Chapter 12
W hen we get back to Ethan’s house, I take a shower and change into my pajamas. I made sure I packed the few pairs of shorts that I own, just to make sure I don’t make him uncomfortable lying around in my boxers.
I find Ethan sprawled out on his bed when I knock. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt. Thank God. I was afraid he would be shirtless—it would be hard to hide my boner all night.
Ethan pats the bed beside him and I crawl onto his bed slowly. I sit with my back against his headboard, ankles crossed. He mirrors my pose and turns the television on.
“What do you want to watch, creep?”
I shrug. “You pick. I don’t care.”
He makes a noise in his throat like he’s irritated with me and I laugh. After I picked the shitty action movie, I haven’t picked anymore. That movie was so bad, I don’t think I feel comfortable being in control of the entertainment.
Scrolling through the streaming services, he finds some sports movie and turns it on. It’s some football drama I’ve never heard of that I don’t really understand.
An earlier conversation pops into my head and I glance over at him. “You’re supposed to tell me all about what goes into catching a football.”
Smiling over at me, he mutes the TV and says, “I thought you’d never ask.”
For the next thirty or so minutes, Ethan tells me not only about his position but gives me a brief overview of pretty much every position. He’s very animated, even going so far as to draw me one of his favorite plays. I don’t understand it, but I don’t mind. I like how passionate he sounds.
When he’s done explaining the play to me, I look at him curiously. “Where are you going to college? I know a few of the other football players have announced, with all the press conferences. Which one did you choose?”
He looks at me deeply, like he’s trying to look into my soul. I squirm under his gaze, but I don’t feel uncomfortable. I feel…seen.
Finally, he says, “I didn’t announce because I’m not playing football in college.”
“What? Why? You’re good enough to get a scholarship. I don’t know much about football, but I’ve seen you play. You’re fast.”
Ethan laughs at me like I’m adorable. I roll my eyes at him with a grin. “I don’t want to play in college. I don’t have dreams to go to the NFL like those other guys. I want to be a doctor, like my mom. Not an OB, though. Pediatrics.”
My mouth drops open.
A doctor? Wow. I never would have guessed. I mean, he’s smart enough to do it. I’ve peeked at his grades and he has a 4.3 GPA, same as me. So I’m not shocked by that. I’m more shocked that I didn’t already know. But why would I? This is my first time asking and our first time discussing college.
He's not done surprising me, though. “And I have a scholarship for track and field,” he adds with a hint of pride in his voice.
“Yeah? Ethan, wow. That’s really good. Congratulations. Why doesn’t anyone know? I mean, I never heard about a scholarship.”
If I’m not mistaken, he looks sad. The light goes out of his eyes and he looks away, swallowing visibly.
“I’m sorry,” I utter. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Why are you apologizing, creep?” he asks when he looks back at me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. No one knows because I haven’t told anyone except my parents.
I plan to announce during indoor track season.
I’ve had articles of my times in the paper since I was a freshman.
Reporters keep calling to know my plans.
” He says this matter-of-factly, not in a conceited way.
“Where did you pick?”
A wide smile crosses his face and he turns to face me, looking extremely happy, the light back in his eyes. “USC. I can’t wait to run for the Trojans.”
I stop breathing. Literally stop breathing. This can’t be real, right? We can’t all be going to the same school, right? That would be too much like the stars aligning and finally cutting me a small break.
I gulp and barely get out, “Me too. Well, not running for them, but that’s where I’m going to college.”
Sitting up quickly, he turns to me and grabs my hands. “Are you shitting me?” I shake my head, not able to meet his eyes. “So my creep will be hanging around a little longer?”
My face grows hot, my hopeless romantic heart picking up that he called me his creep .
Nodding, I slide my hands from his and take my previous position of leaning against the headboard. “I’m ready to get out of here. I wish I could leave now.” I say, surprising myself.
“Why?” he asks quietly. He knows a bit about my home life, but not how bad it really is.
Sighing, I scrub a hand down my face. How much do I tell him? I don’t want him to pity me—I just want him to understand.
“My mom doesn’t like that I’m gay. She goes out of her way to remind me that she doesn’t approve.
I would say my father is the same, but I don’t really know.
I haven’t had a real conversation with him in years.
He’s always working. When I do see him, it’s just a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good night’ when he’s getting home from a double shift.
I just don’t want to be there anymore. That house hasn’t felt like my home in years. ”
I’m thankful I don’t cry when I talk about my homelife. It hurts to talk about what I don’t have when he has loving parents that want nothing but the best for him. That’s not his fault, though. His parents are great, and I love their family dynamic.
I’m surprised when I feel his arm go around me and even more surprised when he pulls me over to lay my head on his shoulder. “I hate that you’re going through that, creep. If anyone deserves good things, it’s you.”
I want to believe him, but I’m so pessimistic it’s hard for me to absorb that. “How do you know? You don’t really know me, Ethan.”
With a kiss on my forehead, he tells me, “I do know you. I know you’re kind. I know you’re weirdly funny.” I laugh at that because I am far from funny. More sarcastic than anything. “You’re smart. You’re loyal. You’re good. You deserve good things, creep. And I know you. Just like you know me.”
