This is the most mortifying moment of my life.
ㅤ
There has been a rise in homophobic incidents in school. I have been relatively spared, to be honest, but not every out person in school has the chance to have a popular, protective older brother. Still. There have been a few comments. I tried my best to not let it get to me, but you always reach a moment where these repeated attacks, however faint, immature, and unimportant become tiring at best, but most likely hurtful.
I don’t know any of them. Why do they think that they have the right to comment and judge my life? Not even my life. Being gay isn’t my life. It’s just a part of me. A part that they shouldn’t even have to know. I never asked, and never will, about who they want to date. And even if I knew, I wouldn’t care. It isn’t that interesting. But, apparently, being gay is either brave or unnatural. Everyone has an opinion and everyone wants me to know it. It’s tiring. I reached a stage where even the uninvited supportive comments annoy me. Why do they care? Why do they think I care?
I could still manage all of that. The mortifying part is how the school decided to deal with it… Every student has to write an essay about tolerance, what it means to them, and how to make it a key value for tomorrow’s society. Their words, not mine. The issue with this is that everyone sort of blames me – and the other people out in the school – for it. As if I wanted to spend my free time writing about tolerance when, really, I should be exempt.
Not that I don’t believe that gay people can’t be intolerant, some people might find me very judgemental and they would probably be right, but given that the school is doing this to battle homophobia…
Anyway. The school’s other great idea was to offer students to pair up. Not with anyone, of course, but with people that could be targeted by intolerance. Gay, POC, fat… and that they could get extra credits for it. Which pretty much means that the school decided to promote inclusion by singling out some students. Great thinking there. No surprise: our headmaster is a white old male. And I don't blame him particularly. At least he is trying. It would just be nice if he did it with intelligence.
I have already told seven people (in slightly better terms) to go get lost today and it’s barely lunch. I am definitely not going to pair up with someone I barely know and open up about my struggles. Except maybe Maisie.
As soon as she sits down, I ask her: “Do you want to work on the tolerance project together?”
“Why? Are you struggling to relate to the topic?”
“No, I want people to stop asking me to work with them.”
“Unless you are planning on making some sort of public announcement, people won’t know that we are working together, and they will keep asking. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one…”
“Never mind. Do you want to work with me or not?”
“I can’t. I will be working with Zach Pearson.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s cute, that I never got a chance to talk to him, and before he moved here he used to live in an Indian reservation, which I am genuinely interested in discussing with him. So you’re on your own on this one.”
“You’re not a very good best friend, you know that?”
“I am an outstanding best friend,” she replies. “And if you were one too, you’d be happy for me.”
“I am actually happy for you. Go get him and all of that. I just resent people slightly more than I value your happiness.” She knows I don’t mean any of that so she smiles at me. But her eyes are still calling me a drama queen.
ㅤ
I thought that would be the end of it and I was more than ready – happy even – to complete the assignment on my own, but as I was waiting for Adam by his car, Caleb showed up.
“Hey,” he tells me.
“Hey. Isn’t Adam with you?”
“Nope. I saw him with Clara, so… he might be a while.”
“He never makes you wait too long.” That’s true. He’ll happily make me wait an hour but with Caleb here, I’m pretty sure he will show up within fifteen minutes.
“Actually, that might be for the best. I have something to ask you.”
“Really?” Caleb and I have exchanged a total of ten words that weren’t just pleasantries. What could he possibly have to ask me?
He smiles and I can’t help but wonder if that is the first time he directly smiled at me. “Yes, really. Feel free to say no, but would you like to work with me on that extra essay we have to write?”
I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Really? Him too? I thought that our first-ever conversation would be a little more meaningful. Actually, no, I never thought we’d have a proper conversation just him and me, but really hoped that if we did, it would be a nice moment. Not him asking me to pair up on a piece of homework because I’m the only gay person he knows.
“Why?” I ask him.
