Chapter 3
COVEY
“Iguess I’ll go out there and tell my mom she was mistaken.” I didn’t expect her to be so excited by the idea of Aidan being my mysterious lover. We were like brothers growing up. He came on every family vacation and essentially lived at our house half the time. The other half, I lived at his.
A picture begins to form in my mind. The image of our moms sitting on the back porch, imagining our futures together while we played on swing sets and staged sword fights. Aidan’s appearance at the front door made her dreams come true, which makes what I have to do even worse.
“It won’t be a big deal.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.
“Which part? That I’m not your boyfriend or that you made one up?”
Those can’t be my only options. Maybe there’s a secret trap door in my bedroom that I don’t know about? Perhaps one that connects to an alternate dimension?
“I don’t know.” I sink to the floor. Despite the changes in décor, this room is still familiar.
How many times did I sit here over the years, contemplating my future?
I guess this is what they mean when they say life comes full circle.
“I’ll probably tell them that my boyfriend isn’t going to make it tonight.
” Maybe I can fake a call that he’s stuck at work.
“Then next week I’ll tell them that he’s relocating for work and that we decided against long-distance.
” It’s the best solution I’ve come up with so far.
A nice, amicable split that leaves me sad, but not inconsolable.
Enough for a hint of sympathy without anyone feeling the need to check on me constantly.
“You think they’ll buy that?”
My mom’s already suspicious. All she needs is the tiniest crack, and she’ll break the whole thing wide open. “Probably not. Although…”
I look over at Aidan. He looks exactly how I remember him, even with shorter hair and a bit of muscle.
It’s impossible not to think back on all the times we sat in this very room, talking about nothing and everything, often in the same conversation.
It’s the exact positions we were in when I choked out the words to tell him I’m gay, terrified he’d walk out and never speak to me again.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and told me I was his best friend in the whole world.
He sat right next to me when I told my parents, just like I sat next to him shortly after when he told his parents he’s bisexual.
“Although what?”
“Maybe you could help me out.”
Aidan sighs, the same sound of exasperation that I recognize from our teenage years. He wrings his hands, gaze fixed on me. “How, Covey? I can’t find you a boyfriend. If I knew a good-looking, eligible man, I’d be dating him myself.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.
My plan is perfect. “Nothing like that. You could tell my family that you’ve met him.
Maybe the three of us had dinner a couple of times.
They’ll believe anything you say.” I may have a reputation for stretching the truth.
If another person has seen this imaginary boyfriend, then it gives me enough credibility to make it through another week. Maybe even a month if Aidan sells it.
“I don’t know, Covey. I didn’t even know you moved back here. They’ll never believe that we’ve been hanging out.”
Ouch. Those words hurt. Aidan and I kept in close contact for a long time, exchanging hundreds of emails, text messages, and phone calls.
But distance is hard. The more miles and time that separated us, the harder it was to connect.
At first, I came home often for breaks and holidays, but as the years dragged on, I found excuses to stay overseas more often than not.
My parents visited me instead, using it as a reason to vacation in Europe.
Eventually, it had been years since I came back to Vermont.
Aidan would always be important to me, but our relationship over the last several years consisted of liking each other’s posts on social media.
Not a high-quality relationship. I even opened our text chain a few times, intending to say…
something. But nothing ever felt like enough to break the silence.
“I meant to call you,” I say, though even as the words leave my mouth, I can hear how little they mean. Meant to call is pretty shitty. I can’t argue that I haven’t had time, because I have. Or at least, I could’ve made time.
“My number’s the same as it’s always been.” Aidan shrugs at me.
“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about, Hi, Aidan. I moved back to town. We should get a beer sometime.”
“I like that. Can you write it down for me?” A pillow hits my face before I can get a hand up. I deserve that and probably a lot more. “Would you like to get a drink sometime? Maybe even an actual meal?”
“Whoa. That’s a big step. Will your boyfriend be joining us?”
“That’s up to you.” I might have a lot of ideas about things we could go downstairs and tell my family right now.
Things we could say that would help convince them that the whole thing isn’t a figment of my imagination.
Except, for the first time tonight, I don’t care.
