“Um, yeah, maybe. Email me the details and I’ll see if I can make it.”
“Cool, I’ll do that.” Another beat of awkward silence falls between us before he nods and turns to leave.
I fiddle with my bag and pretend to reorganize some things, giving him a minute’s head start, and then I head out too. My mind goes straight back to Butch as I make my way outside and towards the bus stop. Maybe I should be the one to bring it up again. Was I enthusiastic enough when I said yes? He might think I was just being nice. Or maybe he just changed his mind after he asked.
I groan inwardly and pick up my pace when I see the bus pulling around the corner.
I’ve done a lot of hard things in my life. Coming out wasn’t a picnic, all the surgeries were excruciating, and even all the milestones I’ve hit with Butch’s coaching felt impossible until I pushed myself and made them happen. So why does telling Butch I have a massive, full-blown crush on him and that I desperately want to go on a date with him feel harder than anything else on that list?
I make it to the bus and plop down in the first open seat, then pull my phone out of my bag, planning to doomscroll until my stop, but there’s a text notification from Juno waiting for me.
JUNO: Are you coming home after class or pulling a late night at the library?
PERCY: I’m on my way home. Ugh, I do need to make some more progress on this paper though. You’d better not spend the whole night distracting me.
JUNO: Trust me, I won’t be a distraction.
PERCY: What does that mean? Are you going out or something?
It’s a Friday night, after all, and Juno really isn’t one to spend a Friday night with a History Channel documentary playing in the background while doing schoolwork like I am. I wonder what Butch is up to tonight. I actually had excited knots in my stomach this morning on my way to the gym, thinking he might ask me to do something. Stupid.
I should have asked him.
I sigh again. The message I sent is on read, but it doesn’t look like they’re planning to respond, so I switch over to my text thread with Butch. He’s not a big texter—at least not with me. He’s sent me a few articles about exercise techniques, and we’ve traded a couple of stupid memes, but that’s about it. My thumb hovers over the keyboard and I try to work up the guts to text and ask what he’s doing tonight.
What if he says he has a date?
My stomach roils and I stuff my phone back into my bag. I spend the rest of the ride staring out the window until we get to my stop, and the short walk home berating myself for being such a coward.
When I stop outside my apartment door to fish out my key, I hear laughter inside. Does Juno have someone over? Maybe I should have planned to hunker down at the library tonight after all. I’m not about to turn my ass around and get back on the bus now though, so I slide my key into the door, already prepared to beeline for my room, put on my headphones, and give them their privacy.
I step inside, ready with a quick, polite smile, but I stop in my tracks instead.
“Butch?”
BUTCH
I choke back laughter as Percy’s face goes from shocked to delighted and back to shocked again in the space of half a second. He blinks rapidly at me, looks at the pizza and beer on the coffee table, then glances at Juno for an explanation.
“Well, I have places to be,” Juno says, standing up and brushing their hands over the front of their pants. “People to see, holes to have filled.”
Percy pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
“Lovely, Juno.”
Juno grins unapologetically. Percy was right, Juno and Fender might be too much alike. Not just their crude sense of humor, but that they were willing to let me in and clear out for the night, no questions asked, is proof enough. And I definitely owe them one. They stop by Percy and lean in to whisper something to him, then kiss him on the cheek.
“Later, gators.” Juno waves at me over their shoulder before leaving us alone in the apartment.
“What…” Percy shakes his head and lets out a quiet laugh. “What is all this?”
I shrug. “What’s a Friday night without pizza and beer?”
I spent all week racking my brain over the perfect date. The problem is, I’ve never actuallydated. And nothing I came up with felt good enough to impress Percy. It was Friday again before I knew it, and it felt wrong to leave it hanging, to just let him sit at home alone… or worse, leave him free to go out with someone else.
“Alright, let me change real quick. Do you want to pick a movie or something for us to watch?” He picks up the remote from the little table next to the couch and tosses it to me on his way past.
I catch it and stare at it as his bedroom door clicks shut behind him. What do smart guys like Percy like to watch? Normally, I would throw on a baseball game or the newJohn Wickmovie, but neither of those seem right. This is the same problem I had trying to come up with a date idea. A guy like Percy doesn’t want to go to a sports bar for a couple of rounds or hit the batting cages, but I don’t have the first clue what hewouldwant to do.
