Autoboyography
Page 27
Super creative, Eric.
“You should ask Sasha. We could go as a group.”
My breath seems to be lodged in my windpipe, and I take her hand. “I can’t, Auddy.”
She tries to hide the way her face falls. This is all good and terrible.
I mean, it’s not like Sebastian would go with me, not in a million years. But my heart belongs to him right now, and until he decides what he wants to do with it, I can’t take it back.
Autumn watches me, and we breathe in and out in this weird unison for a few quiet seconds.
I pull out of her grip and take another carrot, this time without any guilt. “Thanks.”
She stands, leaving her lunch for me to finish and kissing the top of my head. “I’ve got to meet Mrs. Polo before sixth. Text me later?”
With a nod, I watch her disappear into the building before I grab my phone from where it lies beside me. Typing out a few efforts at fixing this, I settle on
How was your weekend?
He begins typing immediately. Blood rushes too fast in my veins.
The dots are there for a while, and then they disappear, and I’m expecting some dissertation on soccer and moving houses from Provo to Orem, but all I get, after about five minutes, is
Good!
Is he kidding me?
I stare at my phone. My heart isn’t just in my windpipe now. It seems to be beating in every organ, every empty space in my body. If I closed my eyes, I could hear it. I don’t even know what to say. So, I just send a thumbs-up and put my phone away.
Four more carrots later, I check.
Sebastian replied with a mountain emoji and, a few minutes later, something else.
My grandparents are coming down from Salt Lake this weekend. Mom told me to invite you to dinner. I’m sure it sounds terrifying to you, but I promise they’re nice.
And I’d like to have you there.
CHAPTER TEN
I assume there is some secret code buried in Sebastian’s invitation to dinner. Maybe this is his way of reminding me that we have to be careful. Maybe this is the only way he can express his anxiety about my book and its potential to out him. Because, seriously, nothing gave me as clear-cut a picture about how different our home lives are than going to his house did; even he witnessed my fascination.
But then there’s the matter of what we did on the mountain. We kissed, and it wasn’t a simple kiss or accidental peck, but a kiss, with tongue and hands and lips and intent. I can’t even think about it without feeling like I’ve been submerged in warm water. He could barely look at me without blushing as we walked on the trail. Is this dinner plan complete insanity?
What is he doing?
I scrutinize my reflection in the mirror across the room. My clothes are new, so they fit at least—I grew so fast for a few years that my sleeves were always a touch too short, my pants hovering just above my ankles. I’ve changed my shirt seven times, and with my haircut, I think I look pretty good. I’m worried I’m too casual in a short-sleeved Quiksilver button-down. Still, to dress up in a shirt and tie would feel sort of presumptuous, like this is a date or meeting the parents.
Which it isn’t. At least, I don’t think . . .
“So, are you two like . . . together?”
Hailey leans against my doorway, arms folded over her chest as she judges me from across the room.
I look down at my shirt again. “Who the hell knows.”
She clucks her tongue at me, pushing away from the door to flop gracelessly on my bed. “They won’t like that kind of language.”
I swear under my breath because, dammit, she’s right. I have to be better about that.
“You don’t know if you’re together, but you’re having dinner with his family? That’s weird.”
“How did you know about it?”
“If it was supposed to be a secret, you might want to rethink talking about it with Mom and Dad in the middle of the house.”
“It’s not really a secret, but . . .”
But it is.
Hailey nods. Apparently she doesn’t need me to explain, and it’s nice to see a flash of her not being a self-absorbed brat. When we decided to move here, my parents sat her down and made it very clear that her discretion is everything. Even I could see Mom’s panic as she tried to explain to Hailey that outing me in a fit of rage somewhere would be disastrous. The rest of the world wouldn’t always be as understanding as we were raised to be, especially here in Provo.
Bending to pick up the rest of my clothes, I remember that Hailey and Lizzy are in the same grade. “I’ll get to hang out with Lizzy tonight. I’ll tell her you said hi.”
Hailey wrinkles her nose.
I laugh, putting T-shirts back in drawers and hanging up the rest. “You’d be surprised to hear that they’re all like that.”
Hailey rolls onto her back and groans. “She’s always smiling and saying hi to everyone in the halls.”
“What a monster.”
“How can someone be that happy being Mormon?” In her words, for the first time, I hear our blind bias. “I’d want to punch myself.”