He seems a little embarrassed and it takes him a few seconds to answer. “I could really use the extra credit and… I don’t think I could write something on my own. I could ask the guys from the team, but… to be brutally honest, you are the smartest person I know. I get it if you’d rather work on your own or with Maisie.”
I think it’s the first time this week that someone defined me by something other than my sexuality and it would probably be refreshing if it weren’t simply surprising. “More academic,” I reply, my brain working on autopilot.
“Sorry?”
“I might be more academic than you, that doesn’t necessarily make me smarter.”
His smile is back and it is very endearing. “True. I still think you’re smarter though.”
I shrug. “To answer your other question… Maisie found another partner, so we can work together.”
“Really?” he asks, visibly surprised.
“Yes, really. I don’t want to do it so I need someone to motivate me.” I don’t add that part of me just wants that opportunity to spend time with him without Adam. Not that I hope anything would come of it, I just think he is a nice person and I want to get to know him. Without the overshadowing presence of my brother.
ㅤ
Because we pick him up every day, I know the front of Caleb’s house off by heart, but it is actually the first time I step inside.
Although his house is smaller than mine, it also seems more spacious. It is probably what happens when there aren't three children just leaving their stuff around all the time. In the living room, there is a case full of trophies, medals, and certificates of achievements. I have seen Caleb swim before, and Adam has told me many times that he is a great athlete, maybe the most promising in the team, but I never really realized until now.
I know he mentioned my academic success with a hint of envy but I have never competed in anything and even less gotten awards. Not since elementary school anyway and we all know what those are worth.
“What is it like?” I ask him.
“What is what like?”
“Being the best at something.”
He stands next to me and looks at the case for a few seconds. “I don't know,” he eventually replies. “I'll tell you when I get there.” There is no real or false modesty in his voice, just sheer determination. This is his dream and, right now, I believe in it with him.
Then he looks back at me and adds: "But if I want to get to college, I need all the extra credits I can get."
“Right. Let's get to work!”
“Liam… Thank you for doing this. Really.”
“No problem.” And this is an odd feeling. Because I would have hated doing this with – or for – anyone else. But when it comes to Caleb… I obviously don't know him very well, all our interactions have happened through my brother, but… I have liked every single one of them. He is kind, he is fun, he is caring, he is smarter than he thinks, and even when he asks something of me, it doesn't feel like he is taking anything.
“Do you want to work in the living room or in my bedroom?” Caleb asks.
“I don't mind.”
“The living room has more space but my mom should be back soon and my room has more privacy.” He blushes and blurts: “I didn't mean it like that.”
“I know,” I reply with a forced polite smile. I very painfully know. “Your room is fine.”
ㅤ
His room isn't as tidy as the rest of the house and he mumbled an apology but I like it. It's not that bad, it's definitely not worse than my own room, and I can tell that he cleaned a little for me. That makes me smile and it might be the first genuine smile that hasn't been prompted by Maisie that I've had all week.
His desk is neat and the assignment has been printed and lays there tidily. There is a chair in front of it and an armchair next to the desk. He awkwardly gestures for me to take the armchair. I do. It is super comfortable.
“That is a very nice spot,” I tell him. “I could see myself reading here.” Wow. That was absolutely inappropriate. “Not that I am going to overtake your bedroom, you know, I just—”
“You can come and read here any time,” he says, looking into his schoolbag for a pencil case. “But you’d have to fight your brother for the spot.”
“That is just like Adam to just take the best spot.”
Caleb shrugs. “I don’t mind. I happen to prefer sitting on the bed or on the desk.”
“Don’t let him bully you for the best spot, he already does that at home.”
“Well… he is my team captain.”
“True, but… Did you say on the desk?”
“Yeah. It’s an old habit. I know it’s weird. I’m not entirely sure where it comes from.”
“I am not going to judge you as we are about to write an essay on tolerance,” I tell him and he smiles, amused.
“Speaking of… let’s get started. Have you read the list of questions?”
“I actually made a point not to.”
“Okay, Mr. Mad At The World,” he replies and it might be the first time he ever made fun of me. When Adam does it, it annoys me. When Maisie does it, I ignore it. When he does it… I think it flusters me somehow. “Let’s start with that, then.”
