They introduced themselves as Dell and Carpenter.
“Ready to go?” Dell asked, arms full of chips.
Cliff looked at his friends, then Brennan, his usually stoic public demeanor faltering. But just as quickly, it was back on.
“I’m actually going to go to this exhibit in Harrisburg. My art professor strongly recommended that we check it out for class.”
The words slipped out of Cliff smoothly. Brennan nearly believed it.
Dell and Carpenter didn’t seem impressed.
“You sure you want to?” Dell asked.
“Yeah. Art is kinda cool.” Cliff shrugged. “If it gets done early, I’ll join you for movie number two.”
“Cool,” Carpenter said. “Don’t stay out too late.”
Dell smacked his chest. “Are you his mommy, Carpenter?”
“I was just saying it...whatever. Let’s go pay.”
“Nice meeting you both. Go Whitetails! Good luck tomorrow.” Brennan’s heart did the equivalent of raising a fist in the air,Breakfast Club-style.
Cliff watched his friends pay for their snacks and leave, with not quite relief on his face. Brennan didn’t struggle much with being in the closet. It wasn’t something he thought too much about until he began hooking up with Paul, but that relationship was like its own closet experience. He knew the weighted feeling of keeping a secret, the relief and regret of successfully fooling those around him.
“You’re not going to get in trouble for going to this thing? I promise it’s not a wild party.”
Cliff shook his head no. “What time are you going?”
“Soonish. I was grabbing something to eat on the shuttle.” Brennan glanced again at the selection in the cooler, which was looking more unappetizing by the second. More wheels turned in his head. “Did you want to get something to eat in town? There’s a later shuttle we can take.”
“Sure.” Cliff shrugged his shoulder in an unassuming way that Brennan somehow found ridiculously cute. Every single of Cliff’s gestures and movements made his insides flutter.
Flutter for the desire of sexytimes, and that was it, he told himself.
Brennan clapped his hands together, way too excited about a meal. He squeezed Cliff’s shoulder, forgetting that they were in public. Brennan had a compulsion to touch him. He blanched under his fingers.
Brennan pulled his hand away, as if it were a hot stove.
“Ready to go?”
15
CLIFF
They decided on Azucar for dinner. Cliff remembered stopping in here with his family during a visit to Alex. His mom described the establishment as cutesy, and upon further inspection, Cliff agreed with her assessment. The cafe had independent artwork displayed on exposed brick walls and a mix of tables and chairs and couch-and-armchair groups. At the register were display cases of baked goods, both sweet and savory. Cliff wished his hometown had a place like this instead of just Starbucks and Paneras -- although no shade to either.
He and Brennan decided on a table and chairs. It was better for eating their soups and sandwiches. Sharing a sofa might’ve led to knees touching, hands touching, and things spiraling from there.
At the moment, Brennan laughed with a chunk of sandwich in his mouth. His lips struggled to keep the half-chewed food away from public view. He held up one finger and gulped down his water.
“It’s not that funny,” Cliff said.
“Yes, it is.” He held a fist over his mouth. “How long before you realized what a virgin actually was?”
Cliff flipped him the bird. A friendly middle finger because this was all water under the bridge. They were reminiscing about all the shit Alex and Brennan used to pull on their perpetual target Cliff.
“Why would you tell an eight-year-old that a virgin is someone who acts in a television sitcom?”
