Kingston
My best friend is gay, and he’s in love with me.
And he just wants me to bury this and ignore that fact. How the hell am I supposed to do that?
Last night was weird, but then again, it wasn’t. We slept in the same bed, like we always have, but my mind was racing. I don’t know how I didn’t know it. How I didn’t see. It makes sense, now that I know.
He always hated when I tried to set him up with girls. It was almost like it was causing him pain, not just annoying him. And now, I know it’s because he was holding this huge secret all to himself.
I wish I could say I understand why he did and that I’m not hurt, but I am. Camden’s the best person I know. I just want him to be happy. I don’t care if he’s gay. I hate that he thought I ever could. That anything could change my mind about him.
I flop down on his bed, and he shakes his head at me fondly, pulling off his thick plaid jacket and leaving it on the desk chair before landing next to me. He worked today, cutting wood, and I went home for a bit. But now that he’s done, this is where I want to be.
We have school tomorrow, but there’s so many things I want to ask him before we have to face everyone else. Because things have changed.
No, I don’t look at him differently in any negative sense. Not at all. But he hid this from me, and I need to know more. I need him to know he can tell me anything.
“What kind of guys are you into?”
He rolls his head to look at me, his eyes wide. “What?”
I roll to my side, looking at him head-on. “You heard me. What kind of guy is your type? I mean, we know my type of girl seems to be blond and bitchy.”
He lets out a short, kind of confused laugh and eyes me suspiciously. “I thought we were going to drop this.”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “I mean, I let you get away with that last night because I was caught off guard, but I’m your best friend. This is part of you. I’m not burying it, and neither should you.”
He remains lying flat on his back with his head turned in my direction. “Kingston, I can’t . . .” He sighs deeply, then looks away from me and up at the ceiling. “This can’t come out. Not when I’m still in school and still stuck here.”
His words make my chest ache with a horrible feeling, but I’m starting to better understand why he thinks he needs to leave.
Kensley is a small town, and I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who was gay.
At least, anyone who’s come out. I’ve heard stupid shit about gay people my whole life, and it makes me sick to realize he has too.
Shit, he’s probably heard it come out of my dad’s mouth.
“I’m not like that.” I have to say it because it makes my stomach twist in pain, thinking about him believing I could ever be like that. I never thought that shit was okay, but I think now that I know Camden is gay, I hate it even more.
I don’t know if that’s right to admit or not, but it’s true.
He doesn’t say anything, which only makes my nerves kick up more. “You know I’m not, right?”
He turns to face me again, his eyes filled with worry. “I just want to bury it, Kingston. I can’t talk about this.”
“Yes. You can.” I need him to know this. “You can talk to me about anything. I want you to. Now tell me what kind of guys you’re into. Tall? They need to be tall, right?”
He studies me carefully, rolling to his side and tucking his hands under his head. “You’re serious?”
“Totally. You had to listen to me talk about boobs for years. If I’d have known you were into dicks instead of boobs, maybe I’d have shut up about it. But probably not. So, you have a lot of dick talk to make up for.”
His mouth is gaping wide-open right now, and I’m worried I’m fucking this up. I just want him to know I’m cool with this. That it doesn’t make any difference to me. He can be attracted to anyone he wants to.
The whole being in love with me thing is a completely different thing I’m not ready to deal with yet, and I don’t think he is either.
But him being gay?
Yeah. I can handle this.
“I’m not talking to you about dicks,” he says slowly.
I shrug. “Well, you can. You really can. You can tell me anything. What about the tall thing? Does that matter?”
“Are we honestly having this conversation?” He seems completely surprised, and I kick myself again for being a shitty friend. He should know there’s nothing he can’t talk to me about.
“Yes. I want to. You can talk to me.”
“About what my type is?” His eyebrows pull together.
“Yes,” I say again. “I can talk about this stuff. It’s no big deal.” And it doesn’t feel like it is. Not really. We’re still the same people, and hell, maybe I’ll get him to actually talk about sex and stuff now, instead of just grunting his answers.
He shakes his head at me, but he’s smiling, so that’s a start. “I’m not talking about my type. I don’t even really know what it is.” I watch as he swallows his feelings and then smiles a little bigger. “But thank you.”
“Don’t bury anything, not from me.”
“Okay.” He says it too quietly.
“I mean it, Cam. Nothing. Don’t hide anything from me ever again. You can talk to me, and you damn well better talk to me.”
“Okay, Kingston. I promise.”
I study him closely, making sure he knows how much I mean it. When I’m satisfied, I flop onto my back and feel content with that. “Okay. So now, let’s talk about dicks.”
He hits me with a pillow in the face, and we both laugh.
And again, things feel right in the world because Camden is happy.