ㅤ
We have a different set of questions when we work in a pair and the essay is supposed to reflect both what it was like for me to be interviewed by a peer, and what he learned from it.
“Hey, Caleb?”
“Yes?”
“How do you feel about taking risks on this essay?”
He looks at me for a few seconds, clearly torn. He needs the extra credits and I get that he wants to play it safe. That’s sort of what we agreed on. But, at the same time, there is a trust in his eyes that I almost don’t understand. “What do you have in mind?” he finally asks.
“Those questions have clearly been written by adults. How about we rewrite them and we have a real interview?”
He hesitates for a second, and I think that it is once more because of the credits, so it takes me completely off-guard when he asks: “And you would trust me with that?”
“With what? The assignment?”
“No. Asking unscripted personal questions.”
“Oh. Yes, I think I would.”
He seems equally surprised and proud and it surprises me that he would feel that way about me. Maybe I know him even less than I thought.
“Okay then. I… Is it cool if we do this on Thursday, then? I want some time to think about the questions.”
“Sure. You need the credits and I’m the one pulling you into something different, so… I’ll follow your lead from now on.”
“I’m not sure it’s such a great idea. Have you seen my grades?”
“It will be fine. And I’ll read your essay when you’re done if you want and go over it.”
“Thanks. So… I guess that means I’ve just wasted your time asking you to come here, huh?”
“I’m the one who changed our plans. It’s just… I don’t think any of us would grow as people by answering 'cite three times you felt like an outsider' or 'do you think bullying is ever justified'."
"Those questions are really uninspired, aren't they? So… Do you want to get home now or do you want to stay a while?"
Of course, I want to stay. Even if I am slightly afraid to find out that we don't get on when it's just the two of us. "I have time," I simply reply, trying to find the right balance between cold and eager. "What do you have in mind?"
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Just hanging out.”
ㅤ
It had been a while since I had just ‘hanged out’ with someone I don’t really know. I think I reached a point where I see everyone as hostile. But that afternoon with Caleb, crush aside, reminded me that it’s okay to open up to people a little bit, to let go of the sarcasm, and just have fun. We talked about everything and I like his view on things because it was so different from mine and it challenged me in the best of ways.
I could see why Adam would pick him as his best friend – although I’m not sure why Caleb would pick him back. He is usually pretty shy and subdued when I’m around but I got to discover him a bit today and there is a light and warmth about him that I don’t really want to let go of.
I don’t think that’s a good thing. As much as I try to remind myself that he is most likely straight, that he is my brother’s best friend, that he is an out-of-my-league athlete… I think my crush is still growing into something stronger.
Hopefully, this assignment will show me that he is very stupid, or very intolerant, and that will make the feelings go away. Somehow, I doubt that will happen…
ㅤ
“Can you drop me at Caleb’s today?” I ask Adam as I get in his car.
“No. I was planning to make Cal jump while I was still driving to make sure you didn’t have time to get out of the car.”
“You’re hilarious,” I reply sternly.
“I know. If only that were a family trait…”
“Who are you doing your essay with?” Caleb asks him to change the subject.
“Nobody. I don’t have time for their shit, so I wrote two hundred words on how my parents are homophobes, and having to deal with them every day is the best proof of tolerance I will ever have to display.”
“You do realize that it’s not the point they wanted you to make with the assignment, right?” I ask him.
“Yes, well. Maybe if we stopped having the narrative that being around LGBT people is being tolerant and that being with intolerant people is normal, then we’d have more happy people and less bullies.”
“Fewer,” I say almost against my will because I don’t know how to cope with the serious tone that the conversation just took. I am so grateful for Adam and the way he has supported me ever since I came out, but… I just find it hard to express out loud. We just don’t do that.
“What?”
“Fewer. ‘Bullies’ is a countable noun so you should use many and fewer, not much and less.”
“You do know that this is the reason why you don’t have a boyfriend, right?”
