Nate

I hadn’t even realised I was humming until my mom asks me what I’m humming about.

“What do you mean?”

I laugh, “why do you have to be humming about something?”

“Who is he?”

I turn my face so she can’t see me blushing. “Who’s who?”

“This boy who has you humming and grinning like a cheshire cat.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She comes closer and brushes the hair out of my face.

“Mom, please, stop it.”

She puts her hands up, “okay, I’ll stop, be like that, see if I care.”

I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You are.”

Harrison wanders in wearing his boxer shorts and scratching his balls.

“Where’s the OJ?”

“In the fridge honey.”

He gulps it straight from the carton with the fridge door open.

“Harrison, do you know who your brother’s boyfriend is?”

Can the ground swallow me please? Or her?

Harrison puts the orange juice back without even looking at us.

“How the fuck would I know?”

He slams the fridge door shut and tells me I’d better be ready in half an hour if I want a ride back to school.

When we get in the car, Harrison’s phone won’t sync to the stereo.

“Engels must have fucked with my music again.”

Don’t blush, don’t blush, do not blush!

“, fix this will you.”

He tosses his phone at me and it hits me in the chest.

“Ow, fuck.”

“Jesus, calm down, I didn’t hurt you, what’s wrong are you on your period or something?”

“Oh ha ha, very funny, I’m gay so I must get a period.”

“Whoa, did I say it was because you’re gay? Don’t flatter yourself, I use the same insults on everyone, I don’t make special ones up just for you.”

We’re quiet for a minute while I try to hook his phone up to the stereo to distract him. He mutters something under his breath, and when I ask him what he said, he looks like he’s thinking about telling me, but then shakes his head, “nothing,”

he says. “And for the record, I don’t care that you’re gay, makes no difference to me.”

His phone syncs and some loud rap song comes on and Harrison’s mood lifts.

“So who’s this boyfriend Mom was talking about anyway?”

Fuck. I never thought I’d have to outright lie to him about Jesse. But it’s not like he ever has to find out, right?

“There is no boyfriend,”

that’s technically true, “you know what mom’s like. I was smiling so…”

“smiling means getting dicked down, got it.”

I gasp.

“What? fuck, you’re such a virgin, Mom was totally wrong about you getting laid.”

“Please stop talking like that, I’m your brother.”

“Stop being lame, if I can’t talk to my brother like that, who the fuck can I?”

“Your hockey bros.”

But not Jesse, because I’m the one he’s… nope, not saying it.

Harrison snorts, “hockey bros, what are you, ten?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re looking in the mirror.”

“You’re so stupid,”

I say, trying to keep the smile out of my voice.

Harrison leans over and rubs my head roughly until my hair is all fucked up.

He drops me at the library and just as I’m about to get out of the car, he asks if I’m going to the game later.

“Who are you playing?”

“What difference does it make?”

I shrug.

“We’re playing Quinnipiac.”

“Do you usually beat them?”

Harrison laughs, “why? Do you only wanna be seen with me if I win?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck you, puck drops at seven.”

Harrison slams the door and pulls out onto the street, obnoxiously loud.

I find a table in the reading room and lay my books out in front of me. I have a study plan and a reading list, and though I’ve tried to cut down on studying and be less pedantic about it, I still have to study and I’m still going to be organised. It’s just who I am.

I take my mom’s advice and put a pomodoro timer on my phone with my earphones in so I don’t disturb anybody else.

When the little buzzer goes off, telling me to take a break, I’m tempted to just work through, but I listen to the little voice in my head that sounds like a mixture of my mom and Professor Russell and take a break.

When I’ve been studying for an hour, the pomodoro timer tells me to take a break again. I take my earphones out and text Katie.

‘Meet me at Bean There, needed a change of scene.’

I put my books away and walk over to the coffee shop. Katie’s sitting at a corner table with her books and ring binders open around her. Her hair is being held up by a couple of pens and she has dark rings around her eyes.

“How long have you been studying?” I ask.

She looks up like she doesn’t understand.

“Could you repeat that in German please, I think I broke my brain.”

“You need to take a break.”

“You’re right, I need more coffee.”

There are already three empty coffee cups amidst the mess of her books and folders.

“That’s enough caffeine for you, come on, let’s take a walk, you need fresh air, and some concealer.”

“You’re such a bitch sometimes Nathaniel.”

I narrow my eyes at her and wish I’d never let her see what my mom actually called me. I let everyone think is short for Nathan and that my mom isn’t really cruel.

“I’m kidding, you look beautiful, but tired, when was the last time you slept?”

