Never Will I Ever

Thirteen

Kaleb

I hear Avery well before I see him, and when I glance down at the Garmin on my wrist to catch the time, I can’t help the little smirk that lifts my lips.

11:58 PM.

Well, would you look at that…

Lifting my gaze, I stare out over the dark water of the lake. It’s a cloudy, starless night, the only light coming from the single lamp post above the end of the dock, casting an eerie glow over the seemingly endless pool of darkness.

Avery’s weight on the boards causes the wood to creak beneath his feet as he approaches, only stopping when his shadow falls over me.

“Glad to see you actually can be on time,” I say, keeping my attention trained on the water. “Saves me a lot of digging when I’m already fucking exhausted from swimming across the lake earlier.”

I make sure it comes out in a joking manner—a way to ease some of the tension already present between us—and I’m hoping he’ll throw shade or toss a jab right back. But all I get is a soft “yeah” as he drops down beside me and sets his flashlight in the foot of space between our bodies. I glance over to catch him slipping out of his damn boat shoes before sliding his feet through the water’s smooth surface, causing it to ripple around his ankles.

Awkwardness stifles the air, almost clouding around us in a fog of poison that no amount of brisk mountain air can cleanse.

“So where’s this hatchet you’re so intent on burying?” I ask, another feeble attempt at breaking the ice between us. Or at least putting a crack in it.

Thankfully, this one seems to work, and a soft laugh fills the cool night air between us. It’s a sound I’ve heard from him plenty of times before, but something about this one is different. Almost like it was earned, and that makes it feel a lot more…intimate.

“You know that’s just an expression, right?” he finally asks.

“Obviously. Just figured you might actually bring one in symbolism or something.”

“Symbolism? Seriously?” When I shrug, he lets out another low, throaty chuckle. “You’re kind of a nerd, LaMothe.”

“And if you’re looking to bury this metaphorical hatchet, insulting me is the last way to do it,” I point out.

His face falls ever so slightly, and he shakes his head. “Shit, yeah.”

Well, this is going as well as I figured it would.

Silence sits between us again, allowing the sounds of the forest at night to come to life. The wind in the trees, rustling the leaves. The soft chirps of crickets, and the water gently lapping against the lakeshore.

And it would be so peaceful, if it weren’t for the fucking vise wrapped around my chest.

I have no idea how to start this conversation, nor where he’s wanting it to go, which is why I simply keep my mouth closed and wait. Even if it’s hard not to push for answers. Even if it kills me to be this close to him, feeling the heat of his body radiating toward mine.

He blows out a long breath before whispering three words.

“I’m gay, Kaleb.”

My mouth goes drier than Death Valley on a summer day as the statement registers in my brain. A statement that I wasn’t prepared to hear from his lips, thinking this was him calling a ceasefire, like Colin demanded.

The last place I expected this to go was him…coming out to me.

“Is that the first time you’ve said it out loud?” I finally manage, pulling my gaze to him.

His throat works to swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “Yeah, it is.”

Thought so.

There’s a part of me that had an inkling he might be gay. If not from the way he practically mauled me against that tree, rutting his hard length against me like an animal in heat, then from the small things I’ve picked up on. Not just here, either, but over the past year at school, with the shit he would say to Keene.

It’s different hearing him confirm it, though.

“And how does it feel?”

He’s quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts as his teeth skate back and forth over his bottom lip. It’s like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, when admitting a truth like that should lift it instead.

“Wrong,” he finally supplies, a bit of gravel laced in his voice. “It feels wrong…because I don’t want to be.”

“Why?” I ask instantly, brows crashing together.

“What?”

“Why don’t you want to be?”

Avery’s lips form a grimace, distorting his features. “There’s this…I dunno. A voice, I guess, in my head sometimes. Shame screaming at me, telling me how disgusting it is for me to want the things I do. Not wanting them in the first place would make it a helluva lot easier to manage.”

Just like that, pieces start falling into place.