It somehow feels like a conversation we already had before.
ㅤ
Caleb lets me take the comfy seat in his room again but, this time, he sits on the desk and I kind of love this little quirk of his.
“Okay… I have prepped questions but you don’t have to answer them if they are too personal or if they are stupid.”
“I’m sure they won’t be stupid. How many questions do you have?”
“Ten.”
“Ten?”
“We don’t have to do all of them, it’s just—”
“No, that’s fine. Come on. Question number one.”
“Was it hard to come out to your family? I know your personal circumstances so let’s not do this interview like anyone else asked, I was just wondering… obviously, we know it didn’t turn out great, but is it something you had predicted when you decided to come out?”
“No, not really. I knew it would be hard. I had a feeling that my parents, especially my mom, weren’t particularly woke, but I had this silly notion that if I came out it would make them understand something and they would change for me. That clearly didn’t happen.”
“Does that make you feel out of place?”
“Isn’t that the sign of a good journalist?” I tell him with a wink. “You predicted my answer and how to bounce back from it.” I think I’m stalling a little. I don’t really want to answer that question and I don’t think I would have even with Maisie. And yet, somehow, I want to answer him. “It does make me feel out of place. I think it’s one of the hardest things. I can handle the bullies, I can handle facing a life of discrimination, but I can’t handle the way my mother looks at me sometimes. Like I failed her. Worse than this, even. It’s a mix of disappointment and disgust.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he says softly.
I shrug. “It’s how it feels like on this end.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Next question, then. In comparison, how was it to come out at school?”
“It was… liberating, in a way. It was a massive F off to all those negative thoughts that made me believe I would never be able to do it. But it was also very disappointing. My life didn’t change after that. I was still angry, I was still in Adam’s shadow, I was still the awkward nerd… But then the people I told started telling people and I started standing out for the wrong reasons. Suddenly, being wasn’t a part of me anymore, it was all I was in the eyes of people. And that didn’t feel particularly more comfortable than the closet.”
“Was there a lot of bullying?”
“There was. There is. It’s… not that bad, in a way. I know that because I am Adam’s brother, people leave me alone more than they have for other people and I haven’t been fully bullied. But it’s little things, relentlessly. Every single day, there is someone telling me something. Not just insults, sometimes it’s unsolicited advice or even support, but… why can’t people get that I don’t need them to comment on my life? That coming up to me to tell me that I am ‘really brave’ actually doesn’t help? If being gay was perceived as fine and normal, then they wouldn’t feel the need to tell me that I’m brave. They single me out every single time they do that. Even when they mean well.”
“How bad did it get? Sorry, you’ve sort of answered that. We can skip it if you—”
“Taylor Johnson kissed me on the lips one morning and asked me if it was getting me hard.” I don’t know why I told him that. I didn’t even tell Maisie.
“He did what? Have you told Adam?”
“No. I really don’t want to be the guy who hides behind his brother for everything. I also felt weird after. Dirty and ashamed.”
“That’s a form of sexual harassment,” Caleb says softly. “You should report him.”
“I don’t think I want to make a big deal out of it. I want to leave it in the past and bury it. Is it because I’m a coward?”
“No. You deal with it the way feels right to you. But if it’s because you’re afraid of him—”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Let’s move on, then. Did you feel more included in the school community when they decided to fly the gay flag?”
“No. Actually, I think it was a bit out of place and I would have preferred if they hadn’t done it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… No matter what you say, flying that flag was a political statement and I don’t need my school to do that. Instead of doing something that would make pretty pictures on Twitter and possibly upset a few parents and add fuel to things unnecessarily, it would have been better if they had put their energy into doing actual things in school to make our everyday life easier. What do I care about the flag in front of the building if I am still feeling unsafe inside?”
“Do you? Feel unsafe, I mean.”
“No, not really. But it’s better for the image I’m going for,” I reply with a smile.
He makes a ‘fair enough’ face and looks back at his notes. “That actually links back nicely to my next question. What do you think the school should have done better?”
