“One: you never tell Dad about this conversation. Ever. If he finds out I gave his youngest son a gay sex tutorial over FaceTime, he’ll have me court-martialed, and he doesn’t even have that authority anymore.”
“Agreed.”
“Two: you don’t interrupt me. This is going to be awkward enough without you stopping me every five seconds to ask clarifying questions. Save them for the end.
“Fine.”
“Three: you owe me. Big. I’m talking Christmas presents forthe next decade. Good ones. Not those star-naming certificates you gave me in high school.”
“Those were thoughtful.”
“Those were pieces of paper with fake coordinates, Ryan. The International Astronomical Union doesn’t recognize them.”
“They’re sentimental.”
“They’re worthless. Do we have a deal?”
I nod. “Deal.”
Marvin takes one more drag of his cigarette, sets it aside and folds his hands together.
“Alright. Here’s what you need to know.”
By the timeMarvin ends the call, my face may be hotter than the surface of the sun, but at least I’m better prepared for what may come.
Now, all I need is for Oliver to be on the same page as me. Easier said than done, right?
26
OLIVER
“This is the greatest day of my life!” Gerard announces, arms spread wide as if he’s about to embrace the entire fairground. His blond hair catches the neon glow from a nearby booth, turning him into an overgrown cherub.
“You said that about the fifties night,” Elliot points out, trailing behind him in a more subdued manner.
“That was also the greatest day of my life! I can have more than one great day, babe.”
Kyle makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a death rattle. “Why did I agree to this?”
“Because Alex wanted to come,” Drew supplies helpfully, slinging an arm around Jackson’s shoulders. “And you’d walk through fire for Alex.”
“I would not.”
“You brought him chicken noodle soup when he had a cold.”
“He was sick.”
“You made the soup from scratch, Kyle.”
Kyle’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it. Alex, walking beside him in a sweater that’s slightly too big for his frame, ducks his head to hide what might be a smile.
I fall into step beside Ryan, my flip-flops slappingthe dirt ground, hyperaware of the few inches of space between us. Ever since the night we watched the stars disappear, fingers tangled together, secrets whispered in the dark—it’s like we’re walking through a field of dry kindling with matches in our pockets.
“You doing okay?” I ask Ryan, keeping my voice low enough that the others won’t overhear.
Ryan glances up at me, his eyes catching the colored lights from the Ferris wheel. For once, the tight line of his shoulders has softened, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a way I haven’t seen since we were kids. “I’m at a county fair surrounded by hockey players. The jury’s still out.”
“That’s fair. Pun intended.”