“I slept last night,”

she says as she collects her books and stuffs them into her backpack, “I just woke up really early, like really early.”

“How early?”

“I’m trying this new thing where you wake up at five am.”

I buy her a bottle of water and make her drink it while we walk.

“You’d better have a good excuse for dragging me out in this weather.”

“I thought you loved fall?”

“This is more like winter.”

“I had sex.”

Katie stops walking and tugs my elbow.

“You mean like… penetration.”

“Urgh, why do you have to make everything sound so clinical?”

“Sorry, I have to take biology to be able to prescribe Viagra and anti-depressants.”

I start walking again and she jogs to catch up.

“So, how was it? That smile kind of tells me all I need to know.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“Did you tell your mom?”

“No, of course not.”

“I told my mom when I lost my virginity.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl.”

“What difference does it make?”

I laugh.

“What?”

“Harrison asked me if I was getting ‘dicked down’.”

Katie spits out a laugh before clamping her hand over her mouth.

“Oh god, imagine if he knew who was doing the dicking…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Hey, you said it first. It is pretty obvious though.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t know until I told you.”

“But I’m sleep deprived, your mom and Harrison obviously know something’s going on with you. You’re way too relaxed and smug to not be having sex.”

“Can’t you be relaxed and smug without having sex?”

Katie pauses to think, “not if you want to have sex, no.”

I snort.

“But how was it, really? Was he gentle?”

“Shut up.”

“What? I’m not making fun of you, I really want to know.”

“It was… it didn’t hurt if that’s what you mean, at all.”

I feel myself blushing. Katie squeezes my arm and I can hear her suppressing a squeal. “He’s a good person to lose your virginity to.”

“And that’s all he is, right?” she asks.

“Right.”

“Except…”

“What?”

“Oh my god, just admit you like him.”

“Of course I like him, but I told you, we’re…”

“not compatible, yeah, yeah.”

“What? it’s true?”

Katie sighs and steps in front of me. “Tell me, what do you really want from a boyfriend…”

I open my mouth and she puts her hand up to stop me, “and I don’t mean superficial things, like job or clothes or interests, I mean, who he is as a person, what do you want from a real partner? I’ll give you time to think.”

She slips her arm back through mine and we walk around the trees now bare of leaves. The wind rushes through the branches and Katie huddles a little closer.

“I want someone kind, who listens, and is interested in the things I’m interested in.”

“Wait, I said not superficial.”

“That’s not superficial.”

“Why do they have to be interested in the things you’re interested in?”

“Because… because we can talk about things.”

“Why do you really want them to be interested in the things you’re interested in? Won’t you have colleagues who you can talk about that stuff with all day? Why do you need your boyfriend to talk about it with too when you get home at night?”

“Because, I want him to understand me.”

Katie makes that face she makes when she thinks she’s made a breakthrough.

“Are you physiatrist-ing me right now?”

“Did all that dicking down knock some brain cells out or what?”

I groan. “I should have never told you that.”

“No, you shouldn’t. But go on, you said you want him to understand you. Tell me more about that.”

“Now you are making fun of me.”

“You’re right, I am, a little, but I’m also not. , you want someone who’ll understand you, that’s called empathy, you want someone with empathy and Jesse has that. He doesn’t know everything you’re talking about all the time because he doesn’t read the same textbooks as you and take the same classes, but he listens to you when you talk, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you have this fantasy of you and your academic boyfriend in your tweed and your apartment filled to the brim with stuffy limited editions and you imagine standing in some wine and cheese party discussing Dostoyevsky…”

“Okay get out of my brain.”

My face is so red right now.

She laughs.

“What is it, beyond the superficial things, the status symbols, the smart boyfriend you can show off to people who you probably don’t like anyway, what part of it actually makes you happy on some deep, visceral level? If you can tell me that in all honesty, then I’ll stop shipping you and Jesse. But if you can’t, then I’m going to annoy the shit out of you until you admit it, because from everything you’ve told me, that boy adores you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated, and he likes you for you, not some superficial bullshit, and you like him, not because he plays hockey, because you fucking hate that, but because of his personality, and I’ll bet not a lot of people have really seen him the way you do before. And if you stop letting your stupid fantasy life get in the way, then maybe you could let yourself be happy, like, really, truly happy, in the real world.”

I stop dead and Katie asks me what’s wrong.

“You’re right.”

“Sorry, could you say that a little louder?”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, can I say I told you so yet?”

“No, never.”

“Go on, just once.”

“No, don’t… don’t do it.”

“just once really fast?”

“no,”

“please?”

“No, don’t.”

“ITOLDYOUSO! Ah, that’s better.”