Profound fascination, awe-inspiring beauty—all the emotions bubbling inside of me could find a home in the book.
Not that I expected anyone else to really care. Even if I could get a publisher interested, astronomy wasn’t thrilling to the average person. But sometimes, I felt that I would be happy if I had even one person who bothered to read my book. Just so long as I could write it, and share it with someone, I thought I would be satisfied.
Sighing, I took my wine into the living room. I sipped as I unloaded my bag, setting up a few books and notepads on the coffee table. I rolled out a star map on the floor, then wandered over to flip an old David Bowie album on the record player. I fully intended to sprawl out across every inch of the house. After living in a small studio in Atlanta for three years, I wanted to pin my notes on every wall, blast my music, and pour my heart onto the page without a thing to distract me.
I knew it was dorky, but I stopped caring about that a long time ago. My brother Leo was the cool, outgoing type. He got all the hot men, and if I ever needed to feel vicariously hip, I just had to call him up and listen to him talk about his cool new public relations firm.
I set my wine on the table, then scratched the back of my head. I was a little tired, but there was no reason I couldn’t get started on setting up the house that night. It was what I had come there to do, after all.
And so, until well past midnight, I did exactly that. I grabbed my telescope from the back of the car, carried it carefully to the back porch, and indulged in a quick peek at the stars. For a few hours, I wandered back and forth, hauling books and papers from the car and then messing with my telescope a little more. I pinned notes to the wall, turned the living room into a mini library, and generally made a big, geeky mess of the place.
At three in the morning, looking around my new workspace with a satisfied hum, I finally hauled myself up the stairs and collapsed in bed.
* * *
The ring of my cell pulled me from a deep sleep. I rolled out of bed with a groan, grabbed my glasses, and then shuffled downstairs in my boxer briefs, groggy and confused. My brother Leo’s name was blipping on the screen.
“Shawn, you’re there! How’s the house?”
I yawned. “Fine,” I answered, casting my gaze across the transformation I had completed the night before. Little notes of inspiration greeted me, stuck to the doorframe and declaringYou got this!andGo Shawn go!“You’ll have to come visit while I’m here, if you can spare the vacation days.”
My older brother and I were good friends, even if we both kept ourselves so busy we didn’t get to visit much. When Leo became a teenager, he went off the rails a little, and we drifted apart for a few years. After I came out of the closet at seventeen, though, we reconnected, and over the years, we’ve come to appreciate each other in new ways.
I was pretty damn lucky to have an older gay brother who could take me under his wing. I just wished some of his charm and confidence had worn off on me, too.
“Why are you calling me in the morning, anyway?” I asked, then found my laptop on the dining room table. I flipped on some recordings of deep space, figuring the strange sounds would be a good way to start my first day writing. “You’re usually busy at work already.”
“Right. Well, Shawn, here’s the thing.” Leo sighed, and I tensed, aware that something might be wrong. “You remember Cass?”
I stopped at the kitchen counter, my heart in my throat. “Yeah, of course,” I said, as though I could possibly forget Cass, and the way he moved his hips, and that soft, troubled smile that always played on his lips. He’d been Leo’s best friend during his rocky years in high school, and the two of them had gotten into all kinds of trouble together. They ran off to the city on the weekends and smoked weed in the garage and generally drove my mom up the wall.
But Cass? The hottest guy I have seen in my entire life, still to this day?
He saved me.
The first time it happened, when I was fourteen, he’d turned down the hallway right when a couple bullies came for me, knocking my bag out of my hands and calling me a queer. Some of the kids had always teased me for being shy and a little effeminate, a fact that only made me shyer, but that day was the first time they’d come for me physically. Before I could even think, Cass had shoved one of them up against the locker with a growl. He tossed the other bully to the ground. Then the two guys ran away, scared shitless. I was freaking out just standing there, but he patted me on the back, offered me an easy smile, and walked me to my next class.
We barely talked, but for the next two years, anytime someone tried to give me shit, Cass was there to stare them down.
I was definitely grateful, but at the time, it felt humiliating. You want to look cool and strong in front of your crush, after all, not like a scared dweeb who needs defending.
And Cass earned himself the biggest, most heart-fluttering crush of all time.
“What’s new with Cass?” I asked, my voice almost breaking. “He’s still drumming for that band?”
“He’s okay. Actually, you’ll see him pretty soon.”
My stomach flipped. “I’ll see him? When?”
“Please don’t be upset, Shawn, but with everything going on with my business, I kind of forgot you were going to be at Grandma’s house this summer.”
I stared at the tile floor. “Okay…”
“Cass called me last week, looking for work. I remembered how we’d been wanting to remodel the old art studio behind the house and thought it would be a perfect surprise for Mom.”
My brain started spinning. I set the empty glass on the counter, then peered out the back window in the direction of the studio, which was hidden behind the trees. “That would be a nice surprise,” I said cautiously.
“I hope you don’t mind, then! I already told Cass it would be okay, and he doesn’t have anywhere else lined up to stay. Thanks for understanding, Shawn.”
