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ERIK

“ Y ou want me to be your tutor, don’t you?” Austin Gunn asked me when I stopped him after class.

I paused because I honestly hadn’t expected that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re the gorgeous hockey player who’s never approached me before no matter how many subtle little glances I’ve sent your way.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did. How could I not? You’re one hot tamale!”

I turned away. I must’ve blushed. Compliments were always nice, but I’d never been called a hot tamale before and knew no other way to react.

“And suddenly you want to talk to me,” he said. “It’s because your grades are in the toilet, and you need the uber dorky kid to help you catch up. You want to use me, but not for the reasons I would prefer.”

Oh my God…

“No, that’s not it,” I said. “And I’m gorgeous?”

“Yeah, you are. All you hockey guys are, but you’re way hotter than most of them, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all, trust me.”

In fact, you can say it all you want, and I’ll gladly eat it up, I thought.

“Oh wait,” he said, face beaming. “There's a reason you came to see me. Like, you really did notice those subtle glances?”

“Sorry, can’t say that I did, but I’ve got something to ask you. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“For sure!”

Only then did I realize why my classmate had gotten the wrong impression. In fact, he might hold on to that idea no matter how many times I corrected him. I wasn’t looking for a date, but I did want to pick his brain.

We stopped by the campus cafe, and I bought him the coffee I’d promised. Austin Gunn was a biology nerd who’d only made a hundred comments in class implying that he was gay and had gone through his share of boyfriends. His remarks about subtle glances more than confirmed it, right?

He was an average-sized guy, but judging by his firm look, he kept himself in decent shape.

Not a hockey player, but not bad. His ginger hair and beard suited him perfectly.

When I looked across the table, I realized for the first time that he was a really good-looking guy.

Sexy, even. I hadn’t gotten into the habit of rating guys other than Kayden, but you could say Austin Gunn looked damn good in a hot nerd sort of way.

When we sat down, I said, “This is going to sound weird.”

“Try me.”

“I need to ask you what it’s like being gay. Asking for a friend.”

I winced, knowing that was one of the more cringeworthy comments I would ever make. And I’d made it in front of someone I didn’t know particularly well. How would he react?

“So, you’re asking me what a day in the life is like?

” he asked. “Well, I wake up in the morning, take a shower with the most fruity-smelling body wash I can find, and dry off with my Pride flag towel. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I also sing show tunes in the shower. And as the hot water sprays my delicious body, I stroke my member while thinking about a young Brad Pitt. ”

“No, no, no, that’s not the type of thing I wanted to ask you.”

A laugh sputtered out of my mouth when I’d said it. I covered my face.

“Then what did you want to ask?”

“I was really curious about how things work. Like, are gay relationships different from hetero relationships?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy, dude,” he said.

“How do you figure? You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m a gold-star gay guy.”

“Gold star? ”

“A gold star gay guy has never been with a woman. Period. That’s why I can’t tell you the real difference between gay and hetero relationships.”

Normally, I would’ve already regretted this conversation, but not this time. I had the feeling that Austin could tell me what I needed to know one way or another.

“Okay,” I said, “let me rephrase that. Do you think gay and hetero relationships have anything in common.”

“Sort of. The gay guy relationships have just guys in them, but I would bet my life that at least one of the guys is stubborn as a mule.”

“Yes!!”

People around us turned to stare. Only then did I realize I’d raised both arms in the air. Oh my god, what the hell was I doing?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to get carried away. I just know how some guys can be.”

“And when two guys are involved, it only doubles the chance of one being hardheaded.”

“Amen.”

“But you haven’t told me your problem. I mean, your friend’s problem.”

“It is my friend’s problem.”

He sipped his coffee, but his eyes never left me. And he didn’t seem to be checking me out, per se. He gave me a very light, “ Suuuuure, whatever you say, Erik” look.

“Are you sure this isn’t your way of telling me you’ve noticed my subtle glances?”

He flitted his eyebrows at me, acting so hopeful.

“I’m sure,” I said. “My friend’s problem is that he’s been dating this guy for a while. They’re almost nothing alike, except they do have one major thing in common.”

“They love to ride the bologna pony, right?”

