I gripped my backpack straps and just looked at him.Come with me.
He shook his head.I can’t.
“Yeah, I know.” I shut my eyes and nodded.
“But I’ve got you,” Nick said, trapping me in a hug before pretty much pushing me onto the train. “I’vealwaysgot you.”
I wondered if Mom and Dad knew something was up. “What do you mean you’re coming home?” they’d said when I called them. “Aren’t you studying for midterms?”
It had taken a lot to keep my voice steady. “Yes,” I told them. “But it’s no big deal, and I just”—I hunted for the best words—“want to come home for a night.”
I looked at theAnnualemail again on the ride. Everyone loved the yearbook’s superlatives and Iknewit was time when I saw the nominees. Because amid all the stupidity of MOSTLIKELY TOWIN IN ASTREETFIGHT(Val Palacios, was my vote) and FIRST TOMARRY AMILLIONAIRE(Jack Healy, hands down), there they were: Luke’s and my names, next to BESTBROMANCE, and I hated that.The ultimate typo,I thought. We weren’t just a bromance, and everyone needed to know it. Iwantedthem to know it. TheBneeded to be dropped.But that’s later,I reminded myself before my chest tightened.Mom and Dad are first. Don’t think about Bexley now.
Just like back in October, Mom was waiting at the end of the platform when my train pulled in. It was almost dinnertime. “Hi, honey.” She wrapped me in a hug. “How are you?”
“Hungry,” I said.
She touched my cheek. “Me too. Should we go to the club for dinner? Your dad and I still haven’t used up this month’s minimum.”
But instead of growling, my stomach started to churn. Everyone at Darien Country Club knew my family. We could never get through a dinner without people stopping by our table. “Actually”—I swallowed the lump in my throat—“can we eat at home?”
“Sure.” Mom nodded. We left the station in pursuit of the parking lot. The Jeep beeped in response to Mom’s keys. I threw my stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat, leaning my head against the window as she turned over the ignition. I’d just shut my eyes when I heard her add, “Dad’s excited to see you.”
I looked at her. “What?”
She smiled. “He’s happy you called, that you’re here for the night.” She laughed. “He’s really missed you lately. We both have.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I said, and we were quiet for the rest of the drive. When we got home, Dad thumped me hard on the back before I went upstairs to unpack my stuff. Then I lay on my bed while my parents figured out food, trying to collect my thoughts.
Mom ended up reheating leftover chili, but the clenching inside me made it hard to eat as Dad asked, “Would you like to go first?”
I shook my head. We did this every night when Nick and I weren’t at school, went around the table and said something we wanted to “get off our chest.” Dad’s go-to was always complaining about the fact that Nana called him about ten times a week for TV tech support. “I love her,” he’d say, “but sometimes it’s so exasperating. She can never understand that all she needs to do is presssource!”
Now, Mom went ahead and vented about her latest listing. “It’s been the biggest nightmare,” she said. “The deal is contingent upon the buyers selling their house, and we just found water in the crawl space…” She trailed off and her eyebrows furrowed. “Charlie, are you all right?”
I didn’t respond. I could hear the blood pumping through my ears and feel the sweat beading on my forehead. And it wasn’t because the chili was too spicy.
“Charlie—”
“I’m gay,” I blurted.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m gay,” I repeated, lungs threatening to give out if I didn’t exhale. “That’s what I’m getting off my chest.”
Mom blinked—once, twice, three times before she nodded slowly. She opened her mouth to say something, but I wasn’t done yet, seeing Dad’s blank expression. Just staring at me.
“It’s not a joke,” I told him.
“No,” he murmured, face paling. “I didn’t think it was.” He cleared his throat and pushed back his chair. “Excuse me a minute.”
“Jay,” Mom said as he walked out of the kitchen, not looking back. My eyes were stinging, ears ringing. “Jay…”
Neither of us said anything for a few seconds, but then she took one of my hands and started massaging my palm. That’s when the stinging shifted to a full-on spill of hot tears.
“Did you know?” I asked softly.
Mom shook her head. “No, but it answers a lot of questions.” She squeezed my hand. “We’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been our Charlie for the past five months…perpetually preoccupied, and sothinat Thanksgiving…” She wrapped an arm around me, and I put my head on her shoulder.