I sigh and take a second to think about this one. “So much, actually. Better sex ed for LGBT students, more severe consequences for bullying incidents, a mentoring system for struggling students… And it shouldn’t just be about gay students, actually, the school should stop singling us out, it should be for every struggling student, no matter where it is coming from… there are probably so many other things they could do, if only one of the people paid to think about them actually cared.”
“We’re going to move on because this question is bringing out your angry side.” Funnily enough, him pointing this out is enough to deflate all my frustration. “Knowing how it turned out, would you take ut back if you could?”
“My coming-out?” He nods. “That is a tough question but… no. I don’t think I would. Home is weird but Adam and Sam have been so supportive. School is sometimes hard but Maisie has been great. They make the negative sides seem so small sometimes because there are people I can just be my real self with. I think being open and honest helps. I know I am very moody and Maisie always jokes about me being angry at the world but I think I am actually able to let all those feelings out for the first time and eventually, I’ll settle on something less negative.”
“You seem to have spent a long time thinking about all that. I don’t know if I am that self-aware.”
I shrug. “When you think you might be different, you tend to think about it a lot.” He stays silent after that, looking at his piece of paper and I am reminded that everyone feels like they don’t belong at some point or other, even kind, hot, successful swimmers. I hope I didn’t just trigger something. “Question number eight?” I prompt.
“It’s the ninth, actually,” he corrects me with a soft smile. “Is there anything you’d like students to know or to be educated about?”
“Nothing they’d be willing to hear,” I reply. I know I haven’t really answered his question and maybe it’s not fair on him, but… I don’t think I have it in me to educate others. Not the skills, not the patience, not the will… His question wasn’t bad, I am just the wrong person to ask something like that. I am almost ashamed of it.
He doesn’t push and I am not sure if this is because he understands or because Caleb never pushes people out of their comfort zones. Actually… I’m sure he would but in another way. Like… I’m sure he could get me to go camping or something. But he won’t force me to try to find fake soothing words I want to say to high school bullies.
“Alright. Last question, then. But I think asking you that will be depressing. Do you think schools will be more tolerant places in the future?”
I can’t help but chuckle. He might have a point. “Yes and no. If we look back… things are better now than they were on so many things and I genuinely think that they are going to get better. But on the other hand… no matter how far you look, we have that ‘It gets better’ line that seems timeless. So… Do I think that we’ll eventually live in a rosy world where everyone is kind and happy? No. Do I think it’s going to be better for LGBT students? Yeah, I actually do.”
“But?”
“How do you know there is a ‘but’?”
“I might know you better than you think.”
That flusters me for a second. Then I realize that it doesn’t mean anything, we carshare twice a day. “I’m just wondering who’s going to be the next minority.”
“You know, I’m sure that deep down, you’re less cynical than you think.”
I really want to believe him. Actually, I think he is right. I’m not this angry, I’m not this blasé, I’m not this sad, I just feel more and more stuck in this persona. I genuinely thought that coming out would deliver me of those feelings. And it did for a little bit. Until Jake decided that he didn’t want to try us anymore. Until my mother decided that she wasn’t as accepting as she thought. Until people at school decided to make this one part of me my entire identity.
Surprisingly, I tell Caleb all of that – apart from Jake’s name, of course.
“Can I ask you another question?” he asks me. “Completely off the record.”
“Sure.” I don’t know what he is about to ask but I already know I’m going to reply.
“When you look at all the couples in high school, given what happened between you and the mystery guy, thinking about the statistics… Do you think you’ll date in high school? I’m just asking because I read somewhere that most gay people get their first relationship in college.”
“And you got worried for me?” I tease him.
“Something like that.”
“I don’t know if that’s true or not. I think with more people being out now than even just ten years ago, the dating pool is bigger. But it’s true that it’s smaller and I don’t want to start dating someone just because we’re both gay.” Is that the only thing Jake and I had in common? No, it was more than that. Even now, we still talk even if it’s more awkward than it used to be. And since then… I look at Caleb. I really hoped that this time together would make me realize that he isn’t for me and that I only had a crush on him because he's hot, but… “I think the problem I have with dating is that I keep falling for boys unavailable or out of my league.”