“Well, there’s that, but I’m saying one major thing has made them seriously competitive with one another.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And my friend loves this guy. Like for real love, not just lust. He never saw any of it coming, but he’s willing to go with the flow, see where love takes them.”

“Right.”

“And then he tells his boyfriend that he loves him, but the other guy won’t say it back. Wait, that’s not true. He will say it back, but my friend has no idea if he means it or it’s one way to keep getting into my friend’s pants any time he wants to.”

“Ah, that old ploy.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad, though. It’s more like my friend doesn’t know if his boyfriend wants or can even imagine a future together. Worse, he won’t come out or even tell a small group of people who they really are.”

“That’s straight guys for you.”

I waited for him to say no offense, but it didn’t come.

“Or supposedly straight guys,” I said.

“Right.”

“Anyway, my friend really believes deep in his heart that they can have a future together. His boyfriend probably wants it, too, in a weird way, but he’s a little insecure and keeps putting up walls.”

“The textbook definition of a closet case.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Only they’re not straight guys, not really. That’s just the charade they want to keep up for the world. They’re hopelessly in the closet.”

“And my friend is worried that his boyfriend will never come out.”

“Maybe he won’t.”

Austin sounded so matter-of-fact, his first and only truly serious comment of the conversation.

“But you don’t understand,” I said. “My friend is ready. He doesn’t have it all figured out, but he’s tired of living a lie. He might only tell a few people—you know, other than me—but being totally open about it doesn’t sound like such a bad thing. But his boyfriend…forget about it.”

“So, one is very ready and the other might never be.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“ What? I bought you a coffee and poured my friend’s heart out, and you don’t know what to tell me?”

“Why would I know all the answers?”

“Because you’re the gay guy, that’s why.”

He rolled his eyes and really seemed to be trying not to shake his head. Either way, I knew how ridiculous I’d sounded.

I also realized that I’d started to sound too much like Kayden for my liking. All I wanted was to know how to fix my problem.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just a little frustrating. I have no idea what to tell my friend now.”

“Okay, I might not have all the answers, but I can tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If one guy is that ready to come out and the other is clinging for dear life to his heterosexual identity, it’s not going to work.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But what if my friend can think of a really clever way to ease his boyfriend into it? He’ll come around, won’t he?”

“No way in hell, hon. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, what the hell is my friend supposed to do?”

“Thank god he’s finding out now so he can save himself all kinds of pain and heartache.”

I leaned back in my seat, trying to calm myself. Really, I wanted to jump out of my seat and start pacing because Austin’s comment had hit me that hard. But I had to stay calm or else I would give everything away.

“So, you’re saying there’s absolutely no hope?” I asked.

“I didn’t say absolutely none . But it’s going to be next to impossible to keep things going when one person wants something and the other is totally against it. Trust me, you don’t have to be the gay guy in class to figure that out.”

He was right. I realized just then how few open gay people I’d ever discussed the topic with. Maybe I’d gone to him hoping like hell that he would have the answers I needed but knowing deep down that it wouldn’t be so easy.

“Thanks anyway,” I said, as we got up from the table.

“No problem. You know, I’ve always wanted to date a hockey player. I might have to go find myself one. What’s Ryan Detenbeck doing? Or Braxton Wilson?”

I smiled. “I don’t know, but I’ll be glad to send them your best.”

“I can’t tell you the things I’d like to do with a godly hockey player. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What’s that?”

“What’s it like to shower with all those hockey players? Like, how do you stop yourself from getting an erection?”

I couldn’t help laughing again. This Austin Gunn kid was the same outside the classroom as he was in it.

“I don’t know, dude,” I said. “I just try to think real hard…and keep the water ice cold.”

“That’s the only way I would ever survive that, hon.”

Despite the laughter, I found it hard not to feel a little depressed. I mean, Austin hadn’t meant to burst my balloon. He was just being honest. In a weird way, that was still more valuable than anything.

Just before we parted ways, I said, “You won’t go around saying anything about my friend and his boyfriend, will you?”

He eyed me with that same cheeky look he’d worn through most of our meeting.

“Oh hon, it’s not for me or anyone else to out you. You’ve got to do it in your own way and in your own good time.”

This time, I didn’t bother correcting him.