When the hall light clicks off beneath the door, it gets darker still. The round blue night-light allows me to see just the shadow of him.
“My dad’s in bed now,” Matt says. “We can do whatever we want.”
“Like what?” I whisper.
“Like this.” His sleeping bag shushes against the rug as he rolls closer to me. A loose flap of the bag flops onto my bare arm. I slip my arm free, raising it above my head. Matt rolls into the gap beneath my arm. His head comes to rest on my shoulder. My chest, really. His cheek lands in the soft spot over my collarbone; his breath warms the skin above my heart.
“What if your dad comes in to check on us?”
“He won’t.”
“But what if he does?”
“He won’t. Relax.”
My muscles are statue-stiff, up to and including … well, isn’t it obvious? I mean, Matt Rincorn is lying against me. Holding me, with his arm across my middle. His elbow is right there on the band of my boxers. It’s all I can do to breathe, let alone relax.
“My dad is clueless. He thinks I’m the only gay kid in the world,” Matt says. “Not that you’re gay or anything.”
“You know I am.”
“Shhh.” His fingers find my lips in the dark. “You don’t have to.”
“You keep saying that,” I mumble. “But—”
“We don’t have to call it anything. I just want to lay like this.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking with me or what. Obviously, after the video game moment, he knows. And here we are now. The warmth of his body against mine is no joke. Kermit: zero. Impure thoughts: one thousand.
“Are you mad at me? I’m sorry I ever told you I wasn’t. It was…”
“Automatic.”
“Or something.”
“I’m not mad.”
“I’ll eventually … you know … tell people.” I don’t want to be one of those sad old dudes on TV who goes on a talk show and tells his wife of thirty years that he was secretly in love with her brother all that time. But what about the children???? the wife screeches, beating him with a houndstooth sofa cushion.
Why houndstooth? It’s Sheila’s voice echoing in my head now. That’s weirdly specific. You upholstery freak.
“My sister knew.” My friend Alex possibly also knows, but it seems like not such a good idea to mention another guy’s name right now.
“I’m glad you’re in the club now,” Matt says, snuggling against me. “Aren’t you?”
Is there a gay club? I mean, I know there are gay clubs, but … oh. He probably means Minus-One.
I don’t really know what to say to that. Because I am glad, and it makes me ashamed.
Matt smooths a finger over the collar of my T-shirt. “I’m not glad your sister died. You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m just glad you’re here right now.”
“Me too.”
“It’s lonely at night. Thinking about everything.”
“Thinking about what?”
“Everything.”
“You can tell me,” I whisper. “It doesn’t have to be like the club.”
It’s quiet for a while. His head moves, and I feel his breath against my neck. I wonder if we’re finally going to kiss.