Chapter Three
“Hey,” Elliot said as he walked out of calculus. Damon saddled up beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in English?”
Yes, Elliot knew Damon’s entire schedule by heart.
Yes, he realized he was obsessed with him to a more-than-friend degree.
“Yeah,” Damon said. He wrung his hands and looked around the hall with a wild, frantic look in his eyes. “But I need to…I need to talk to you.”
“Now? Ms. Benson will chew you out if you’re late.” Elliot furrowed his brows as he got to his locker and exchanged his books.
“Is this because I didn’t ask Madison out yet?” Elliot sighed. “I just... I don’t know. We both already know we’re going together. Do I really have to ask her?”
Damon shook his head. “It’s not about that.”
“Okay…”
One of Damon’s baseball teammates slapped him on the back in a passing greeting. Damon forced a smile at them as they walked away. “Maybe here isn’t the best place.”
“Dude,” Elliot said. “What the fuck is going on?”
Damon was so easygoing. This was incredibly unsettling. He had two modes: happy and bouncing-off-the-walls excited. The only time Elliot had ever seen him outside of those two emotions had been when Damon’s dad died in a car accident.
Elliot’s stomach plummeted like it always did when he thought of that day, about his failure, about Damon’s despair.
“Can you be late for your next class?” Damon asked.
He was officially scaring him. Had something terrible happened?
“Yeah,” Elliot said. “What’s going on? Is it your mom? Is she okay?”
He tried to recite the spell he used to calm his panic. Don’t take the bait, decrease my heart rate.
Except, like usual, his magic didn’t work when he really needed it, and Elliot spent the next thirty seconds spiraling out as Damon pulled him by the arm to the restroom.
Was his mom sick, or was he sick? Oh god. What if Damon was dying? If Elliot was better at healing magic, maybe he could do something. Maybe he could get his grandmama to help. Maybe it wasn’t too late—
“She’s fine. Everyone’s fine,” Damon said.
Elliot exhaled.
Damon released him once they were in the restroom. He did the thing they do in the movies where they kick open all the stalls to make sure they were alone.
The bell rang, echoing in the empty tiled bathroom. They were officially late.
Damon whipped around, glanced at the door behind him, and then whispered, “Are you gay?”
Elliot froze, muscles tensing like an animal caught in the crosshairs. His hands tingled, the magic in him trying to escape, to heal something and dissipate the fight-or-flight response bubbling inside of him.
Damon’s eyes darted around his face, searching for the answer, since Elliot couldn’t find his voice. “You can tell me, Elliot. Just…You can tell me anything. I’m your best friend.”
Elliot hung his head, staring toward the floor but not really seeing anything.
This wasn’t how he’d fantasized coming out to Damon.
He imagined one day he’d gather the courage to say, I’m gay, Damon, and I want to be with you in a way that is more than friendly.
At first, Damon would be taken aback, but then he’d smile his usual smile and grab Elliot and pull him close, and Damon’s lips would find his and—
“Elliot?”
Elliot blinked away the fantasy. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m gay, okay?”
Damon’s face crumbled, and he grabbed his stomach like he’d taken a punch to the gut.
Elliot had imagined a lot of worst-case scenarios to admitting his sexuality, but Damon being disgusted hadn’t been one of them. Damon had never made homophobic comments, had never shown any signs that he might be upset with his best friend liking men.
Elliot focused on the little rectangle window high above the stalls. He wasn’t very tall. It was unlikely he’d be able to crawl out of here. He’d need a lift to reach it.
And wasn’t that what was truly fucked? Elliot couldn’t even imagine an escape plan that didn’t involve Damon’s help.
Damon stepped sideways, blocking Elliot’s view of the window. “I’m not judging you. I don’t care if you’re gay.” He reached out a hand to grab Elliot’s shoulder but then pulled it back.
Elliot scoffed to hide the fact his insides were being shredded into pieces. “Yeah, okay, Damon. Is that it? Can I go to class?”
Damon ran a hand down his face. “Elliot. Why are you…? Why didn’t you tell me? Chelsea had to tell me.”
Elliot pursed his lips. “How did Chelsea know?”
He shrugged. “She said she just knew. That everyone knows. Everyone except me, I guess.” He leaned on the sink. “Why, Elliot? Why’d you let me go on and on about hooking you up with girls and all that bullshit?”
Elliot sighed. “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to date anyone.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why can’t you date guys?”
“You mean all the guys who are interested in dating a skinny-ass nerd like me? Oh, wait.” Elliot snapped. “There are none of those.”
Damon rubbed his palm over his chin. “I’m sure there are guys in our school who are gay too. I’m sure—”
Elliot snorted. “Oh, there are. That’s not the problem. I’ve fucked around with them, but they aren’t interested in dating.”
Damon’s eye twitched.
Elliot’s cheeks heated. Damon had never been shy about sharing his hookup history, but apparently the thought of Elliot messing around with guys was too much.
Damon made a helpless noise, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s like I don’t even know you. You know everything about me. And you have this whole other life that you’ve kept from me.”
Elliot threw his arms up. “I’m allowed to have things I keep to myself! Just because you want to describe in excruciating detail the way pussy tastes doesn’t mean I have to return the favor.”
Damon’s eyebrows pulled down as sadness deflated his features.
Regret pitted Elliot’s stomach. It wasn’t true. He wanted to know every single detail about Damon, even the parts that made him burn with jealousy, but he couldn’t take it back now. He turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, “I have to go to class.”
Damon didn’t stop him.