“Weird, right?”
“You’re the weird one.”
“What?” Spencer shoved him. “Hehas been acting weird. He showed up at my party super late and only stayed a few minutes.”
“It makes perfect sense since you friend-zoned him.” Ryan placed a knowing hand on Spencer’s shoulder, ready to dish out some life lessons, even though Spencer was three weeks older. “He likes you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
“He likes you, and you obviously like him, but then you tell him you just want to be friends.”
“We are friends.”
“Do you hear that?” Ryan asked. “That’s the sound of my bullshit meter beeping like crazy.”
Spencer flipped him the bird.
“Stop lying to yourself, Spencer. You like him. I saw how much time you two were spending together. I saw that dopey smile on your face when you sniffed your fall candle. You want to be more than friends with Patrick, but you got scared. You didn’t spike it.”
“Oh, we spiked it plenty,” Spencer said under his breath.
“I’m talking about actual spiking. In volleyball games, how many times have you seen a ball sailing in the air that could’ve been a spike, but instead the player decided to bump or set it?”
“Too many times.” Spencer shook his head, thinking of all the games they lost because the newer teammates were too timid at the net.
“Right? You have this perfect setup, this perfect shot to slam it over the net and easily win the point. But at the last second, the player decides to go with a softer hit, which the other team can return.”
“Choking at the net.” Spencer saw it a million times. When you had a spike in hand, you went for it. Always.
“Why did they do that?” Ryan asked.
“Because they...were scared.” Every lightbulb in every corner of his mind turned on, like the lighting fixture section at a Home Depot.
I choked at the net.
He was right there. He liked Patrick, and Patrick liked him. It was on his lips that night.I like you, Patrick.The words were there, but he choked. He took the easy way out and said friends because he was scared. More lightbulbs, like he was Thomas Freaking Edison. Spencer allowed himself to think things he had been pushing down for too long. He was scared Patrick wouldn’t like him back. He was scared Patrick would. He was a big ole fraidy cat.
He looked to Ryan with new understanding. Ryan nodded exaggeratedly at him, like he was the teacher inThe Miracle Workerhelping Helen Keller learn to speak.
“I’ve never felt this way about someone before. I like him.” Spencer had to catch his breath. New words. New feelings. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating, like jumping out of an airplane. He wanted to hug and kiss and hold Patrick and tell him how much he liked him day in and day out. “Fuck. I don’t want him in the friend zone. I want him in the boyfriend zone.”
“Don’t tellmethis. Tell him!”
“I’m scared.”
“Good!”
Spencer shot him a look. Was he enjoying his pain?
“It’s okay to be scared. That means you care. Oh shit, I just realized you can’t spell scared without care.”
Spencer was a lit firecracker in someone’s head, sparking and ready to burst into bright colors across the sky. What he wouldn’t give to feel Patrick on his hands, to stare into those gleaming green eyes and hear him moan.
“That ball is still in the air. The play isn’t over. Are you going to bump it over the net like it’s a fucking kitten in a teacup, or are you going to spike that shit?”
“I’m going to spike that shit!”
Their hands collided in an epic hi-five that left them both with red palms.
