More Than Him
Page 38
Ethan and I stopped laughing immediately. Shit just got real. "What?" we both asked.
His laugh became silent when he saw how serious we were. We blamed each other about that missing cookie for a good five months, and froze each other out completely. Meals with two non-speaking twelve year olds were not good times. "You ate it?" Ethan deadpanned.
Tristan swallowed loudly, looking from Ethan to me and back again. He nodded once, his eyes wide. "Yes."
"Swear it?" Ethan asked him.
He nodded.
"Spit-swear it?" I said.
"What?" He scrunched his nose.
Then in unison, Ethan and I spat on our hands and offered it to him. "Do it," we both insisted.
Tristan's face contorted to a look of disgust. "No. Fucking. Way."
Ethan's eyes met mine. "Game on," I announced, lifting my chin.
Then, simultaneously, Ethan and I wiped our hands across his cheeks. He squealed. Not a manly one, either. Ethan's head threw back with the guffaw that took over him. "You sound gay," he yelled.
Tristan wiped his cheeks with his sleeves. "I'm am gay, asshole."
***
"Soooo," Tristan mocked in a high-pitched girl voice. "Who's the boy?"
He'd walked in just as I opened the bathroom door after I'd finished showering and frantically scrubbing my face of Ethan's spit. His question made me stop in my tracks. For a moment, I wanted to tell him all about Logan. Instead, I lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit," he said calmly, taking a seat on my bed. "I know you too well, Dim. Who is he?" He smiled eagerly, waiting for my response.
I couldn't lie. I'd been doing it too much already. Slowly shutting my door, I faced him. "You can't say anything to anyone, Tris. Swear it."
He laughed. "As fun as it was to pretend we were kids just then, we're not, we're grown-ass people. I don't need to swear on anything. You know you can trust me."
"Fine." I paused, thinking of my next words. I felt the corners of my lips turn up, and before I knew it, I was grinning.
Tristan sighed. "How long's he been back?"
My eyes went wide. "What? How do you know?"
"I'm not an idiot. You shutting the door, keeping secrets, that goofy look on your damn face." He blew out a breath. "I take it Ethan doesn't know?"
I shook my head slowly. The guilt slowly developed into a knot in the pit of my stomach.
He made a frustrated noise as he rubbed his face with his hands. "This is not going to end well, Dim. Especially with you keeping it from him."
"I know," I said quickly. I sat on the bed next to him and did my best to persuade otherwise. "It's complicated, Tristan. We know we have stuff to overcome, and issues to deal with, but we just want some time. We just want to be together without the world judging us. We just want to be happy, even if it's for a little while." I felt the sob rising up my throat and swallowed it down. I hated this. I hated thinking about what might happen. Not even about when we went public, just Ethan's reaction. He was the only one who mattered to me. "I know it's hard to understand—"
"Wait," he cut in. "You do realize I'm gay, right?" He laughed once. "If anyone knows what it's like to be afraid of judgment, it's me."
"Valid," I agreed.
"Dim, there's a reason I came out to you first."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"Because. You don't judge, you don't ask questions, you just accept things for what they are. You accept people for who they are, regardless of who they love. You understand that you can't help who you fall in love with.
"I think, deep down, Ethan's the same. But it goes both ways, Dim. You can't help being in love with Logan, just as much as Ethan can't help loving you. And either way you look at it, you and Ethan—you're both trying to protect the people you love."
Logan
A stupid grin took over my face. I couldn't stop it, even if you paid me. Placing the phone to my ear, I said, "Hey, pretty girl." I'd been on the roof for twenty minutes, contemplating whether or not I should call her. I knew she said we should spend some time apart. I didn't get it. That's not what I wanted at all. She thought I was going to get sick of her. As if that was possible. Luckily, I didn't have to call—seemed like she was the first to break.
"Hey yourself," she replied. "I'm sorry for calling."
"You never have to apologize for that."
She sighed. "What are you doing?"
