Page 21 of Poet & Protector

“She always talks about how much fun you have in class,” Ansel whined, becoming increasingly distressed. “Did something happen between you guys? It did, didn’t it? Was it on one of the pack nights out that I’m not allowed to come to because Calla says I’m too young? Wait…is this why you’re not messaging me?! Have you been going out with Bryn???”

“Ansel—”

He was really spiraling. If he would only take a breath I could explain and save him from himself. So much for my brilliant plan of easing him into my situation.

“God, I knew I would never have a chance if you liked her.” He put his face in his hands and groaned. “You’re cute and smart and funny. All girls want that.”

“Stop!” I lunged forward, grabbed his shoulders, and gave him a hard shake. “I don’t like Bryn. That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

He sucked in a long breath as his eyes searched my face. “Seriously? You don’t?”

“I don’t,” I assured him, releasing his shoulders and returning to a cross-legged position on the floor. “And for the record, you’re cute, smart, and funny, too. Stop selling yourself short.”

“Are you sure you don’t like her?” His expression remained uncertain. “You’re not just saying that because I freaked out? I know I really freaked out. I’m sorry. You’re my best friend, Mason. If you like Bryn, we should talk about it.”

“Oh my god, Ansel.” Frustration took over. “I don’t like Bryn.”

“But—”

“I’m gay.”

He froze. I froze.

I hadn’t planned to blurt it out like that. Now the truth sat between us like a grenade with the pin pulled.

My stomach was in knots. My throat clogged by fear.

Ansel looked at me, frowning at first, then chewed his bottom lip. “You’re gay?”

All I could do was nod. My voice had left the room. Probably the planet.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “Mason, that’s…kind of huge.”

I nodded again.

He looked at me more closely, emotions flickering through his gray irises.

“Are you okay?” When I didn’t immediately reply, he quickly said, “I don’t mean it’s not okay that you’re gay. Of course that’s okay. I mean, are you scared? I would be scared. Wait, that sounds like I think you can’t handle it. That’s not what I mean either. I’m sorry. I’m messing this up. I don’t know what the right thing to say is.”

He stretched his hand toward mine, lightly grasping my fingers. “But you know I love you, right? You weren’t worried about that, were you? It doesn’t matter to me if you’re gay. Some of the Keeper rules are so stupid.”

I still hadn’t spoken and Ansel smiled sheepishly. “Though I have to tell you, I am really glad you don’t like Bryn.”

A choking sound spilled from my throat, chased by a flood of tears.

“Oh, Mason.” Ansel crawled over and put his arms around me.

I leaned into him, hiding my face in his shoulder as I cried. Before now, I’d fought off moments where I felt vulnerable, when the temptation to scream was overwhelming because I was so alone. It had been fear that drove me to the edge in the past, but now my tears were from relief.

Ansel knew. My best friend knew. And it was okay.

I cried for a while and Ansel just held me. Live sets from my favorite indie bands continued to fill the air, doing their best to muffle my sobs.

When all that bottled emotion finally emptied, I sat up.

“Sorry,” I said, grabbing a tissue from my nightstand.

“Don’t ever be sorry,” Ansel replied. “Thank you for telling me.”