Page 2 of The Art of Drowning

Because even if I was gay, Damien wasn’t. I’d seen him at school with girlfriends. He never had to try to look interested in them. He never had to work up the courage to kiss them or hold their hand. And I bet those things made him feel good.

They just made me feel empty. And kind of sad. Because I wanted those things too, but not with Emily, or Lindsey, or Ashley.

I was a boy, and I wanted to hold hands with another boy. And that boy wanted to hold hands with girls. I didn’t know much about being gay. I wasn’t even sure I was doing it right, but I did know that it was like a rite of passage for a gay man to fall for a straight one.

Lucky for me, he was Sam’s best friend and completely off-limits.

“The fuck is up with you?” Sam asked a few days later. I’d slowly come to terms with the fact that I was gay, definitely, irrevocably, unchangeably gay, but I didn’t know what to do with that information.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve barely spoken in days. You avoid everyone like the plague. Even Damien noticed that you’ve been weird.”

My heart went wild in my chest. Damien noticed me. But then it fell, crashing to the pit of my stomach. He noticed and thought I was being weird.

“I’m not weird.” I couldn’t help but feel hurt and kind of defensive over Damien’s opinion.

“No one said you are, dork. I said you’re acting weird. Acting weird isn’t the same as being weird.”

I scoffed, feeling no better. “Says the one who wasn’t accused of being weird.”

“Seriously, dude, don’t make me tell Mom that you’re being weird.”

I shuddered. Mom was a good mother. She taught us how to clean up after ourselves, even if we didn’t always do it. She taught us how to cook, and she always had our backs. She was also a therapist, and most of the time she was good at being just our mom and not our counselor, but every so often she’d let her inner therapist out and it drove both Sam and me insane.

“Don’t tell Mom,” I begged. I’d die if I had to tell Mom that I was being weird because I was gay. And that I only knew I was gay because watching Damien get in and out of our pool all summer had cemented my sexuality once and for all.

“So you are being weird.” Sam sounded a little smug, a little triumphant.

I almost didn’t want to tell him, but the secret was starting to claw at my insides. It wasn’t going to be a secret for long or for forever, but the idea of telling Sam… what if he told Damien? What if it made Damien stop coming over? I didn’t think it would; Damien wasn’t like that. But maybe… and if it did, at least he wouldn’t be around to torture me anymore.

“I—Sam… fuck. I—” The words were bricks in the bottom of my stomach. “I’m…” I paused and took a deep breath. My head spun a little, either from the heat or from the stress of the moment.

“I’m not weird,” I managed to say. “Just… going through some stuff.”

Sam was quiet for a second, and then he laughed. “Who isn’t? You’re not special, you know.”

Sam’s laughter had an edge to it, but it was still classic Sam, finding humor in stressful situations.

“Do you need, like… help or something?” Sam looked like the question came out involuntarily, and like he hated that he’d asked to begin with.

“I think I just need you to stop calling me weird is all.”

I shook my head, horrified as the thought of coming out to Sam crossed my mind. I wasn’t ready for anyone else to know. I’d barely admitted it to myself.

“Lame.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But I guess I can cut you some slack, weirdo.”

He winked and, for the first time all day, I was able to exhale. Maybe I’d be okay after all.

TWO

damien

NOW

“You can’t go back there alone.” Bowie, my best friend and business partner, shot me a sympathetic, worried look.

“I have to.” I stuffed a couple changes of clothes into a suitcase and avoided meeting his gaze. Bowman Sinclair, aka Bowie, had been my best friend for years, ever since I moved away after high school. The plan had originally been to follow Sam to college, but when everything blew up between us, I no longer had the stomach to follow him anywhere. I’d moved in the opposite direction, in fact, putting even more distance between us.