe seemed to out-do everyone.
“When did you come out?” Mac asked him.
“When I was twelve.”
“Jesus,” Mac gasped. “To just yourself?”
“To everyone. Parents, school, friends, pastor.” Rafe shrugged. It was no big deal to him. Mac wondered if he grew up on a different planet than ours. He never had to live in fear. Or he never let himself.
“Where are you from?” Mac couldn’t stop asking questions. Rafe was utterly fascinating.
“Arlington, Virginia.”
“You’re from Virginia?” Somebody had to be playing a practical joke on him. If only he had lived one state over, his life could’ve been vastly different. But then he might not have wound up at Browerton. He might never have met Gideon.
“Rafe, do you think gay guys and straight guys can be friends?”
Mac wondered if there was a way to answer his question with research. He wasn’t sure if geology class could be considered research or tampering with his sample. Rafe didn’t hesitate with his response.
“Of course.” He bit into a chip. “I have plenty of straight friends.”
“Are you attracted to any of them?”
“No. I’m not into straight guys. I don’t believe it’s a good use of my time to fall for somebody that I have zero shot with.”
“Can you help it, though?”
He bit into another chip and sipped on more magenta punch. “There are straight guys that I think are cute, even hot. But there’s a difference between thinking someone is good-looking and thinking about what it’d be like to date him. I don’t let myself fall down those rabbit holes.”
Mac didn’t actively think about dating Gideon. Not when he found out Gideon was straight. He had Davis. And their time together now…well, they were falling down a rabbit hole together. But it wasn’t like Rafe was criticizing his life.
“Well, next time I’m in class, I’ll say hi. Or come sit in the fifth row with me.”
“Or better yet,” and here is where Rafe flashed a smile that announced in big, bold letters that he was flirting. “Why don’t we hang out sometime, outside of geology class.”
“You don’t have to call it geology class. Just call it class.” The word geology would forever be tainted.
“Can I get your number? I’ll text you.” Rafe reached into his pocket. He was a guy who did not mess around.
Mac assessed the guy in front of him. Cute, charming, smart, sweet, confident. Guys like these were diamonds in the rough at Browerton. Many of the gay guys Mac had met either came on too strong or were too in the closet. Davis, and now Rafe, were rare exceptions.
And yet something held Mac back.
“We can hang out, as friends,” Mac said. “I’m not really looking to date right now.”
Parts of that seemed true.
Rafe took it in stride, but Mac saw that blow he dealt to the guy’s ego. “That’s cool.”
“I’m getting over a break-up.”