“Don’t we all have that problem?” he graciously replies.
“You fell for a boy out your league?” I tease him with a wink. That doesn’t make him laugh and I feel like I might have triggered something again.
Before I can apologize for it, there is a knock on the door and his mother walks in. I have seen her once or twice but I have never properly met her.
“Oh, hello,” she says with a warm smile.
“Liam, this is my mom, Mom, this is Liam, Adam’s brother. He’s helping me with some homework.”
“And did you invite your friend to dinner to thank him for helping you?”
“No, I didn’t do that.”
“A-ha. Well, Liam, please believe that I have actually raised my son right. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“I wouldn’t like to impose.”
“No such thing.”
“Then I would love to. I just need to check with my parents.”
“Of course. Okay, I’ll let you boys get back to it.”
ㅤ
I actually don’t call my parents. I phone Adam. I know I keep putting him in this awkward place where he has to be the one keeping the family together, but I genuinely don’t know how to function without him anymore. Even if it’s unfair.
Actually… maybe Sam is the one holding the family together. I don’t know.
“I thought I was supposed to pick you up in half an hour,” Adam says as soon as he picks up. He’s at Clara’s and they have a tendency to lose track of time. Probably because they are playing Monopoly and reading poetry because anything would be gross and TMI.
“You’re not late,” I reply. “Actually, Caleb’s mother invited me for dinner and I was hoping you could get mom on board.”
“Excuse me, first you’re stealing my best friend, then his mom’s cooking…”
“Yes and I’m also sitting in your chair right now.”
“See, that’s the worst kind of brotherly betrayal… But because I am the bigger man, I’ll call mom to tell her. She’ll probably let me stay at Clara’s for dinner too and I’ll pick you after. I’ll text you with parental decision and details.”
This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel nervous about asking my mom if I can have dinner at another boy’s house. Especially when nothing is going on. But here we are and I am so grateful for Adam.
ㅤ
“Is it okay if I draft the essay now and you have a look later?” Caleb asks me when I finish texting Adam about picking me up after dinner. He came through, as always.
“Sure.”
“We don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like I’m inviting you and then ignoring you.”
“Technically, your mom invited me,” I tease him with a smile.
He rolls his eyes at me but he is smiling too. He opens his desk drawer – which looks more adventurous than it should given that he is still sitting on said desk – and gets a book out that he hands me. I take it, probably looking a little confused.
“What? Didn’t you say you could picture yourself sitting there and reading? And that should keep you busy while I finish my draft.”
I don’t know why but this small attention actually makes me feel warm. I take the book and ask “What is it about?”
“If you actually open it and read the words, you will find out,” he replies and I didn’t know this sassy side of him but I am low-key loving it. I don’t even glance at the back cover and start reading.
ㅤ
I am completely lost in the book – and the comfiness of that incredible armchair – when his mother comes back. “Hey boys. Having fun?”
“I’m doing homework,” Caleb replies.
I chuckle. “I’m actually enjoying myself,” I reply.
“Great. Caleb, since you’re not living your best life, how about you come and help me set the table? Dinner is almost ready.”
“Oh, no,” I say. “He’s working and I’m doing nothing, I can help.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replies. “You’re the guest.”
“I want to,” I insist.
She smiles and says: “You do sound like your brother. That is really kind of you.”
ㅤ
We end up chatting as we set the table together. “So, Liam. I can’t believe we haven’t properly met before. I have heard so much about you!”
“You have?”
“Yes. From the boys. Anyway. What school project are you working on with Caleb?”
“It is this tolerance thing that our school is doing to try to tackle bullying and you get extra credits if you pair up with a minority, so…”
She seems a very odd mix of relieved and happy. “Oh, so Caleb finally decided to come out? That’s—” She stops herself when she sees my surprised face.
