Me
They were fine
Gavin
You were amazing
With the axes I mean
Natural talent
I stare at the texts, trying to parse meaning from pixels.
Me
I had a good teacher
The typing bubble appears and disappears several times. Finally:
Gavin
Sleep good, Doc
See you Thursday
I don't sleep well. I lie awake replaying every moment. Every touch. Every look. The way he said my name in the truck.
You know exactly what he's not.
I do. He's not gay. Not available. Not mine.
But for a few hours tonight, it felt like maybe he could be.
Why do I do this to myself?
Chapter 11
Get Your Own Twink
Gavin
The football keeps going up and down, up and down, while I try to figure out how to start this conversation. Tyler's sprawled on my bed, still in his workout gear, scrolling through his phone like we're not about to have the most awkward talk of our friendship.
"You gonna tell me why you're being weird, or should I keep pretending I don't notice?" He doesn't even look up.
The ball slips. I fumble the catch. "I'm not being weird."
"You've been tossing that ball for ten minutes without saying anything. That's your thinking face." Now he looks up, brown eyes knowing. "The one you get before big games."
"It's nothing."
"Gavin."
"Really, I just?—"
"Is this about Sebastian?"
The football hits my dresser with a thunk. "How did you… What?"
