He huffed a laugh and lifted his hotdog for a closer inspection. “Actually, I’m a former fat kid who is pathologically terrified of being an outsider.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Given the way he took a small, tentative bite in the silence that followed, maybe he felt the same.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, chewing hard.
“Is that…?”
“The reason I’ve been fucking up Otis’s life since the first day I met him? Probably. Or maybe I’m just an irrefutable asshole with no redeemable qualities.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
That shoulder lifted again, and he took a deliberate bite of his bun.
A car rolled past, windows shaking from the bass pumping out of their speakers.
“If they’re going to play music that loudly, they could at least put something good on,” I muttered and startled at Harvey’s chuckle.
“No accounting for taste, I guess.” He took a small sip of his soda.
“Can I ask what’s going on with you and Otis?”
The morning after Tobias’s overdose, I’d checked the tabloids, terrified the news had somehow got out, only to find photos of Otis kissing a fan center stage at the concert I’d missed. We’d released a statement declaring love is love, and we wouldn’t be answering any questions at this time, but I hadn’t wanted to disrupt Otis’s newfound sobriety with difficult questions until it was necessary.
“I’m not gay.” The statement was a closed door. His knuckles whitened where he gripped his knee, and his body seemed to lock down, braced for an attack that wouldn’t come from me.
“You know, the first time Ruby hooked up with a girl, she was ecstatic. I’m talking, dancing down the street, commissioning T-shirts that readPussy-Licker, screaming about girl love from the rooftops, kind of happy. She refused to answer to anything butQueen of the Lesbiansfor a week because she was so proud she made a girl come so hard she forgot her own name.”
Harvey huffed a laugh, and I grinned.
“Yeah, it shouldn’t surprise you that my girl has a dramatic streak. You know she gave me one of those damn T-shirts for my twenty-first birthday? She’s a menace. Anyway…a couple of months go by and she meets this guy. He’s rough around the edges, rides a motorbike, and treats her like a goddess—which means he can fuck her into oblivion and back. Her worldview shifted, and she realized that she wasn’t one hundred percent a card-carrying lesbian. Before you ask, yes, there were tears and a few bottles of wine before she realized that she didn’t have to choose. Sexuality is a scale, not a binary. Ruby is further toward the lesbian side of bisexual, but she will still enjoy the right cock. She isn’t defined by the person she’s spending time with in that moment; it’s about who she feels happiest with. If Otis makes you happy, then fuck what anyone else wants to label you. Be you. Be happy.”
“But what if I enjoy the arrangement we have?” he asked his feet.
“Do you?”
His smirk was as dangerous as ever as he finally looked me in the eye.
“Yeah, I really fucking do.”
“But you want to be with Otis?”
His confirmation came slower this time.
“Then maybe you’re bisexual. Or maybe it’s more about the person and less about the parts, in which case you might be pan or hetero-flexible. The point is that you don’t have to choose a label if you don’t want to.”
An airplane rumbled overhead, breaking through the silence of the street around us as Harvey seemed to process my words. Togive him space, I picked up my hotdog and focused on devouring the whole bun before finishing my cola. After a moment, he did the same.
“Would it put an end to our arrangement?” he asked softly as we dropped our trash in the can.
I should have said yes. Stepped aside and let them work through what they needed to, but selfishly, I’d enjoyed my time with Harvey.
“No. I’d still be available as long as both of you were happy with the arrangement.”
He nodded and climbed into the passenger seat of the hire car I’d organized for our outing.
The drive back to the bus went quickly, and we pulled up as the twins stepped out of the bus.