“Hum… I…” I don’t know how to bounce back from this. She looks mortified, clearly aware that she stepped into something she wasn’t supposed to, and I really want her to know that I won’t say anything. Not to Caleb, not to Adam, not to anyone. More importantly… Does she think Caleb is gay or does she know it? Is that why he asked all these questions that had more to do with coming out than tolerance?
“Please don’t tell him anything. He hasn’t even told me yet. Not openly anyway. It’s more that he’s been hinting things, and that I think I have always known, and—”
“I won’t. I wouldn’t.”
“So… then I guess you are the minority in this project?”
“I am. I’m gay and I came out earlier this year.”
“How did that go?”
I shrug. “Weird. School is okay. Some people have been jerks but it’s not like people were really nice before. I am the nerdy little brother of the swimming star, so…”
“I know it is terribly easy to say, but don’t listen to them. They are just background noise even when they sound really loud. Do not let other people dictate who you are.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I am. I don’t know. It’s confusing sometimes.”
“That’s just being a teenager. And I am not saying that it isn’t harder for you, I am just saying that this is a confusing time regardless.”
“Thank you for listening to me,” I say. I don’t know why the words made it out, it just seemed important that she knows she is actually being helpful.
“Not a problem. I am practicing for whenever Caleb is ready to have this conversation without hiding behind metaphors. Actually… what is the most helpful thing your mother told you?”
“Hum… My mom isn’t really on board with the entire thing. I—” I hear Caleb get out of his room and I know this conversation is over. I am surprised to realize that I am actually disappointed about that.
She still leans forward a quickly presses my shoulder and saying: “She might be struggling with the situation, but not with you.” And that, right there, could make me cry.
ㅤ
I really enjoy this dinner. Not just the food – although Caleb’s mom is a really great cook – but also the conversation. It’s like get to discover another Caleb. Or, rather, it is like I can finally see the boy I thought he was behind his ‘brother’s best friend’ label. I want to spend more time with that guy.
But it is also a little confusing. Because now when I look at him, I can’t help but wonder if his mother is right. Is Caleb gay and about to come out? And if so… would I have a shot? What am I thinking about? Of course, not. Being gay wouldn’t magically put him in my league. And it probably would be all kinds of awkward because of Adam. I need to get my shit together.
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As his mother is getting dessert, he leans closer, close enough that I can smell him, and says with a soft amused smile: “You’ve laughed. Six times.”
“I… what?”
“Maybe you are slightly less grumpy than you’d like the world to think.” He seems genuinely pleased about that. Then he winks at me and sits back up.
My stupid heart might have skipped a beat or two.
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Caleb is helping his mother cleaning out in the kitchen and I decided to have a look at Caleb’s draft. I don’t really care about the grade we are going to get – although I do want it to get him the credits he needs – but I am curious to see what he came up with with my lame answers. Maybe we should start again one day when I am in a better mindset. Actually, right now, I already feel more optimistic than I did when we started. I don’t know if it’s the small conversation with his mother or just being around Caleb.
It’s weird… just one afternoon and things are already feeling different. Like… I had my crush under control before and now it’s not that simple. I am also a bit bitter that the next time I will see him, it won’t be just him and me and I will fade in the back of his duo with Adam, as always.
Okay. I clearly need something to take my mind off it. Let’s have a look at that essay.
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The draft is a little rough and it deserves a proper rewrite. But… I hardly see its flaws. I am too busy feeling completely overwhelmed by the words I am reading. Caleb has written two things: a passionate defense of difference in all its forms, and what would pretty much be read like a love letter to me. Not in those exact words, of course, but… I have never felt so seen, understood, valued, and respected than by reading Caleb’s words right now.
I… Have I read the whole situation all wrong? Is it possible that to him I wasn’t just Adam’s invisible little brother?
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I step out of his bedroom and decide to join them. I just felt awkward being alone in Caleb’s bedroom, reading his essay for the third time.
I however make things even more awkward.