"Honestly?"
"No, lie to me."
I chuckled under my breath. "I'm sitting on the roof thinking about how much I miss you."
"It's only been a few hours." She sounded sad.
I tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, you called me, remember?"
"Yeah," she said softly. Something was wrong.
"What's going on, Amanda?"
She sighed again. "I don't know. What are we doing?"
My heart started to pick up pace. "What do you mean?"
Another fucking sigh. "I mean—what are we doing? You and me. Us. Together?"
My heart sank. I wanted to slap myself for believing that things could be so simple with us. I sat down, my knees too weak to hold myself up. My head lowered. It was my turn to sigh. "Baby, I don't know what you're saying, but if you don't want to be with me, just say so."
It was quiet for so long I thought for sure she'd hung up, but then I heard her intake of breath. "I don't think it's a good idea that we keep sneaking around. I just have a feeling it's going to blow up in our faces, you know? I want to be with you, like, all the time, and I feel like there's this knot in my gut whenever we do it—guilt, or something—and I shouldn't feel like that. I shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to be with the person I love."
The tension in my shoulders disappeared. "So you're not breaking up with me?"
"What?" A quiet laugh escaped her. "Not at all." I blew out a breath, relieved. She must have sensed it. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you," she assured.
"It's fine." I wiped my sweaty palms against my shorts. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I think I want to go to Lucy's bonfire thing tomorrow. I mean—Cam's right, it's just going to get worse with time. Band-Aid effect, right? Just rip it right off?"
I heard movement from her end, like she was shifting around in her bed. "That's good. I think that's a good idea."
"Obviously you'd be coming with me." I assumed she would, but I’d never asked. "If you want to, I mean."
I could hear the smile in her answer. "Yeah, that sounds perfect."
"Yeah," I agreed. "So, it normally starts around six-ish. I guess if we take into account the two-hour drive there, that means you should get here . . . say . . . as soon as you wake up in the morning?"
She snorted with laughter. It made me smile into the phone. "What are you doing, pretty girl?"
His laugh became silent when he saw how serious we were. We blamed each other about that missing cookie for a good five months, and froze each other out completely. Meals with two non-speaking twelve year olds were not good times. "You ate it?" Ethan deadpanned.
Tristan swallowed loudly, looking from Ethan to me and back again. He nodded once, his eyes wide. "Yes."
"Swear it?" Ethan asked him.
He nodded.
"Spit-swear it?" I said.
"What?" He scrunched his nose.
Then in unison, Ethan and I spat on our hands and offered it to him. "Do it," we both insisted.
Tristan's face contorted to a look of disgust. "No. Fucking. Way."
Ethan's eyes met mine. "Game on," I announced, lifting my chin.
Then, simultaneously, Ethan and I wiped our hands across his cheeks. He squealed. Not a manly one, either. Ethan's head threw back with the guffaw that took over him. "You sound gay," he yelled.
Tristan wiped his cheeks with his sleeves. "I'm am gay, asshole."
***
"Soooo," Tristan mocked in a high-pitched girl voice. "Who's the boy?"
He'd walked in just as I opened the bathroom door after I'd finished showering and frantically scrubbing my face of Ethan's spit. His question made me stop in my tracks. For a moment, I wanted to tell him all about Logan. Instead, I lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit," he said calmly, taking a seat on my bed. "I know you too well, Dim. Who is he?" He smiled eagerly, waiting for my response.
I couldn't lie. I'd been doing it too much already. Slowly shutting my door, I faced him. "You can't say anything to anyone, Tris. Swear it."
He laughed. "As fun as it was to pretend we were kids just then, we're not, we're grown-ass people. I don't need to swear on anything. You know you can trust me."
"Fine." I paused, thinking of my next words. I felt the corners of my lips turn up, and before I knew it, I was grinning.
Tristan sighed. "How long's he been back?"
My eyes went wide. "What? How do you know?"
