Then Rowan can be heard again, muffled: “Give me the phone. Give me—hi, Patrick.”
“Hi,” I say. “Where does Elias live?”
“I’m not giving you his address,” Rowan replies.
I narrow my eyes. “Why not?”
“Because, despite his many flaws, he does not deserve to be hunted for sport,” he explains.
“I’m not hunting him for sport,” I argue. “I’m fixing a problem. I just need to—”
“Patrick,” Rowan says, cutting me off, “I thought I was straight too.”
I pause, confused about what Rowan’s sexuality has to do with anything.
He continues, softer now and more serious, “And then I kissed Julian, and it turns out…sometimes who you are isn’t who you thought you were supposed to be.”
I frown, my grip on the phone loosening a little.
“It’s not easy,” he adds. “But pretending otherwise won’t make it go away. You need to listen to what you actually want, instead of what you think you should want.”
I let that sit for a second and turn the words over in my head.
Then I ask, “Did you kiss Julian after Elias did the spell?”
Rowan hesitates. “Well, yes, but—”
“Are you sure the spell didn’t turn you gay too?”
There’s a beat.
“…Oh my god,” Rowan says slowly. “Am I gay because of the spell?”
I nod, even though he can’t see it. “See? That’s what I’m trying to figure out—”
“Okaaay,” Julian cuts in, voice suddenly closer as he takes the phone back. “The spell is broken, and he still likes kissing me, so we’re going to go ahead and sayno.”
I huff. “Sure, but—”
“Patrick,” Julian says, gentler now, “the spell doesn’t create feelings. It just…makes them harder to ignore.”
I hum, unconvinced.
He sighs. “Look, leave Elias alone. He’ll probably just make it worse. You need to talk to Colten. That’s what helped us—communication.”
“Iwouldtalk to Colten,” I snap, frustration flaring again. “But he left, and he’s ignoring me even though hepromisedhe wouldn’t do that again.”
Julian’s quiet for a second.
Then, he says, “Maybe he just needs space. You might’ve hurt him, even if you didn’t mean to.”
“But how did I hurt him?” I ask, my voice cracking. I know he’s hurt, I know he’s mad at me but—why?!Why couldn’t he just stick around and actually talk to me?
Aren’t we best friends?
“I don’t think I can say,” Julian says, which is extremely unhelpful.
“Whatever,” I mutter. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. He’s had enough space.”