When it comes to sexuality, I’ve realized sometimes the ones who scream the loudest against us are the ones harboring the very same secret.

Internal homophobia isn’t something I’ve ever struggled with, and I thank my lucky stars for that every single day. Having a family who is loving and accepting of me is all anyone asks for, but especially when you’re a kid growing up in any aspect that “deviates from the norm.”

Only having met Avery’s father a handful of times over the past few years, it doesn’t take a genius to realize he grew up with the exact opposite.

But what doesn’t make sense is…

“Why did you wait until now to tell me? Why not years ago, when we were still friends?”

But even as I ask, I realize the answer. It’s written in misery, right there on his face.

“I couldn’t even admit it to myself, let alone another person.” His head hangs in defeat as he stares at his hands, picking at his nails like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. “I still…don’t think I’m ready to say it to anyone else.”

Rather than being angry or frustrated, I find myself nodding in understanding. His timeline is his own, and there’s nothing wrong with waiting until he’s ready. One person at a time, or the entire world at once. It’s his choice to make.

Ironic, considering it was a choice he’d taken away from others.

His brows form a tight knot in the glow of the lamplight as he leans back on his palms, and it’s almost like he was reading my mind when he mutters, “Keene ghosted me last year.”

Once again, it takes me a second to process his statement, but something in it doesn’t quite add up in my head. “What are you talking about?”

A hint of surprise flashes in his eyes, but his brows remain drawn. “He didn’t tell you?”

Tell me what?!

But rather than screaming it for the world to hear, I shake my head silently.

Avery’s gaze flicks to me briefly before shifting to the lake again. Despite the somewhat relaxed pose, tension still lines his face, clearly attempting to coax the words out of himself. But I don’t press him. I wait.

I wait for him to be ready. However long that takes.

“Earlier during last school year, we started talking. Texting and whatever. A lot.” He pauses and swallows before his gaze drops down to where his feet swish through the water. “We talked about…questioning things and accepting who we are and shit. As it turns out, we both were pretty fucked-up with our sexuality. It was for different reasons, sure, but it was the most I’d felt seen or understood in a long time. It was almost like I had someone going through it with me.” He draws in a long, deep breath. “Except, he didn’t know it was me he was talking to.”

If I thought I was confused before, it’s got nothing on how I’m feeling now, staring at him like he’s grown two extra heads or started speaking in tongues.

“How is that possible?”

His teeth run over his lower lip before sinking them into the flesh momentarily. “Because all the conversations were happening on Toppr.”

I can’t help the way my brows shoot up at his mention of the gay hookup app, where anonymity is easily achieved, seeing as most people don’t show their face. Just whatever body part they deemed hot enough to post as a profile photo.

After matching with someone, it’s up to the user if they want to share more than that.

I’ve used it a time or two for hookups, but it wasn’t really my style. But I had no clue Keene was even on it, let alone Avery.

“Okay, so you obviously never met in person under your usernames while this was all happening.” All he does is shake his head in answer, so I move to my next question. “Then how did you know it was Keene?”

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “His freckles on his stomach. I’d seen them countless times in the locker room, and so when his profile photo showed the same ones, I had suspicions. And then a few times we’d both be online within a very small vicinity, and that only confirmed my theory.”

Well, damn. So much for anonymity.

My mind starts running with scenarios when I ask, “Did you confront him about it?”

That would explain a lot of the tension between the two of them last season. The blowout in the locker room, the jabs and taunts Avery would toss out at any given moment. If one of them was feeling something that the other wasn’t, or if Avery decided he wasn’t ready to confront his sexuality the way Keene was—

“No, he cut things off with me before I could ever work up the nerve to say something,” he replies, fracturing all my internal theories. “At first, I thought it was because he figured out it was me. But then I realized it was because of Aspen, and it made me so fucking angry. How could he share all these private and personal things with me, only to just…” He trails off, letting the sentence hang in the air between us.