I haven’t spent any time with Lizzy, but I feel a prickle of protectiveness toward her anyway. “You sound like an ignorant dumbass.”
Seeing my phone charging on the nightstand, she picks it up and types in my passcode. “Bet she wouldn’t be so happy if she knew you wanted in her brother’s pants.”
“Shut up, Hailey.”
“What? You think they’d still be inviting you to dinner if they knew? To them you’re the devil trying to lure their son to hell.”
“They don’t really believe in hell,” I say, grabbing for my phone. “Don’t say that kind of stuff.”
“Oh, is Sebastian tutoring you in Mormon, too?”
“Actually, Mom told me that. I’m just trying to get to know him better, and that means understanding where he comes from.”
Hailey sees right through my self-righteous act. “Of course, of course, that’s what I mean. Is he sharing the part where they’re on the verge of accepting gay marriage? Or where they’ve admitted what a cruel and horrible mistake conversion therapy was?” she asks, laden with sarcasm. “He’s not going to miraculously realize he likes you more than God or Jesus or Joseph Smith. This is a bad idea.”
Her words poke at some vulnerable thing in my chest. I lash out, grabbing my phone from her hands. “You’re a dick.”
• • •
Sebastian’s house isn’t any less intimidating the second time around. From the outside, you can tell everything you need to know about the family inside: It’s white and tidy, scrupulously maintained but not overdone. It looks welcoming and safe but also like I might mess it up somehow, break something, leave fingerprints somewhere . . . perhaps, for example, on their eldest son.
The Brothers’ Suburban sits inside the open garage, and a newer Lexus is parked farther down. It must belong to the grandparents. I see my reflection in the passenger window as I pass, and the tension in my nerves doubles. How will I make it through dinner with the most clean-cut family in Provo without outing myself as the lovesick boy I am?
Maybe Hailey was right: This is a really bad idea.
I brace myself before pressing the doorbell. It echoes through the house before Sebastian’s voice rises from inside: “I got it!”
Thrill kick-starts in my chest.
The door swings open, and the sight of him sucks up every bit of oxygen on the porch. I haven’t seen him since class, when things were weird and silent. He wouldn’t look at me then, but he’s definitely looking at me now. Any neuron in my brain that worried whether I should be here melts into gray matter goo.
“You should ask Sasha. We could go as a group.”
My breath seems to be lodged in my windpipe, and I take her hand. “I can’t, Auddy.”
She tries to hide the way her face falls. This is all good and terrible.
I mean, it’s not like Sebastian would go with me, not in a million years. But my heart belongs to him right now, and until he decides what he wants to do with it, I can’t take it back.
Autumn watches me, and we breathe in and out in this weird unison for a few quiet seconds.
I pull out of her grip and take another carrot, this time without any guilt. “Thanks.”
She stands, leaving her lunch for me to finish and kissing the top of my head. “I’ve got to meet Mrs. Polo before sixth. Text me later?”
With a nod, I watch her disappear into the building before I grab my phone from where it lies beside me. Typing out a few efforts at fixing this, I settle on
How was your weekend?
He begins typing immediately. Blood rushes too fast in my veins.
The dots are there for a while, and then they disappear, and I’m expecting some dissertation on soccer and moving houses from Provo to Orem, but all I get, after about five minutes, is
Good!
Is he kidding me?
I stare at my phone. My heart isn’t just in my windpipe now. It seems to be beating in every organ, every empty space in my body. If I closed my eyes, I could hear it. I don’t even know what to say. So, I just send a thumbs-up and put my phone away.
Four more carrots later, I check.
Sebastian replied with a mountain emoji and, a few minutes later, something else.
My grandparents are coming down from Salt Lake this weekend. Mom told me to invite you to dinner. I’m sure it sounds terrifying to you, but I promise they’re nice.
And I’d like to have you there.
CHAPTER TEN
I assume there is some secret code buried in Sebastian’s invitation to dinner. Maybe this is his way of reminding me that we have to be careful. Maybe this is the only way he can express his anxiety about my book and its potential to out him. Because, seriously, nothing gave me as clear-cut a picture about how different our home lives are than going to his house did; even he witnessed my fascination.
But then there’s the matter of what we did on the mountain. We kissed, and it wasn’t a simple kiss or accidental peck, but a kiss, with tongue and hands and lips and intent. I can’t even think about it without feeling like I’ve been submerged in warm water. He could barely look at me without blushing as we walked on the trail. Is this dinner plan complete insanity?
