Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lennox

Randy's is crowded. It's just after two in the morning, everyone packing in from the bars, the pink and blue lights even brighter at this time of night. Our table is smashed up against another because most of us from the late-night crowd know each other. Half of our group is still in makeup—bruises, cuts, scratches down Reed's cheek. They cut right over the lift of his cheekbone, nearly to his eye.

I had to lean close to him to apply them, his breath on my lips, his eyes shifting over my face while I worked, moving from my mouth to eyes to ears to chin, then back around again.

It was so hard not to watch him back. One of the scratches across his cheek went slightly crooked, and now, I'll have to replicate that again tomorrow. I snapped a few pictures so I can get it correct.

I step away to take a piss. After flicking off the bathroom sink, I glance at myself in the mirror. I sweep my hair back, frizzy from the humidity. My eyes look tired, the lines around my mouth drawn.

I can't sort out how I feel.

Reed's out there with Indy, sitting at the far end of the table. She'd wanted to go to Randy's afterwards, like we usually do, and talk about her trip.

And here we all are… lying to her. Hiding. Holding back the truth.

Jamie can hardly look at me.

I can hardly look at myself.

I feel sick to my stomach.

I kissed Reed .

I looked right in his eyes, and I knew what was happening. It wasn't like the last time, that instant pull that was half a dream and half reality.

This time I did it knowingly. I walked straight to that door, and I opened it, and I stepped inside.

I kissed him.

And I hate that I'm still thinking about it. How his finger stroked mine as he stood behind me. His breath warming my shoulder, his closeness like an aphrodisiac. Under the painted stars. I close my eyes and then open them when the door swings inward.

"Jamie." My eyes meet his in the mirror.

He pauses, then glances over his shoulder, like he's debating walking back out. "I didn't know you were in here." His voice is dry, not clipped or angry or annoyed but emotionless, and that worries me.

Jamie's never avoided me. We've argued, of course. We've bickered and snapped at each other and even stormed off a few times, but after the initial argument, he's never avoided me.

He finally sighs and steps in, walks over to the urinal, and turns.

I stay at the sink, sweeping my hair back again, and wait until he stops at the sink next to me.

"I know that it was wrong," I start. "And I'm sorry."

"Are you?" He pushes a dollop of soap into his hand. "Are you really sorry?"

I hesitate, not fully comfortable with my answer.

"Yes," I finally say.

He snorts. "That's interesting." His lips press as he turns on the water. "It's not even just about Indy. You were hiding stuff from me, Lenn." He rinses his hands, then flips off the water, and glares at me through the mirror. "You could have said something."

I let out a slow breath. "Like what?"

"That you were eyeballing Indy's boyfriend for starters."

"I didn't because I knew it was wrong." I just put it out there. It's probably obvious to him anyway, and I don't want to lie. "I fucking hate this—with everyone having secrets and things left unsaid. It's not the way I want to live."

"Well, you and Reed created it." He steps back from the sink, then wipes his hands on his jeans. "So now you have to live with it."

"Jamie," I say, struggling for the right words. It's like all the blood in my veins is emptying out. I've hurt the people I love.

"You disrespected her, Lenn. And that's all I keep thinking about." He crosses to the door and shoves it open, not looking back.

Reed

I hesitate in the doorway to Indy's room.

"Are you coming in?" She kicks off her shoes by the closet, a black and white patterned bedspread neatly made. She's got a ribbon board full of pictures over her dresser, and my eyes settle on it. Lennox and Jamie. There are others from the movie crew too, but it's mostly the three of them.

Fuck, I'm a dick.

"Yeah." I step in. I'm rolling her suitcase, and I push it to the bed, then slide my hands into my pockets and clear my throat. "Nice room."

"Thanks." Her forehead lines. "Um, do you want to close the door?"

I pause again.

She sits on the edge of her bed and then crosses her ankles, wiggling her toes in some fuzzy purple socks. "We're going to talk, right?"

"Yes." I fist my hands in my pockets.

She nods. "I'm guessing from the way you're standing that it's probably a door-closed kind of conversation."

"Probably." I twist back and close the door softly. Indy and I left early—Lennox and Jamie are still back at Randy's. The house is quiet.

I don't know if that was intentional. If they were waiting for us to head back first. Or when they might show up.

Jesus, this whole thing is so fucked up.

I take a breath and move to sit next to her, keeping a foot of distance.

She glances down at the space and then nods.

I set my palms on my thighs. "What I'm about to say isn't going to be a surprise, is it?"

She smiles faintly. "No."

"I still need to say it."

"Yes, you do."

I nod. "So, I don't know exactly where we are in our situationship, and I truly like you, Indy. But I don't see us working out romantically."

"Okay." Her eyes move around my face. "Why?"

I reach up to swipe off my hat, then scratch at my hair before replacing it. My fingers are shaking, an anxious energy making me tap. "Because I think I'm gay."

Holy fuck, I said it. I don't know why, but at that moment, I think of my brother. I obviously never said anything like that to him, but I picture saying it. And… It doesn't feel too bad.

My relationship with my brother is complicated. He's only a few months older than me—we're not related by blood—but he was always about fourteen steps ahead of me, with his friends and his car and his quickness in the pool—he played water polo before me, and he was the reason I started. I always thought that if I could be more like him, then I'd have shit under control too.

And then I became that person. And now I don't need him anymore.

I don't know how that realization comes out with "I'm gay", but it does.

Who I am—whoever that is—it's up to me.

I get to choose.

Indy tilts her head, and I focus back on her.

"That's a very good reason," she says.

I let out a half-held breath. I don't know if it's relief. There's still so much I'm holding back. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Of course you didn't." She uncrosses her ankles. "I mean, I'm disappointed. But if you're gay, then you're gay. That's the end of the conversation."

"I really do like you," I say. "And I'm not just saying that."

"I know." She smiles. "I like you, too. You're a good egg."

I stiffen. "Indy, I don't know if?—"

"You are."

Fuck. My heel bounces on the carpet. This is the part I don't know how to say. If I should say. What's the right thing to do? What kind of person do I want to be?

Whoever I decide .

And I want to give it a shot with him.

I've got no clue if that's even a possibility. I'm not ready—I know that.

But what if this is my chance for something real?

When you have a shot on goal, you take it. It doesn't matter if you're fully ready or not. You just have to polo up and fucking go for it.

So, polo up .

I swipe off my hat, but I turn it backwards this time. No brim to pull down in front of my eyes. "Indy, there's something else I need to tell you."