Page 20

Nate

I manage to convince Marcos to video chat with me two times over the remainder of the summer.

We text almost daily, although the content is never anything crazier than things I’ve said to Micky.

Everything between us points to friendship and nothing more, and I can’t pretend that I’m not a little disheartened by it.

And still confused as hell, I realize, as a dark-haired man crosses my path on my way to class and I nearly dislocate my neck to see if it’s Marcos.

It’s not him, and I’m hit with such a profound wave of disappointment, I feel almost sick with it.

Suddenly feeling twitchy with nerves, I step off the path and pull out my phone.

We’ve been back at school for almost a month. I want to see him.

Nate

Hey are you in class right now?

Marcos

Heading that way, yeah.

Nate

Can we meet up?

Maybe after practice?

I can come to you or meet wherever.

He takes so fucking long to reply, I anticipate the answer before it even comes.

I groan when he declines, saying he’s too busy today, but maybe another day.

A group of girls walk by laughing, and I look up to see a couple familiar faces.

I try to return the smiles, but I also don’t want anyone to stop and try and make small talk with me.

I don’t want to talk to girls or other guys or anyone else. I want to talk to fucking Marcos.

“Hello, my friend.”

Turning around, I see Vas walking up the sidewalk toward me, one hand raised and a pleasant smile on his face. I try to give him a real smile back, but I’m just not feeling it.

“Hey, Vas.”

“Are you going this way? I shall walk with you.” He gestures toward one of the English buildings. I shake my head.

“No.”

“Ah. Well, that is fine as we shall see each other later at practice, yes?”

“Yeah,” I agree, wishing practice was right-the-fuck-now.

I feel like I could run a half-marathon and still not be tired enough to go to sleep.

Tucking my phone back in my pocket now that I know Marcos won’t see me today, I wipe my hands on my legs.

“You heading to communications? My friend mentioned you guys had a class together. ”

What my roommate actually mentioned was finding Vas annoying, but Atlas could make himself annoyed at the sky for being blue. He’ll get over it eventually, and fall in love with Vas just like the rest of us.

“Oh, are you meaning Atlas?” he asks, and waits for my nod before he continues. The smile dims only a little before he fixes it back into place. “I do not think he enjoys me very much.”

“I don’t think Atlas enjoys much of anything,” I say honestly, and clap him bracingly on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, buddy. You’ll bring him over to the dark side eventually.”

Vas looks like he wants to argue against being on the dark side, but settles for a slightly bemused headshake.

We chat for a few more minutes before he strides off to class.

I watch him go, now thinking about my grumpy roommate and the fact that he once told me he was bisexual.

Maybe he’s someone I can talk to. Someone who would help me figure out…

well, me. Hitching my bag up my shoulder, I fall into step with a pair of girls walking across the lawn.

“Hello, ladies,” I greet them. Rachel, who’s seen me naked several times, sidles closer and puts her arm around my waist.

“Nate! You coming to the Delta Gamma party tonight?” I start shaking my head before she finishes speaking and she pouts. “Oh come on, it’ll be fun! We can catch up. It’s been forever .”

She gives my waist a little squeeze and looks up at me.

I think about it for a second, knowing that she’s probably offering something additional to just “catching up,” but even the prospect of getting laid doesn’t entice me.

Honestly, I really just want to go home and talk to Atlas about how he knew he was bi.

I want to lie in bed and text Marcos, which is certifiably insane.

Am I really going to turn down the promise of a warm bed and a willing partner for the mere possibility of a conversation with Marcos? Turns out I am.

“I can’t tonight, sorry, Rach.”

She sighs, gives me another squeeze, and lets go. “All right, but text me, okay? We can get together some other time.”

“Sure,” I agree, but am distracted by the buzzing of my phone in my pocket. When I check the screen, my heart beats its way into my throat at the sight of Marcos’ name.

Marcos

I’m sorry, Nate.

Maybe this weekend?

Nate

I’m going to hold you to that.

Marcos

I hope that you do.

Atlas is no fucking help whatsoever. Neither is Google, and after falling down an anal-sex rabbit hole, I decide to shut it down and stop trying to answer questions about myself via the internet.

