chapter eight

Sebastian

I hate seeing Evan and Rachel together, but normally, it doesn't really get to me. Maybe it's because I'm usually with Saanvi (who's the queen of distracting me when I get in my own head), or because I only ever see them in passing at school, but seeing their PDA in the booth was a bit much. I mean, she was feeding him fries while Harris was ordering. Does that not seem like a little bit much to anyone else?

It was sweet of Harris to suggest sitting outside, I will say. It was obvious he thought I might be too uncomfy around Evan. He was right about that. I wouldn't have anticipated his being perceptive like that, but I also don't suppose I tried too hard to hide it.

We're sitting out on the black picnic table at the side entrance to Paco's. There's no one here right now, but the table and benches are covered in drops of ice cream and french fry salt. I'm just grateful to be alone with Harris right now.

It was honestly jarring, walking in and seeing Evan there. Why, today of all days, is he getting to me like this?

But seeing him with Rachel ... it always stings, just a little. We broke up after a month-long saga of "I want to tell people we're together, you're my boyfriend" from Evan, who was just as closeted as I was but was willing not to be, and a whole lot of "Evan, my parents do not say yay to gay" from me, who was—and is—very comfortable in the closet. He'd shut down and shut me out not too long before the break up. Which was followed by complete radio silence afterward, because of course it was.

"You not gonna eat that malt?"

I sit up straighter. "Huh? Sorry."

Harris sits on the bench across from me, sitting crisscrossed with his knees pulled up high, amusingly close to his armpits. "You're good. Don't worry about it."

He's using his straw for his shake; I opted for one of Paco's iconic pink spoons. They're a funky fuchsia, one that seems too bright for any of the food they serve, but the shade of pink that they are is admittedly somewhat happiness-inducing.

I take a spoonful of malt. It's mostly runny by this point. I don't care, though. It's more about taste than anything, and with the rich chocolateness flavor with the thickness of the malt powder, I would have a Paco's chocolate malt's babies.

"Are you sure you're good?" Harris asks.

"Yeah. Just ... Evan and I have some history."

"Oh." Harris's eyes widen. "Wait, you guys were together?"

"How did you know that?" My chest tightens. Did I just accidentally out Evan? I thought I was perfectly vague.

Harris swirls his straw around inside the red and white cup. "Because Evan's bisexual, and sometimes when two gay guys in a small town are lonely together very much, they—"

"How did you know?" I repeat.

He gives me a pointed look. "Sometimes, when two gay guys are lonely together very much, they—"

"You and Evan had—"

"No, no, not us, not us." He clears his throat. "Evan and Liam."

I feel myself blink for too long, but it's like I've lost control of my facial expressions. Because, like, okay, huh?

"When?" I ask.

"Ummmm.... Late December, I think? Right before Evan and Rachel got together."

And now I'm sitting there on the bench, my skin crawling, my body frozen. "You're sure it was December?"

"Yeah." He nods. "That's why me and Liam broke up for the last time. They'd been talking for, like, a month."

"He cheated on you?"

Harris just shrugs, evading my eye contact.

"And you're still friends with him?"

"I mean, we were bros before we were hoes, so, yeah. Just decided our friendship was more important."

"Okay like, that's up to you, but I could never forgive someone for that." I glance back inside, where Rachel is finally sitting up on her own, without needing to lean on Evan in order to sit remotely straight. He's still got that arm over her shoulders, though, and from behind, I can see him playing with a strand of stick-straight, light blonde hair, twirling it around and around with his finger.

"He cheated on me," I tell Harris. Because, December? He must have. And they were talking before that? What the fuck?

"Ope."

Ope? I shrug. "Whatever, that just makes me feel a little better about the whole 'breaking up' thing."

"Do you think he broke up with you to try and date Liam?" Harris asks, and I want to know exactly why he's curious. Is it an innocent question, or does he think that my boyfriend was serious about his? I can see why he'd be worried. I'd be, too.

"Nah," I tell him. "We'd been arguing for a while about my not wanting to come out."

"Ohhhh."

"Yeah."

"That's ... shitty."

"Nah, it's fine." Now it's my turn to shrug helplessly. "I can see how it would be frustrating."

Harris props his chin up on his hands, still seated in his awkward criss-cross on the bench. "How so?"

"Well...." I'm struggling to find the right words. I've thought about this a lot since the breakup, but I've never really had the chance to verbalize it. The only person I've talked to about any of this has been Saanvi, and it's almost like she can read my thoughts half the time. She speaks fluent Seb. This time, I have to choose my words completely. "He still isn't out, obviously, not because he doesn't care about labels but because he doesn't want people to treat him differently."

"He told you this?"

"Yeah."

He nods, reaching out with one hand to push his seemingly empty cup away from him. "Okay, sorry, continue."

"Uh, yeah, so, I don't really have that privilege, I guess. My parents likely wouldn't be super happy with me coming out, especially my dad, and I just don't really feel like making that an issue while I'm at home, living on their dime, y'know? I was seventeen. It was something that could wait for me." My dad's favorite red cap sticks out in the back of my mind. The talks of 'that damn Fauci' and 'all lives.' Mom could possibly tolerate me, but Dad? Never in a million years.

"Of course."

"But Evan decided that we were so in love that he wanted everyone to know about us. And I just couldn't do that. You know how people here talk."

Harris nods. Because, yeah, if I had come out, even to just a few people outside of Saanvi, everyone would be talking about it. And it's just not any of their business. The thought of people discussing my sexuality behind my back makes me, for whatever reason, vehemently uncomfortable.

"So," I continue, "I told him repeatedly that I wasn't comfortable, but that we could compromise and maybe come out to a few of his friends or something, because I didn't want him to feel like I was hiding him or that he had to hide me. But he, like, didn't want me to tell his friends? Which was weird. Like, he said we couldn't just tell them. I don't know why."

"That's weird," Harris says. His fists dig into his cheeks, pushing him up and making him look a little bit like a chipmunk.

"Totally. So, he broke up with me on Christmas Eve."

Harris gives me a pitying grimace. "That's fucked, bro."

"Tell me about it." I've lost my train of thought; it takes me a moment to remember what I had wanted to say. "Oh, right, but yeah. Guess he was cheating on me too. Which is great."

"That's extra fucked. I'm sorry."

The thing is, it seems like Harris really does mean it. I'm sorry. My heart twists for him, just a little bit, because even though he's always come across like a little douche canoe when around Liam, he's actually really sweet. Which just makes me feel even worse for him that Liam cheated on him.

He looks at me, his smile soft and understanding, and I can't even bring myself to imagine what I'd be doing today, if not for being here with him. Without warning, he sits up straight, his smile widening suddenly, and says, "I have a place we could go."

A/N - ehehehehehe what's good, twoooo updates!! <33