"I'm not an idiot. You shutting the door, keeping secrets, that goofy look on your damn face." He blew out a breath. "I take it Ethan doesn't know?"
I shook my head slowly. The guilt slowly developed into a knot in the pit of my stomach.
He made a frustrated noise as he rubbed his face with his hands. "This is not going to end well, Dim. Especially with you keeping it from him."
"I know," I said quickly. I sat on the bed next to him and did my best to persuade otherwise. "It's complicated, Tristan. We know we have stuff to overcome, and issues to deal with, but we just want some time. We just want to be together without the world judging us. We just want to be happy, even if it's for a little while." I felt the sob rising up my throat and swallowed it down. I hated this. I hated thinking about what might happen. Not even about when we went public, just Ethan's reaction. He was the only one who mattered to me. "I know it's hard to understand—"
"Wait," he cut in. "You do realize I'm gay, right?" He laughed once. "If anyone knows what it's like to be afraid of judgment, it's me."
"Valid," I agreed.
"Dim, there's a reason I came out to you first."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"Because. You don't judge, you don't ask questions, you just accept things for what they are. You accept people for who they are, regardless of who they love. You understand that you can't help who you fall in love with.
"I think, deep down, Ethan's the same. But it goes both ways, Dim. You can't help being in love with Logan, just as much as Ethan can't help loving you. And either way you look at it, you and Ethan—you're both trying to protect the people you love."
Logan
A stupid grin took over my face. I couldn't stop it, even if you paid me. Placing the phone to my ear, I said, "Hey, pretty girl." I'd been on the roof for twenty minutes, contemplating whether or not I should call her. I knew she said we should spend some time apart. I didn't get it. That's not what I wanted at all. She thought I was going to get sick of her. As if that was possible. Luckily, I didn't have to call—seemed like she was the first to break.
"Hey yourself," she replied. "I'm sorry for calling."
"You never have to apologize for that."
She sighed. "What are you doing?"
"Honestly?"
"No, lie to me."
I chuckled under my breath. "I'm sitting on the roof thinking about how much I miss you."
"It's only been a few hours." She sounded sad.
I tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, you called me, remember?"
"Yeah," she said softly. Something was wrong.
"What's going on, Amanda?"
She sighed again. "I don't know. What are we doing?"
My heart started to pick up pace. "What do you mean?"
Another fucking sigh. "I mean—what are we doing? You and me. Us. Together?"
My heart sank. I wanted to slap myself for believing that things could be so simple with us. I sat down, my knees too weak to hold myself up. My head lowered. It was my turn to sigh. "Baby, I don't know what you're saying, but if you don't want to be with me, just say so."
It was quiet for so long I thought for sure she'd hung up, but then I heard her intake of breath. "I don't think it's a good idea that we keep sneaking around. I just have a feeling it's going to blow up in our faces, you know? I want to be with you, like, all the time, and I feel like there's this knot in my gut whenever we do it—guilt, or something—and I shouldn't feel like that. I shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to be with the person I love."
The tension in my shoulders disappeared. "So you're not breaking up with me?"
"What?" A quiet laugh escaped her. "Not at all." I blew out a breath, relieved. She must have sensed it. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you," she assured.
"It's fine." I wiped my sweaty palms against my shorts. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I think I want to go to Lucy's bonfire thing tomorrow. I mean—Cam's right, it's just going to get worse with time. Band-Aid effect, right? Just rip it right off?"
I heard movement from her end, like she was shifting around in her bed. "That's good. I think that's a good idea."
"Obviously you'd be coming with me." I assumed she would, but I’d never asked. "If you want to, I mean."
I could hear the smile in her answer. "Yeah, that sounds perfect."
"Yeah," I agreed. "So, it normally starts around six-ish. I guess if we take into account the two-hour drive there, that means you should get here . . . say . . . as soon as you wake up in the morning?"
She snorted with laughter. It made me smile into the phone. "What are you doing, pretty girl?"