All I’ve earned is a sleepless night, and more questions now than answers.

Marcos and I have hooked up twice—three times if you count the phone sex—so I’d say it’s pretty clear that I’m into guys.

I just don’t understand how it happened.

I’m twenty years old, and just like that I’m bi?

Something else? How the hell have I gone my entire life without knowing this about myself?

I’m ashamed, all of a sudden, like it’s only just hit me how clueless I am.

I’ve been queer for only a handful of months, and am already failing at it.

Or, even worse, maybe I’ve been queer my entire life and am just so stupid I never noticed.

It’s not the fact that I’m a man who is attracted to men that’s the problem. My biggest problem is I know a lot of people, but somehow I’m feeling alone in this. I’m a talker, and right now I really need someone to listen. Atlas was the wrong choice, which means I’ve only got one other option.

Stopping at the coffee cart that’s always parked in front of the science buildings, I get two large hot chocolates and make my way over to the dorms. It takes me a second to remember which one Micky lives in, but eventually I end up somewhere that looks familiar.

Knowing he’s on the top floor, I take the stairs and once again have to stop and think about which door is his.

A couple have music playing, which means I can count those out—Micky would never play music that loud.

Picking a random door, I balance the cups and knock.

“Oops,” I say, when a stranger opens it. I smile at him, but he only glares back. “Sorry, did I wake you up? I’m looking for Jack McIntire’s room.”

“End of the hall, jackass.” He points down the hall before slamming the door. Apparently, the occupant of 7F is not a morning person.

Heading down to the door he indicated, I knock and wait once more. Eventually, it cracks open and Micky peers suspiciously out at me.

“Good morning,” I greet him cheerfully. He opens the door wider, looking surprised to see me.

“Nate? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Can’t I stop by and surprise my friend? Nothing’s wrong, buddy. Let me in.” I slip past him, and watch as he closes and locks the door behind me. Holding out a cup, I wait for him to take it. When he doesn’t, I prompt him. “This is for you, Mick.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He blows ineffectually across the top as though trying to cool it down, before taking a sip. His eyes light up. “Hot chocolate!”

“Please.” I snort. “Did you think I brought you coffee? It’s like you think I don’t know you at all.”

“Thanks, Nate,” he repeats, with more feeling this time. “What’s up? Have a seat. Do you want anything?”

Flopping down onto his bed, I kick my shoes off and take a sip of hot chocolate. Micky sits next to me, still looking nervous. Now that I’m here, I’m a little nervous. I’m going to scandalize the poor guy, asking about his thoughts on an identity crisis.

“So,” I start, taking another sip to buy myself some time. “I think I might be bisexual. I’ve done a few gay things recently.”

Glancing over at Micky, I meet his eyes over the rim of his cup. There’s already a flush coloring his freckled face.

“Uhm.” He lowers the drink, bending over to set it on the ground next to the bed. “Are you…did you just come out to me?”

“Huh. I guess I did.” Setting my own drink on the floor, I lie back and pillow my head on my arms. “I don’t know, though, Mick. I think I need to just talk this out.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. Okay. I can talk.” He clears his throat. “Listen, I mean.”

“All right. So, I met this guy at a party last year and I was feeling him. Like…I looked across the room, and there he was, and I just…” I trail off, feeling oddly embarrassed. “Anyw ay, so I sucked his dick and now I’m obsessed with him.”

Micky’s face is an alarming shade of red, now, freckles nearly obliterated beneath the blush. He clears his throat and twitches his shoulder in a partial shrug.

“Yikes,” he says, as though unable to think of another response to that.

“Yikes,” I agree. “And then we had phone sex, and he gave me a blowjob. And then we talked all summer, which was great. But…like, how the fuck does this happen? Take right now, for example. I’m looking at you and I’m thinking wow, look how cute Micky is with all those freckles.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, cheeks crimson.

“Before I met Marcos, I felt like my interest in guys was more…an appreciation? Like, I’d look at a man and think about how I wanted to have arms like that. But now it’s like, maybe I’m appreciating the way you look because I want to fuck you, not look like you.”

“Oh my god,” Micky repeats. Picking up his hot chocolate, he takes an overly large gulp and coughs a little bit.