Banks nodded again.Swallowed, hard, and took the plunge.Fuck it,he thought, meeting Harper’s eyes with steely resolve even as they pleaded for mercy.What’s the worst that can happen, right?
“I mean, would I be sitting here, alone, in a theater with you when I could be doing shots at a frat party and watching chicks lift up their shirts for free beer if I honestly, actually cared about tits and ass?”
Harper beamed, shaking his head.“Then ...I mean ...how could you...”
“Sleep with all those chicks back home?”Banks finished for him.“I mean, I didn’t sleep withallof them.Not even half of them, by my count.”
“But the stories I heard every Monday?About what you’d done all weekend, or who you’d done?They couldn’t all be bullshit, right?”
“They weren’t, Harper.Not at first.I mean, when you grow up like I did, football star dad, football star brothers, pennants all over the house, trophies instead of books lined up on the shelves, what else are you gonna do?For most of high school, freshman and sophomore years for sure, I talked myself into believing I liked tits and ass.Pussy, too.So I was a man-whore and then some.But later, eventually, I had to admit to myself that it was more of a chore than I cared to admit.That I was going through the motions.That none of the girls I’d slept with excited me as much as showering with the guys after practice or checking out their bulges during grey sweatpants season.By then I already had a rep to protect, and scores of notches on my bedpost and, after that, I just kind of coasted through junior and senior year on my reputation alone.The girls didn’t seem to care.They were just there to be seen on my arm, or any footballer’s arm, for that matter.If all we did was a little heavy petting in the car after the game, or if they passed out on some rando family’s bed after a party I could just say we had a great time, and they’d believe it.And all the while, I just ...just...”
Harper had inched closer by then.Or, perhaps, Banks had.“Just what?”Harper nudged, but Banks just shrugged.“Pined away?”he finally admitted.“Crushed on guys from afar?Wandered around feeling like I was living in someone else’s skin?Started searching for colleges, any colleges, where all my bro friends weren’t going?Started looking forward to the day when I wouldn’t have to hide who I really was anymore?”
Harper nodded quietly, eyes moist but his smooth, hollow cheeks dry.“How can your story sound so much like mine when we couldn’t be more different, Banks?”
Banks swallowed.Heart pounding, palms sweating, nodding quietly in the flickering glow that bathed them both in its chaotic, yet vaguely comforting, light.“Because I guess we’re not so different after all, Harper.Because you can’t hide who you are forever, and if I don’t start living the life I want now, when will I ever?”
“What does that look like, Banks?”Harper was close enough to kiss, and Banks could only imagine what the two of them might look like, sitting there in the back of the theater, faces aglow from the movie magic high above, turned gently toward each other, gazing into the other’s eyes, and faces mere inches apart.
“I have no idea, Harper,” Banks croaked.“I wasn’t even sure I could start my new life, ever, until I looked over at the pep rally and saw you, sitting there, so close and yet so far away.”
“I’m here now, Banks.Right here.So.Very.Close...”
“Yes, you are, Harp.Close enough to kiss.”
Harper chuckled dryly, popcorn and Red Vines breath warm as it caressed his face.“So kiss me then.”
Banks thought he was bluffing.Sweet Harper, shy and aloof, in his baggy flannel shirts and banged up sneakers, slinking along the walls as if he could literally disappear into them.“Don’t threaten me with a good time, bro.”
“It’s not a threat,” Harper croaked, hand inching closer to his on the varnished wooden armrest they’d been sharing.“It’s an invitation.An offer.A ...beginning.”
“Of what?”Banks croaked back, hardly believing he could still speak.
Chapter Ten
Harper
