Chip sighed.
“Yeah.”
“Why would you do that?” I choked out. “I thought we were friends.”
“Because I like you, okay?” Chip gulped. “I like you, and I was telling Trent about it because I couldn’t get you out of my head. We were alone and you were so beautiful. You are. You’re beautiful and funny and thoughtful and kind. You’re the nicest person I know. And I couldn’t stand hurting you. I couldn’t stand being so close to you.”
Chip put his hand on my knee and tried to squeeze it, but I took his hand and lifted it off me.
“Don’t touch me,” I said.
“But—”
I couldn’t believe Chip.
If he liked me, why didn’t he treat me better?
The pulsar inside me destabilized and exploded.
“This isn’t some... some TV show, where you can torment me for years and then kiss me and be like ‘Guess what? I was gay for you all along!’ It doesn’t work like that.”
“I’m queer. I’ve always liked guys too,” Chip whispered. “And I never tried to kiss you. I wasn’t tormenting you.”
“You’ve stood there, every time Trent said or did something to me. Every racist joke. Every homophobic nickname. You never stopped him.”
“Trent’s not homophobic. He knows I’m queer.”
“You can have queer friends and still be homophobic, Chip.”
He sniffled.
I couldn’t tell if he was crying or if it was just the rain.
“Is that why you told me to quit my job?”
“What?”
“You wanted me to quit because I worked with Landon?”
“No! I wouldn’t... You seemed so sad. I just wanted you to be happy. I promise.”
“Why should I listen to anything you say? You’re just as bad as Trent is.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll make him leave you alone. I promise.”
Cyprian Cusumano didn’t get it.
It wasn’t just about how Trent treated me.
It was about how he treated me too.
I recognized the glow of Oma’s headlights curving around the parking lot. She pulled up and honked.
I sighed and stood.
“Darius?” Chip said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Chip was always saying sorry. But he never acted like it. He never changed.