“Not enough,” I whisper, kicking myself for trying to push him away with my words.
It doesn’t seem to matter, and it doesn’t seem like Ethan is going to give up on me. “Not enough,” he agrees. “But we still have time. Besides, we’ll be at the same university. We have plenty of time.”
“You think you’ll still want to be my friend in college? You’ll have your track friends and school friends. You don’t want the gay kid from high school hanging around like a stage-five clinger.”
I feel his laugh rumble through me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough. “Creep, I’ll probably be your stage-five clinger. Now, hush, so we can watch the movie. I’m going to quiz you on some of the plays.”
Letting out a small laugh, I try to scoot over to my original spot, but Ethan tightens his hold on me. Giving up—because I know he’ll keep pushing until he gets his way—I get comfortable and watch the rest of the movie.
As promised, he quizzes me on some of the positions and laughs at me when I mix them up. I laugh along with him because I really don’t understand what’s going on. He explains what I get wrong and, after a while, I catch on.
This is what I like about hanging out with Ethan.
We just have fun. There’s no pressure for me to be something that I’m not.
Even though I still don’t talk as much as I should, he doesn’t care.
Ethan pulls information out of me and doesn’t seem to mind the work.
I want to open up to him because I trust him.
It’s hard to believe that I trust anyone besides Crystal, but Ethan has more than earned it.
I don’t remember falling asleep. My last memory was laughing at Ethan while he told me about him and Ryder playing pranks on each other at away games. We stayed up for a few hours after the movie went off, and I learned a lot about him in that small amount of time.
Like, I learned he and Ryder have been friends as long as Crystal and me, having met in kindergarten, but in the private school that’s a few miles away. I learned that he’s deathly afraid of spiders, which was the prank that had me cracking up.
Ryder hid some of those Halloween spiders in his gym bag, and Ethan said he screamed so loud, the coach came rushing out thinking someone was hurt.
Finding out that Ethan loves Lord of the Rings was a big surprise.
Not because I didn’t think he was a reader, but because those books are fucking boring.
I’m not sure how anyone loves them, but I think I was more shocked about that than anything else he told me.
I teased him about that, making him tease me for wanting to get a Game of Thrones tattoo, a perfectly reasonable first tattoo. Everyone loves Game of Thrones .
We stayed up trading stories, learning about each other in a way I never thought possible.
I’ve never talked to anyone like I did with Ethan.
He’d almost smashed through the walls I so carefully built around myself, letting him know things that I would generally keep to myself.
Like I want to be a physicist. While it’s not a secret, I don’t share my aspirations with anyone, for fear that they might not happen.
I told him that I want to get published for my work, to learn more about different scientific experiments that will help revolutionize the future.
I also told him about some things I want to do while I’m in college—try new things, make more friends, and get out of my shell more.
I told him I could be free there and try to learn more about myself.
"Don’t worry, creep,” he told me, kissing my cheek as he pulled me closer to him. “You can do whatever you want to do, and if you want my help along the way, I’ll be there.”
I smiled at that and burrowed into his side, since he wouldn’t move his arm from around my shoulder. That’s the last thing I remember before I woke up hot and sweaty.
My eyes still closed, and lying on my back, I feel a tickle on my face. Going from my eyebrows, to my nose, down my lips and over my chin.
Ethan’s finger.
I almost don’t want to open my eyes and break the magic of the moment.
But I do and find Ethan staring intently at me, like he’s thinking of something or has a question.
Squirming under his intense gaze, I croak, “Good morning.”
A smile twitches on his lips. “Morning, creep. Sleep good?”
“Yeah. Hot though,” I joke, pushing against his chest.
He chuckles and scoots over. “Sorry about that.” Hopping out of bed, he holds a hand out to me. I take it and he drags me up and pulls me to his chest, wrapping me in a hug. “Thanks for last night, creep. It was fun.”
It was. I didn’t think I would have such a good time simply talking to someone. I think I laughed more last night than I have in a while. I didn’t feel shy around him last night. I felt…good.
“Come on.” He drags me out of his bedroom and pushes me into the guest bathroom. “Get yourself together so we can lounge around the house all day.”
That’s exactly what we do. It’s amazing. We barely talk, but his company is so comfortable that we don’t feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter.
The fact that I’m so comfortable is not lost on me.
I don’t question it, though. I’m starting to believe that Ethan really wants to be my friend, and he really wants me to open up and trust him because he trusts me.
I’m holding on to what he’s showing me, not going by what my mother tries to convince me guys want from me because of my sexuality.
To my surprise, Ethan has never bought up my being gay. It’s like it doesn’t matter to him. Other dudes would make a big deal out of touching me and sleeping next to me.
Ethan is always touching me. Always kissing me. We’ve slept together twice now. So, he’s definitely secure in his sexuality, and me being gay doesn’t bother him. That makes me feel like this friendship can last.
But he did kiss my neck last night. Three times. I still don’t know what to make of that. Should I make anything of it?
No, not right now. Not when I’m having such a great time being in his company.
For now, I’m going to enjoy sitting around in silence with my new best friend.