Chapter two
When he got home, he fixed himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sat at the table to eat it with a huge glass of milk. He’d managed not to cry. He didn’t want to cry, but his eyes burned with unshed tears. Hell, he should be sad. He’d lost his best friend.
His mom came in and sat down across from him. “What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Tate’s mom called me at work.” She was a receptionist at a busy doctor’s office and hated getting personal calls.
He threw his hands up in defense. “I was just looking for Tate.”
“Okay… Uh, she, uh... said she saw you and him at the track the other day and was concerned your friendship was more than, uh, friends. Do you want to talk about that?”
“What?” He was shocked. Things that happened on that level were supposed to stay between boyfriend and girlfriend—or boyfriend and boyfriend—or whatever. “I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.”
“You matter. Your feelings. Chester, are you alright? Are you mad?”
“Mad? No. Confused. Sad. Tate left without saying goodbye and I really liked him.”
“I know you’ve been friends a long time.”
“Maybe we could have been more than friends.” Chester looked down at the table. “Would that be alright?”
“Yes. With me. I just want you to be happy.”
“Was it not okay with Tate’s mom?”
His mom shook her head. He could see the sorrow in her eyes, and he knew. Tate’s leaving had more to do with that kiss out on the track than Tate going to the pros. He scrunched his face up, feeling a little guilty, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.
“So, are you gay, Chester?”
His eyes flew wide. She was going to talk about it. Right now. He took a resigned breath, figuring he might as well get it over with. “No. Not really. I mean I really like Mary Beth. But, maybe we’re going to break up.”
“Because of Tate? Because you’re gay?”
“No. It isn’t about that. But, I do like him, or did. I guess I wouldn’t have minded being his boyfriend, but that’s not happening now. So, I don’t know. I’m confused.” He sucked his lip between his teeth and stared at his half eaten sandwich. “Is that what being gay is?”
“No, not really. I think the term you want is bi-sexual.”
“What’s that?”
She pulled her chair in closer to the table. “When someone likes both guys and girls.”
“So, are you okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s different. It’s not straight. It’s not gay. It kind of feels like it’s not anything. Like I just made it up. ‘Cause Tate kissed me.”
“It’s a real thing and it’s okay. But, don’t worry about labels, Chester. You just do you.” She stood up, scraping the chair legs against the linoleum. She scrubbed at his hair before she left like she used to do when he was little.
“Just do me,” he said under his breath. That’s all he really could do. He took another bite of sandwich.