Caleb and his mother are doing the dishes and I guess they didn’t hear me coming. I am about to announce myself but my name is dropped in the conversation. Not that I am trying to eavesdrop, I just freeze.
“So… Liam. He is nice,” she says, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.
“He is.”
“Have you two been friends for a long time?”
“He is Adam’s brother, Mom, I have known him as long as I’ve known Adam.”
“That’s not my question.”
“I don’t really know if we’re friends,” Caleb replies and he sounds a little sad about that.
“Are you… maybe more than friends?” she prompts him and he stiffens slightly. That is definitely my cue to make my presence nod. I can’t be a silent witness as she tries to get his son to come out to her.
I knock on the door exactly as Caleb says: “No, I just wish.”
The situation hits the three of us at the same time. Caleb’s mother seems mortified to have done the same thing to her son twice in the same evening, Caleb looks so embarrassed that he would melt into a puddle if he could, and I am standing there like an idiot, my mouth open, unable to do anything but hear his last sentence spiral in my head like a mini-tornado.
Caleb’s mother checks with him silently, he nods, and she leaves, saying that she will be in her office if we need anything.
As soon as we hear her shut her door, Caleb blurts out: “Liam, about what you ju—”
“I read your essay,” I interrupt him.
“Oh.”
He looks even more embarrassed and that is the last thing I want. I slowly walk up to him, pushed by some courage that I didn’t know I had. I stop when I am right in front of him, and look into his eyes. In there, I see nothing but hope. So I take a leap of faith.
His hand cups my neck the moment my lips touch his, and before I can fully realize what I just did, he is kissing me back.
I pull back and I can tell he is just as overwhelmed by today’s development as I am. I think we both need a minute to take it in. “Hey, how about I help you finish that?” I say, pointing at the dishes. He nods and we keep cleaning and drying together. Our arms keep brushing and, for now, it feels like more than enough. It feels like everything.
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We get back to his room and I swear that my intention was to talk about it but… within thirty seconds of him closing the door, our lips are already locked and Caleb is pulling us toward the armchair.
I remember what he said earlier and I do want to spend more time in this chair, reading, are just talking to him. But this, right now, straddling and kissing him, I definitely want to do more of that on this chair…
His body feels strong under mine and I take a second to relish the fact that I just scored a hot member of the swim team. But then the realization that I scored the nice, shy, cute, kind, fun boy and I almost can’t believe it.
I stop kissing just so I can look at him – really look at him. I suppose I have never openly stared at him before and I am so glad that I am allowed to. He is so handsome. Especially when he smiles like that. It looks like he is patiently waiting for me to be done and I have a feeling that he might have stared at me more than I did him and he is giving me the time to learn him as well as he knows me. It might take me more than a few minutes.
“Caleb, what is this?” I ask because there is still a chance that he is just experimenting and that all the feelings are only in my head.
“Hopefully our new normal,” he replies softly, and my entire skin covers in goosebumps.
“I would love that,” I reply with the same tone. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I look at it quickly. “It’s Adam. He’s five minutes away.”
“Okay. We could finish the essay tomorrow.”
“Sure. We could go to the library at lunch or after school.”
He looks at me like I’m being very dense. “Or you could come here and we could spend ten minutes on the essay and an hour trying out the new normal.”
Oh. “Yeah,” I reply, feeling a goofy smile settling on my face. “I would like that very much. And maybe… we could talk?”
“Yeah, we probably should,” he agrees. We need to know what we both want out of this, if we want to tell people and who, what that would mean for his relationship with Adam and probably the rest of the swim team…
“But maybe not just talk…” I temper because… come on.
He chuckles. “Maybe not.” His hand gently cups the back of my head and he pulls me in for another kiss. Then he pulls back and asks, more teasing than serious: “If I do come out… do you think I’ll get extra credits?”
I can’t help but snort. Classy. “Everyone needs a reason to come out, I guess.”
He is absolutely not joking anymore when he looks at me with his big soft eyes and says: “True. And I think I found mine.”
My heart might have skipped yet another beat. I am not mad at it this time.