“You were constantly spewing hatred at him,” I quickly point out, unable to leave the judgment out of my tone. “At every turn, it was another slur or threat or asshole remark. Things no human wants to hear, but especially when they’re going through such a massive self-discovery. And you knew he was going through that, which only made it worse. Even if he did know it was you—”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of just how convoluted this whole thing is.” Frustration laces the statement, and he shakes his head. “I can’t even choose myself because of how fucking disgusting I feel by even wanting…what I want. But it’s still how I feel.”

The idea of Avery wanting Keene, or even moreso, the thought of them together, leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It feels wrong on so many levels, and I don’t think it’s just because of how protective I feel over Keene either. But that’s something I can unpack another time. Alone, preferably.

Right now, I’d rather garner some understanding on the clusterfuck that got us to this moment.

Avery’s head falls back between his shoulder blades, his eyes locked on the stars overhead when he speaks again.

“You don’t know what it’s like…constantly being at war with yourself. Actively fighting a battle in your mind about the things you want. Trying to convince yourself that it’s okay, that this is who you are, but you’re still revolted by it all the same. Still have this shame screaming at you every time the thought even occurs.”

He’s right; I have no clue the struggle that’s been plaguing his mind.

And I sure as fuck have never felt as alone as he has. Probably for his entire life.

“I’m not saying the things I did or how I acted were logical,” he continues, still talking to the sky with words meant for me. “It was all emotion-fueled, and I regretted sending in that photo the second I saw their faces that day on the field. But obviously it was too late. Pettiness and anger and jealousy had already gotten the best of me, and they paid the price for it.” A soft scoff fills the air, and a tiny woeful smirk curls his lips at the corner. “And now, I guess I am too.”

Another wave of guilt hits me, taking me off guard. At no point did I consider Avery’s side of what happened, only how his actions impacted Aspen and Keene. And while I don’t exactly regret saying something, I realize everything is a lot more nuanced than I originally thought.

“I didn’t think they’d go as far as kicking you out of school,” I whisper, unable to shake the guilt still gnawing at me. “I hope you know the only reason I said something to Coach was because it was the right thing to do. I’d have done the same thing if it were anyone else.”

His head turns, and he meets my gaze. “Neither did I. But I made this bed, and now I need to lie in it. It was a fool’s mission to try placing the blame on you.”

“Maybe then, but it isn’t now.” I pause and blow out a long breath. “I’m sorry. About me going to Colin, I mean.”

There’s a beat of silence as he continues to study me, his expression remaining impassive before he murmurs, “We’ve both done things we aren’t proud of. I think it’s time we just let bygones be bygones.”

“I think we’re finally in agreement on something.”

“About time,” he says with a smirk.

I shrug. “It was bound to happen eventually, right?”

He lets out a soft laugh, and the sound draws out a smile from me too. But then his attention falls to my lips, and all the oxygen in the atmosphere disappears. We’re frozen in the moment, locked in a memory, and I don’t need to be a mind reader to know we’re sharing the same thought.

The kiss .

The one that continues burning inside my head like a white-hot brand, despite my efforts to box it up and shove it aside, never to be touched again. In fact, it seems the more I attempt to ignore how it felt to have his body pressed against me, his lips on mine, the more my mind fixates on it instead.

My windpipe constricts as the memory plagues me, drying my mouth out and forcing me to wet my lips. A movement that Avery watches, ever the captive audience, and I realize…I want him to do it again.

Right here, right now.

Shit.

Avery clears his throat, breaking the moment, before his attention returns to the lake.

“There’s a lot I need to work through while I’m here, I think. A lot of…accepting about who I am that I need to do. And who knows, maybe this”—he motions between us with his hand—“is the first step in that direction.”

For some goddamn reason, my stomach does a little somersault while I whisper, “If you need someone to talk about it with, you know where to find me.”

He nods a couple times before returning his focus to me and offering the smallest hint of a smile. And just like that, it turns out the most shocking revelation of the evening isn’t Avery coming out to me or the whole sordid tale of him, Keene, and that stupid baseball game.

No.

It’s knowing the offer I just made…is one I hope he takes.