Page 29 of String Boys

Matty and Isela were getting serious. Kelly said he’d seen Matty get home from “study sessions” with his sweatshirt on inside out a couple of times. Kelly would shake his head.

“He’d better not be getting that girl pregnant. Because then we’re stuck with her and her righteous stick up her ass about queer people and shit. Mom and Dad won’t let her or Matty talk about it at the dinner table, but I keep asking them where else they’re gonna hate next.”

He’d scowl when he said this. “They gonna start hating people browner than us? How’s that work? How about girls? We gonna make girls walk one step behind us? Only marry them when they prove they can squish out a puppy? I don’t get it. They don’t even like science. Matty tried to get out of his science unit because they were teaching evolution, but Mom and Dad said the only thing they had against evolution was that it seemed to make Matty stupider than his ancestors instead of smarter, and they thought he should go to school to figure out how in the hell that happened!”

Seth had guffawed at that—and then kissed Kelly stupid, until they were both panting and breathless with their hands up each other’s shirts, because this had been during a soccer day when Kelly and Seth got uninterrupted time together to just be them.

Apparently, just being them involved kissing a lot and feeling each other up a lot, and sometimes licking each other’s chests a lot.

Seth liked that part, because Kelly had found his nipples and liked to nibble, and that alone could bring Seth off like a bottle rocket most days. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t shoved their hands down the back of each other’s pants already, kneading and squishing and spreading and teasing.

They hadn’t yet ventured to the front, but it was only February, and they’d been doing this for two months, but not enough, not every day, not nearly enough for them to be familiar enough for Seth’s comfort.

He was starting to look things up on his computer, though, to see what maybe came next.

He was starting to think about Kelly before falling asleep at night, his hand drifting below the waistband of his shorts to see what that thing did when he took it out for a ride.

It could go zero to orgasm in about ten seconds when he imagined it was Kelly’s hand instead of his own.

Five if he thought about Kelly’s wide, smiling, swollen mouth.

He started maybe wondering what it would be like to put his mouth on Kelly’s… uh… oh. He couldn’t even think the word “dick” without getting an erection.

The only time he wasn’t thinking about sex with Kelly—and all the things they could do between touching lips and the other delicious stuff he’d learned on the internet—he was thinking about music.

It didn’t really leave room for thoughts about changing schools and becoming a part of a statewide orchestra and leaving everything he’d ever known behind.

In February, Valentine’s Day was on Soccer Wednesday—because sometimes God was kind. It was four days before Seth’s birthday, but he wasn’t really aware of that. His dad would take him and the Cruz family out for ice cream; that was the way of things.

It was Valentine’s Day that made him crazy.

All day long, girls from student government ran in and out of classrooms, delivering little white and red carnations. Boys and girls proudly flaunted the flower from their sweetheart, from their crush, or even from their bestie.

Seth had wanted Kelly to have a flower so bad.

But if he did, he’d have to buy it. He thought about lying, saying he was buying it for… for… and that was the problem.

Seth spoke to Matty and Kelly and the kids from the orchestra and that was it.

He couldn’t even think of a girl he could lie about and say, “This girl has a crush on my friend so I’m buying a flower.”

The thought of Bridgford suddenly intruded—of being somewhere without Matty and Kelly. Junior high had been a vortex of loneliness. If the Cruz boys hadn’t started going to the same high school, his entire life would be a vast echo chamber of all the dumb things running around his own head.

In fifth period, a girl from the student council ran into his Pre-Calculus class, a lone flower in her hand. She squinted at the name on the flower, looked around the class, and then read the name out loud, like she’d never heard of this person before, even though they’d both gone to Three Oaks Elementary School together.

“Seth Arnold?”

He raised his hand, and she ran the flower over to him. He took it shyly and stroked the petals, wondering if Kelly had found a girl to send it to him.

But when he opened the envelope, the name said “Amara,” and he blinked in surprise.

Amara? She was a flutist in the orchestra. They were both first chair players and had to come in for practices on solo work a lot. She was a dreamy, red-haired, moon-pale girl with wide green eyes and a soft pillowy body.

He stared at the flower and hoped it was just a friend thing, not a crush thing.Oh, please, let it not be a crush thing!

He contemplated throwing it away but didn’t. That would be hurtful. Kelly would understand if a girl had a crush. Amara wouldn’t understand if he trashed her thoughtfulness.

He pinned the flower to his shoulder and smiled a little at the teacher.