What is he doing?
I scrutinize my reflection in the mirror across the room. My clothes are new, so they fit at least—I grew so fast for a few years that my sleeves were always a touch too short, my pants hovering just above my ankles. I’ve changed my shirt seven times, and with my haircut, I think I look pretty good. I’m worried I’m too casual in a short-sleeved Quiksilver button-down. Still, to dress up in a shirt and tie would feel sort of presumptuous, like this is a date or meeting the parents.
Which it isn’t. At least, I don’t think . . .
“So, are you two like . . . together?”
Hailey leans against my doorway, arms folded over her chest as she judges me from across the room.
I look down at my shirt again. “Who the hell knows.”
She clucks her tongue at me, pushing away from the door to flop gracelessly on my bed. “They won’t like that kind of language.”
I swear under my breath because, dammit, she’s right. I have to be better about that.
“You don’t know if you’re together, but you’re having dinner with his family? That’s weird.”
“How did you know about it?”
“If it was supposed to be a secret, you might want to rethink talking about it with Mom and Dad in the middle of the house.”
“It’s not really a secret, but . . .”
But it is.
Hailey nods. Apparently she doesn’t need me to explain, and it’s nice to see a flash of her not being a self-absorbed brat. When we decided to move here, my parents sat her down and made it very clear that her discretion is everything. Even I could see Mom’s panic as she tried to explain to Hailey that outing me in a fit of rage somewhere would be disastrous. The rest of the world wouldn’t always be as understanding as we were raised to be, especially here in Provo.
Bending to pick up the rest of my clothes, I remember that Hailey and Lizzy are in the same grade. “I’ll get to hang out with Lizzy tonight. I’ll tell her you said hi.”
Hailey wrinkles her nose.
I laugh, putting T-shirts back in drawers and hanging up the rest. “You’d be surprised to hear that they’re all like that.”
Hailey rolls onto her back and groans. “She’s always smiling and saying hi to everyone in the halls.”
“What a monster.”
“How can someone be that happy being Mormon?” In her words, for the first time, I hear our blind bias. “I’d want to punch myself.”
I haven’t spent any time with Lizzy, but I feel a prickle of protectiveness toward her anyway. “You sound like an ignorant dumbass.”
Seeing my phone charging on the nightstand, she picks it up and types in my passcode. “Bet she wouldn’t be so happy if she knew you wanted in her brother’s pants.”
“Shut up, Hailey.”
“What? You think they’d still be inviting you to dinner if they knew? To them you’re the devil trying to lure their son to hell.”
“They don’t really believe in hell,” I say, grabbing for my phone. “Don’t say that kind of stuff.”
“Oh, is Sebastian tutoring you in Mormon, too?”
“Actually, Mom told me that. I’m just trying to get to know him better, and that means understanding where he comes from.”
Hailey sees right through my self-righteous act. “Of course, of course, that’s what I mean. Is he sharing the part where they’re on the verge of accepting gay marriage? Or where they’ve admitted what a cruel and horrible mistake conversion therapy was?” she asks, laden with sarcasm. “He’s not going to miraculously realize he likes you more than God or Jesus or Joseph Smith. This is a bad idea.”
Her words poke at some vulnerable thing in my chest. I lash out, grabbing my phone from her hands. “You’re a dick.”
• • •
Sebastian’s house isn’t any less intimidating the second time around. From the outside, you can tell everything you need to know about the family inside: It’s white and tidy, scrupulously maintained but not overdone. It looks welcoming and safe but also like I might mess it up somehow, break something, leave fingerprints somewhere . . . perhaps, for example, on their eldest son.
The Brothers’ Suburban sits inside the open garage, and a newer Lexus is parked farther down. It must belong to the grandparents. I see my reflection in the passenger window as I pass, and the tension in my nerves doubles. How will I make it through dinner with the most clean-cut family in Provo without outing myself as the lovesick boy I am?
Maybe Hailey was right: This is a really bad idea.
I brace myself before pressing the doorbell. It echoes through the house before Sebastian’s voice rises from inside: “I got it!”
Thrill kick-starts in my chest.
The door swings open, and the sight of him sucks up every bit of oxygen on the porch. I haven’t seen him since class, when things were weird and silent. He wouldn’t look at me then, but he’s definitely looking at me now. Any neuron in my brain that worried whether I should be here melts into gray matter goo.
