“Sorry!” Cubby laughs and leans over to kiss my cheek. “I’m on a roll from filming.” He pretends to lock his lips shut and toss the key into the trees. “Enough about that.”
“It’s nothing,” I object, but when everyone looks at me, I’m not sure what else to say.
Sully has always had the confidence it took to be out and proud, and Meg and Cubby seem equally free of hang-ups. Listening to them banter together and joke around about stuff that’s so new to me, I’m left feeling out of place and a couple of steps behind.
“I’m not straight,” I finally manage. “At least I don’t think I am.” I look around the campfire. “Right?”
Sully opens his mouth without saying anything, then glances at Cubby, who pushes his hand through his hair. “That’s up to you,” Cubby says.
“I guess.” I gulp from my beer. “But if I’m…doing what I’m doing, it means I’m not straight. Doesn’t it?”
Cubby beams at me. I feel awkward, and I’m not sure why he’s suddenly so happy, but it definitely helps to see his smile.
“Sexuality is more complicated than simple words,” he says, then scooches his chair over and grabs my hand. “Lots of people find a label that works for them and never think twice about it, but it’s common to have your desires and sense of yourself change over time too.”
“I used to say I was bisexual,” Meg says. “Still use that word sometimes. But almost all my relationships have been with women, andqueerandlesbianhave been feeling more accurate lately.”
“I’m gay,” Cubby says happily. “But if I woke up one day and found myself attracted to a woman or a nonbinary person, I wouldn’t think it was a problem.”
“Gay,” Sully says simply. “Never doubted that.”
Cubby gives my friend an eager nod, then turns back to me. “And you don’t even have to choose, if you don’t want to. Maybe you’ll decide you’re bi, or queer, or pan, or any number of things. Hell, maybe you’ll never feel attracted to another man after me.” He squeezes my hand. “I’m pretty special,” he jokes. “I’m sure no one would blame you.”
I squeeze his hand back. I appreciate all the encouragement, but it’s hard not to feel shy. They shouldn’t need to teach me this stuff. A man my age should know what he wants already.
“How about we just say I’m not straight for now and leave it at that?”
“Cheers to that!” Cubby says, raising his empty hand, which he stares at. “Oh, shoot. I need a beer. Anyone else?”
By the time he comes back with a couple of drinks, the conversation has moved on. Meg and Sully are getting along great, and it couldn’t be a more beautiful night. I’m able to go with the flow and have fun, but my discomfort lingers.
I wish I were a better man, the right man for Cubby. Someone experienced enough to keep him happy. Someone with a good enough job and enough savings that I could tell him not to worry about his career faltering a little at the start, that I’ll take care of him. But the truth is, I can’t even afford to take care of the people who are already in my life.
I always thought I had everything I needed right here in my hometown. But with the summer speeding by and Cubby’s departure looming, I’m not even sure of that anymore.
When I wander off to get another beer for myself, Cubby follows along, catching up to me by the huckleberry bushes. “Hey there,” he says, stepping by my side. “Everything okay?”
“What?” I hesitate. “Sure, of course. Beautiful night, right? Moon’s out and everything.”
Cubby glances up at the sky, rich with stars. “It is.” He slips his hand into mine, a reassuring warmth. “But really, you seem troubled. What’s up?”
I kick the dirt. “Just feeling down on myself, I guess. The three of you know yourselves and what you want, and I’m…” I trail off and shake my head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“I’m not worried about it.” Cubby’s free hand lands on my hip. “But I do want you to be happy, Chase.”
I grunt. “I’m happy. Just think you deserve to be with someone who knows what he’s doing. Shouldn’t have to teach me every time we do something new.”
Cubby waggles his eyebrows at me. “Does that mean we get to try something new tonight?”
I laugh. “Wasn’t sure you’d be into hooking up with our friends here.”
“I brought wet wipes for a reason.”
I run my hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “You’re almost too much, you know that?”
“I do. And I know you like it.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I really do.”
