“Yeah, Rainbow!”
The three of them mashed palms together in a janky high-five. A lump formed in Ethan’s throat. It was a silly gesture, but it meant so much to him. There was no better feeling than to be completely accepted for who you were.
A little while later, Greg told Sahil that he could go back inside and watch the final quarter of the game. No need to feel guilty. He had it covered.
“Just remember, Ethan,” Sahil said. “If he gives you any shit, send him to me.”
He swaggered back to his seat and promised to tell Lorna all about what happened.
The paramedics left soon after. It was Greg and Ethan together, but not alone. Ambulances always brought out the rubberneckers. People stopped on the way to the bathroom to get a look at what had happened. What they saw was one boy caring for another.
The onlookers didn’t seem to faze Greg. He helped Ethan to his feet and kept his arm around him to keep him steady. The outside world still seemed a little blurry to Ethan, but he knew as long as he had Greg beside him, he would be okay. They walked down the ramp, taking each step slowly. Soon, Ethan forgot that people were gawking at his gimpy, bandaged self. He had Greg at his side; everyone else had it rough.
Thick gray clouds swirled in the sky. Ethan shielded himself from the daylight.
“How are you doing?” Greg asked him.
“Better. I think.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” He sounded determined, with anger tinting his words. He held Ethan close to make sure nobody pushed through them. “This is my fault that this happened to you.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“I’m sorry I freaked out on you when Sahil caught us. I wasn’t thinking. Or I was thinking, but my thoughts were mainly, ‘Oh shit.’”
“I get it. Coming out isn’t easy.”
“But I shouldn’t have pushed you away. You’re kinda the best thing that’s happened to me, Folly.” Greg slipped his fingers through Ethan’s, and his heart nearly burst. Greg had never been this earnest. It was slightly unnerving to see, but Ethan knew he would happily get used to it.
They ambled through the parking lot, kicking past empty beer cans and assorted trash. Ethan savored this moment and framed it in his mind.
“Greg, we’re still holding hands.”
“I know.”
Greg’s car sat next to his frat’s tailgate. The tent ruffled in the breeze, and remnants of an aborted beer pong game remained frozen on the table. Ethan hoped he could attend a tailgate with Greg. His boyfriend? Were they official now? Ethan stopped worrying about labels. He had Greg. Greg had him. The rest would work itself out.
Like a gentleman, Greg opened the door for him. Before Ethan got in, he pecked Greg on the lips.
“Uh, nope,” Greg said. That smirk was back, Ethan’s old friend.
“Nope?”
“What kind of a kiss was that?” Greg pulled Ethan in and smacked their lips together. The earth stopped moving for those seconds. Ethan turned off his brain and just felt. Felt this moment, this guy. He would analyze how things changed later. But for now, he kissed back.
epilogue
“Okay. On the count of three: Lick. Take. Suck. You ready? One…two…three!”
It still stung when Ethan downed tequila. He would never fully get used to the burning in his throat and the expanding pit of nausea that formed in his stomach. Maybe that was for the best. If he liked alcohol too much, that could be problematic.
None of his drinking buddies seemed to be a fan of tequila either. Greg and Lorna pinched their faces into tight little balls as they sucked on the lime. Ethan wondered if he looked as ridiculous making the same expression.
“Dude, what kind of shit is this? This is not the good shit,” Greg said, flicking the puffy ball of his Santa hat out of his eyes. He tossed his spent lime wedge into the trash.
“It’s just as good,” Sahil said. He shifted his eyes at the bar. Nobody believed him for a second. Greg charged to the booze stash and pulled out a clear bottle with a sticker of a big-breasted Mexican woman stuck to it.
“Cumshaka? What the fuck is that?”
