“Yes, you fucking should have!” Damn it! He sounds angry.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find the right moment, and then I started to be a little afraid of your reaction.”
“The right moment? How about calling merightafter it happened?”
Happened?I don’t think I have a specific pivotal moment in which I realized I was gay; it was more like a combination of different moments.
“Are you okay? Where were you? Did you get hurt? Hit your head? Did you go to the hospital?” His frantic questions make my head spin.
He’s talking about the car accident. Did he hear the first part of my statement? “I’m talking about being gay, you doofus.”
“Okay.” He shrugs like it’s not a big thing. I almost snort at his casual reaction. Typical Brad, making light of whatever makes me choke with anxiety.
“I had my suspicions. You couldn’t stop looking at Matthew Brownson’s ass during gym class.”
I couldn’t? Which means Brad’s known since high school. My face is hot with embarrassment.
“What? Did you think I wouldn’t be fine with it? We studied together that in ancient Rome and Greece, being bi or gay was the norm.”
“True.”Partly. Same-sex relations were not viewed through the modern lens of gay or straight identity. Sexual behavior was defined by power dynamics and status. I don’t say it out loud, satisfied by the fact that Brad remembers some extra facts I taught him during our tutoring lessons in school.
“Would you push me away if I told you I was…bi, for example?”
Wait, did he just come out to me? His face has turned red, and he’s averting his eyes. I’ve never seen him with a guy before, only with girls. And he’s had plenty. Still, all that nudity in the lockers? If it were me, I’d probably melt like a popsicle standing among so much raw hotness. I’m diving into the gutters headfirst, remembering the last episode of Heated Rivalry. Two sexy athletes going at it? Who doesn’t want that?
The sound of Brad nervously clearing his throat pulls me back into the car. Now is not the time for my dirty daydreams.
“Brad. Look at me,” I plead with him. When he timidly does, I say, “You are the yellow in my life.”
“The yellow?” The familiar frown line between his eyes makes me smile.
“My happy place. The person I can tell absolutely everything to because I know you won’t judge me, ever. I mean, I told you I was gay, and you focused on the car accident instead.”
“Because you being gay doesn’t change anything, but that car could have hurt you or worse, killed you.”
“I’m fine, thanks to Ren.”
“Ren was there?” He leans toward me slightly, his eyes narrow with intensity, waiting for my response.
“Yeah. He pushed me away from the car’s trajectory.”
Brad’s bicep flexes under the thin cashmere sweater as he takes a long breath.
“Are you jealous of Ren?” I ask him. I have been spending time with him, studying and having fun, all things I used to do with Brad. But my friendship with Brad is on a completely different level.
“No. Yes. I don’t know,” he groans. “I’m all over the place lately. I haven’t slept well in a while.”
“Hey, we might be living two thousand one hundred and sixty-three miles apart—that’s the first thing I checked when you told me you were going to Stanford—but nobody will take your place,ever.” I go for a hug, but the seatbelt halts my movements again and again and again. Until I hear Brad’s snort.
“I’ve missed Kluzy-Sully,” he chuckles. “I’m surprised you haven’t stepped on an open bear trap and then fallen down a well without me.”
“Shut up!” I scold him, rolling my eyes.
When the mirth dials down, he looks forward at the windshield again. “You know you are the only one I can trust with everything. You are my yellow too, Sul.”
He’s such a gummy bear. I’ll let him be for now. But when he moves here next semester, he’ll spit everything out.
“I know. Now, take me to the bus stop. I have a shift at the pet shelter tonight.”
