1
Gabe
“Gabe, do you have the mini-vacuum?”How I managed to keep from rolling my eyes until I’d turned away was beyond me. I loved my mom, really, but she was taking the whole “baby bird leaving the nest” thing a bit too far. And seriously, who needed a damn vacuum in the dorms? I barely used one at home. Why would I suddenly be overcome with the urge to vacuum the little bit of exposed floor that remained once we loaded in our stuff on top of the furniture the university provided? Besides, our rooms had institutional tile floors, not carpet. It seemed like overkill to me, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I was beginning to rethink my insistence that we load the Jeep this morning before heading out. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to deal with Mom’s neuroses at six in the damn morning.
“Yes, Mom.” I sighed, heavily, before picking up the next tote to load into the back of Trevor’s Jeep. All summer she’d been making lists and obsessively checking them against the growing pile of so-called essentials she picked up every time she ran into town. At the rate she shopped, we’d be able to supplement our savings by selling overstock to our neighbors. “I also have the Clorox wipes, the Lysol, paper towels, and dish soap. Everything you bought is packed away in these bins.”
Trevor brushed past me, sending a shock through my body. Not much longer and I wouldn’t have to ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out for him. Maybe. Something was off with him today and I couldn’t figure out what it was. He seemed more anxious than excited, which made me wonder if he’d only gone along with this plan to attend the same college and share a dorm to humor me.
Shit. Was that it? It wouldn’t be the first time. Our moms loved to tell us that we’d been raising hell together since the playpen, my own mom always adding that I was the instigator, not Trevor. Never precious Trevor. No, he was a people-pleaser from birth and went along with everything I dreamed up, even after one plot ended in a trip to the emergency room and him in a cast for six weeks.
When he returned from the Jeep, I did reach out to him. “Hey, you okay?”
I expected him to jerk away from my touch, but he didn’t. He was stiff, obviously uncomfortable, but not enough to retreat. I’d take that as a small win.
“Yeah, why?” His focus darted past me to see if anyone was within earshot. That’d become a rote habit, especially in the past few months. The closer we got to getting the hell out of Dodge, the more reckless I’d become. I’d grown impatient, not wanting to wait to see what it would be like when we weren’t both worrying about our parents barging into the room.
“You’re quiet,” I observed.
“I’m always the quiet one,” he responded with a smirk. “That’s why your mom loves me more.”
“True story.”
Why couldn’t you be more like Trevor?his mom asked more times than he could count.Trevor’s such a good boy,she’d say wistfully every time he left the house to walk two doors down to his own house as the streetlights came on.
“But you’re quiet, even for you. Are you sure you’re okay with this? Once we get there, there’s no turning back.” Giving him one last chance to change his mind was the last thing I wanted, but I couldn’t have either of us starting the year filled with regrets.
“Pretty sure that ship sailed about an hour after the acceptance letters came in the mail.” He wasn’t wrong. Our moms had been overjoyed when we’d both been accepted to UNC Wilmington. Sometimes, I wondered how much easier our lives would have been if one of us had been born a girl. Okay, so maybe not as easy as I’d convinced myself since I knew damn well our mothers would have our entire lives plotted out by now, down to how many kids we’d have and how far away we’d be allowed to live so they could shower their grandchildren with love and presents.
“But if you don’t wanna share a room, we can ask for a room assignment change,” I offered, even though the idea of him not being on the other side of our tiny dorm room made me physically ill. I held my breath until he shook his head, the only confirmation I got that he was still on board with being my roommate. A quick glance over my shoulder told me we were alone, so I took his hand in mine, squeezing tighter when he tried to pull away. “Trev, don’t do this. Not now. If you want your own room, tell me. I won’t be pissed.”
Hurt, yes. Angry with him for wanting to do his own thing instead of following me around the way I’d grown used to for the past eighteen years, no. One thing I never wanted to do was push Trevor into something he didn’t want. Hell, if it were up to me, we’d have been making out, maybe more, for the past year, ever since the night I confessed my crush to him, knowing it could be the end of the only friendship I knew I could count on no matter what.
I picked at the threads of my hoodie, trying to work up the balls to tell Trevor why I’d been such a prick to him for the past week. Month. Hell, I couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since seeing him didn’t twist me in knots. He’d cornered me, called me out like never before, and I’d never been able to lie to his face. Lie by omission, sure. But never an outright lie.
“So, what is it? Decided you’re sick of me tagging along with you and your friends?” It was true, Trevor and I weren’t in the same social circles at school, what with his nose being stuck in the books and me being the stereotypical jock, but I’d have gone to blows before shunning him because he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a ball.
“No! God, how could you even think that?” I shoved him back, pissed that he thought I was trying to push him away.
“Well let’s see…” He held up a hand and started ticking off the reasons on his fingers. “You’re suddenly busy every time I ask if you want to hang out. You disappeared yesterday as soon as the bell rang, if you even bothered to stay that long, and you’ve been pulling that shit all week, even though I’m the one with a car. You don’t answer my texts anymore. God, I hate this. You’re making me sound like a jealous boyfriend or something. Just tell me what in the heck’s been going on with you, because I’ve had a lot of time to try and work it out in my head, and the only things I can come up with that sound plausible are you’re sick of me and don’t want to tell me, or you’re doing drugs.”
“Seriously? Those are the options you were left with?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. But then, my mind rewound to his comment about being a jealous boyfriend. Did hewantto be my boyfriend? Or was the more wishful thinking on my part? I’d tried dancing around the idea of telling him I’m gay, but whenever we got close to the topic, he’d abruptly change the subject. Was it possible the same shit weighed on his mind?
There was only one way to find out. I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. This was the moment of truth. “I’m not on drugs and I’m not trying to get rid of you, okay? I’m gay. That’s my big secret.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
“Because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” I yelled. He flinched back, shoulders slumped as though I’d physically hit him. He’d never dealt well when anyone raised their voices to him, and I damn-well knew it. Now, I felt like shit. I placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a quick squeeze so he’d look up at me. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry, I swear. But how are you so calm about this?”
Trevor hedged, averting his gaze to the ground before responding. “I guess I thought you already knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Well—I mean—I never knew how to ask, but I’ve assumed for a while now that you were. It’s why we get along so well. I don’t have to pretend when I’m around you.”
“What are you saying?”
Trevor shrugged. Oh hell no, he wasn’t going to dodge the question this time.