I’d rather have this—the possibility of rekindling my friendship with Aidan.
The rest of it? I can deal with it later. Or never if I’m lucky.
“I’ll do it.”
“You’ll tell them that you met my boyfriend? Maybe we went on a double date?” Hey, it’s got to sound believable
“Sure. What are friends for?”
AIDAN
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you.” The words come easily, and not for the first time in our friendship.
Covey has always been there for me. Even if it’s been a year since we last spoke, I know he’d come running if I called.
I don’t need a test to prove it. The relationship between us has always been solid, no matter the time or distance.
“You’re the best. You know that, right? They’ll be so happy.” Not quite as happy as they were a minute ago, but at least it’s a step in the right direction.
“Let’s get this over with.” There’s no point in prolonging this any longer than necessary. Tomorrow, there’s plenty of grading and lesson planning to get done, but for tonight, my only big plans involve a Netflix marathon and falling asleep in my recliner. What can I say, I live an exciting life.
Déjà vu comes over me as I follow a skipping Covey down the stairs. How many times did we end up in this exact position, me ready to follow him into some half-cooked scheme?
“Mom?” Covey calls as soon as he hits the bottom step. “Aidan’s leaving.”
She pops her head around the corner and stares at us with a look that can only be described as stricken. “Oh no. Did something happen?”
“No, Mom. He has other things he has to finish up tonight.”
She ponders his words for a second, looking between us, trying to figure out what to say. “I thought you were going to invite him to stay for dinner.”
Covey sucks in a breath, so loudly that everyone in the room must hear it.
I feel for him. Really. His mother is incredible, but she can also be a lot.
Covey always put a lot of pressure on himself, especially when it came to his family.
And where home always served as my safe space, I don’t think Covey got the same break that I did.
He thrived under the pressure of the dance studio, quickly becoming their best dancer.
At home, he always struggled to be the best son.
He went through months of turmoil each time he decided on something he didn’t think his family would agree with.
Changing schools, moving away. They all cost him.
Not that he’d say a word about it to anyone.
Except me. It was the kind of thing we whispered to each other at sleepovers, under the cover of darkness.
“The truth is—” he starts.
“I’m so sorry,” I interrupt. “It’s my fault. I didn’t plan my calendar appropriately. I promise I’ll do better next time.”
“So, the two of you are…” His mother waves her hand in front of her a few times, encouraging me to continue.
I reach out and take Covey’s hand. “Together.” Have I lost my mind?
Possibly. There’s something about being back in this house that’s sparked a renewed sense of spontaneity.
Or perhaps pure recklessness. Hard to tell at this point.
Whatever it is, I just offered to be Covey’s boyfriend.
Fake boyfriend. I can’t even look at him, afraid a single glance will give us away. Instead, I focus on Edith.
“I knew that if we waited long enough, the two of you would figure something out.” This is going to be more difficult than I thought. Not the convincing part—apparently that’s covered—but the inevitable breakup. “You’ll have to come over another time. Then you can tell me everything.”
Suddenly, this feels way more complicated than I thought. It’s not simply a one-and-done deal. Now we need a whole cover story. Usually, it’s Covey who comes up with the crazy schemes. He makes it look so easy. Maybe I’m doing it wrong?
“Okay, Mom, he has to get going.” Covey pulls me toward the front door.
“Come back soon, okay?” she calls. “You’re always welcome here.”
“Yeah, thanks.” It’s always been my second home. Guess there’s no reason for that to change now. Except that the whole reason I’m invited over is a sham.
Covey has me out the door before I can fall into a complete anxiety spiral. “What the hell?”
“I can’t… I don’t…” Is the ground spinning? It feels like it might be spinning.
“Aidan?” Covey squeezed my hand a few times. “I would’ve figured something out. You didn’t have to do that.”
And that’s it, isn’t it? Covey always figures something out. For once, I wanted to be the one who saved the day for him. The one who got him out of a mess. God knows he’s done it for me dozens of times.
“I don’t mind.” There’s no reason to backtrack now. “Really.”
“It’s only until New Year’s.” Two months? Easy. “Then we can come up with a good reason for us to break up. Tell everyone we’re better as friends.”
Right. Friends.