I sat in English class the next morning, yawning and nursing a cup of coffee.
“Okay, today we’ll be starting our unit on Fifth Business, so if you could come up row by row to sign out your copies…”
Our teacher’s explanation of the same procedure used in every class a half dozen times per year washed over me, and I closed my eyes to doze…until I felt a buzz in my pocket. I flipped open my cellphone, smiling when I saw “Brent Wang” on my screen. I resisted the urge to look across the classroom at him, worried that I’d eventually do it too often to hide the emotion on my face.
As far as everyone else knew, we were just football teammates. We had been talking about our relationship since we were a week or so into it, and we were still trying to figure out where we stood as far as coming out as a couple.
I flipped to the bottom of my texts, ignoring the unread one at the top for now. I was looking for the oldest text in there—the first text I had sent to him.
~ You can be my secret boyfriend. The football jocks would kill us if they caught us playing tonsil hockey.
I smiled again and then realized that I was supposed to be getting up and signing out my book. Brent brushed into me as we walked past each other, and I turned to look at him—or, more specifically, look at his ass since he was turned around, though I tried not to stare too long or too hard.
I signed out my book, sat, and flipped my phone open to the unread message.
~ So. Hat trick tonight??
A “hat trick” for us was three days in a row of being together. Since that first text, we’d stuck to vague hockey euphemisms for pretty much everything in our relationship—we knew it was lame, but it amused us, and I practically melted whenever we’d say something intimate that sounded innocuous to anyone who might overhear.
I hit reply, but it buzzed before I could start typing. I switched back to read what he’d sent.
~ can we talk after class?
Of course
I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but he was usually more graceful about changing topics. He was steadfastly staring at the teacher, though, so I sighed and let it stew until the end of the period.
As the bell rang, he appeared next to my desk, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other.
I raised my eyebrow. “Should I be more worried than I am?”
“I dunno. Ready?” He averted his eyes.
I shook my head, my worry escalating, and slung my bag over my shoulder. “Okay, let’s head out. Starbucks run?”
“Can we walk there? Wanna talk about something.”
“Clearly.” I felt a bit sick—it was extending the length of the walk by half to go to Starbucks first, and usually we’d take the bus—but nodded. “Sure, I guess.” I smiled, holding back what I felt, hoping it would help Brent calm down. He was pretty agitated.
We walked out of the building in silence, and whenever I stole a look, he hurriedly looked the other way. By the time we hit the intersection and got away from the mass of students without a word, I was almost sure this was The Talk.
“So you said you wanted to talk, right? I hear that uses sound these days,” I said.
He chuckled nervously. “You’re not gonna like this.”
Let me guess—we can still be friends? I closed my eyes, breathing in slowly to calm myself. “What am I not gonna like?”
“Alex is cheating on Holly.”
I choked on the breath I’d sucked in. When I eventually stopped coughing, I said, “He—what? How do you know?”
“Scott’s his best friend. Or, uh, was, I guess. I have no idea what’s up with them anymore.”
“Your brother told you?”
“No.”
I waited a second for an elaboration. “So, then…”
“I heard him complaining to Lily, his, uh…” He went pink around the ears. “His ‘friend with benefits.’ She’s been spending the night at Alex’s a bunch to work on projects.”
“Oh. Well…well, shit. Holly’s going to flip.”
“No—you can’t tell her. Not…not yet.”
“I can’t not tell her.”
“Scott will kill me!”
I sighed. “When can I tell her, then? I can’t keep this from her forever.”
“Let me try to figure out if it was just once, okay? I know Scott’s already pissed at Alex, and—”
“Whatever,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. I didn’t want to tick him off, but now I had to sit on this, and I had no clue how long I’d be able to keep it from Holly.
“Listen, please—don’t tell her yet.” He pulled me into the bus shelter and into a hug. I tried to lean in to kiss him, but he shied away, the worry clear on his face. “I promise I’ll talk to Scott about it as soon as I can, and I’ll find out more.”
“You’re going to talk to your brother about it.”
“Yes.”
“You’re insane.” I stepped back out onto the street. Brent followed, still looking nervous. We turned into the plaza where Starbucks was. “It’s okay, h—dude,” I said, noticing his ears turning bright red. I’d almost called him “hon” in public. That could have been bad.
“I’ll do it for you…dude,” he said.
I looked up at him and grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
I punched him in the shoulder affectionately—the closest to a hug we were going to be doing in public—and opened the door to the Starbucks, gesturing for him to walk in ahead of me.
Holly is going to kill someone when she finds out about this.