"You don't call me Boe anymore. Haven't in a while."
"That's not…"
"And you're…I don't know, kitten. You're weird around me now," he continues, talking over me.
"Am not," I scoff. This isn't the first time he's accused me of being weird. Far from it, and it makes my chest tighten with dread just like every other time.
"You are."
"Maybe I just want some…some space. Sometimes."
He doesn't respond right away. Just gazes at me with the inches between us, trying to understand all the things I won't tell him.
I hope he never figures it out.
"You don't need space from Brett," he says, then carefully, "but you do from me?"
I flinch. God. It's so obvious.
You're making it so obvious!
"You'remyperson, too, kitten."
I try to ignore the hurt in his voice. Pretend like it doesn't crack something vital inside me, knowing I'm the cause of it. But I'm nothisthe way my heart wants to be. That's why I don't stop him when he rolls out of bed and leaves. It's better this way.
It doesn’t happen the way I thought it would.
Believe me, I’ve hadplentyof time to consider all the different ways I could come out to my best friend. Many, many nights of debating the best way. From just blurting it out to writing it in icing on a chocolate cake. I know Brett won’t give a crap that I’m gay. It’s silly that I’ve taken so long to tell him honestly. But I’ve been stalling.
Because while I may be ready to tell him I’m gay, I don’t think I will ever be ready to admit to him how I figured it out.
“It’s Theo James, isn’t it?” Brett asks quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen. He reaches over and takes M&M’s out of my candy bag, even though he has five different open bags of his own candy in his lap.
My heart skips a beat, knowing where this is going before my brain can catch up.
“What do you mean?” I whisper back. He finally glances over at me, and my breath hitches at how similar he looks to Bowen when he smirks.
“I think Shailene Woodley is a babe, and you’re drooling over Theo James. Right?”
Insurgentcontinues playing in the background like I’m not having a full-on gay panic right now.
“Brett…”
“Thought so.” His smirk blooms into a smile, and he grabs the whole bag of M&M's from me. “Theo James is pretty hot, though. Even I can agree to that.”
A breathless, relieved laugh shoots out of me.
That’s it.
Kit
Age 15
Brett has eaten at least three hotdogs, Tucker has eaten four, and Bowen has eaten two hotdogs and a cheeseburger. I sit in stunned silence on the other side of the picnic table. My one hotdog is half gone, and Brett is eyeing it like a hungry dog. I’m impressed.
“Do you ever get full?”
Bowen looks up at me, a tiny bit of ketchup on the side of his mouth, and my cheeks feel warm when he smiles. “No.”
