chapter two

Sebastian

Harrisons' hair is still wet from the lake, slicked back as if he meant to show off his strong, squarish face. His cheeks are flushed a blotchy crimson, although I'm pretty sure it's due to the cold, and not the shots of tequila I saw him downing with Liam Grande earlier. The light of the filet shack behind us casts a warm golden light on him, one that catches the droplets of water on his temples and makes his skin glow.

Y'know, he really is a punchable bastard.

"Not all Midwestern gays drive Subarus," I tell him, because it should be obvious. How sad is it that I'm allowing myself to feel emasculated by Harrison McCammon, of all people. I hop into the truck, trying not to get too pissed off. I'm too tired to deal with his petty, microaggressive bullshit today.

I'm not even buckled in when Harris rips open the passenger door and gives me a wide-eyed stare, tilting his head as if he's confused about something. Meanwhile, all I'm thinking of is the feeling of his hands firm against my chest, head tilted up as our lips pressed together, him murmuring my own name against my mouth.

Which, whatever. Whatever. He never talked to me again after that. So, screw Harrison McCammon, and his stupid parted lips. Fucking mouthbreather.

But then he asks, "You're gay?"

And all I want to ask back is, How fucking drunk were you? But I don't. I just say, "Uhhhh, yeah? We kissed once, dude."

His face crumples. Somehow, his eyes get even wider.

So, um, he most definitely does not remember that.

The back of my neck heats up. "Do you ... do you not remember that?"

"Fuck no," Harris says, shaking his head. He lifts himself into the truck and sits in the passenger seat, staring forward a few moments before looking over at me. "When was that?"

"Elana Doorsey's New Years party," I tell him. Everyone was there, even me and Saanvi. It was right after Evan and I broke up, and it was where everyone said Liam temporarily dumped Harris for the umpteenth time. I figured I was a rebound kind of situation for him, and that's why I was so easily ignored the Monday after the party. Harris never even tried to speak to me after that—not that he ever had before, of course.

"Oh." He winces. "I don't remember any of that."

I blink. "Not any of it?"

"No. That whole night is ... well. A blur, pretty much. I didn't even realize you were gay."

I shrug, even though it stings more than I'd like it to. If Harris doesn't remember our kiss, then there's no way I could possibly expect him to recall my own queerness. I'm content in the closet—that's why Evan and I broke up, after all. Because, even if I loved him, the idea of coming out to my parents, who aren't the nice kind of Methodist, was far from appealing. And that was a no-go for Evan. I don't understand how or why it stings, the fact that Harris doesn't know. I don't know, maybe it would have been nice to have someone aside Saanvi and Evan be in the know. Someone who gets it who's not my ex.

I start the engine and peel out of the parking space, tires fighting to maintain a strong hold on the loose gravel. Harris stares out the front dash the whole time. I want to tell him it's okay, he's allowed to make eye contact with me. I won't verbally eat his face off, not like Saanvi would. I'm by and large apathetic to most people. I don't think it's misanthropy, I think it's laziness. In this case, I'd feel quite comfortable declaring it the latter. The garden of fucks I give about Harrison is completely devoid of any and all signs of fuck-giving life.

I'm playing Mountain Goats on the radio, from off one of the CDs that Saanvi and I burnt together when we were thirteen and thought we were the only people in the world who listened to this music, our music, even though we only found it because it was in a John Green movie. I'm having a suitably enjoyable time ignoring Harrison and his marble-chiseled cheekbones until he breaks the comfortable silence.

"I'm really sorry," he says.

I glance over at him. His hair has begun to dry, and a few stringy strands of hair in the front are curling erratically in front of his face. He stares straight ahead, right out at the truck headlights illuminating the pitch black stretch of road before us. I look back too. Everything stops shaking as we finally get off the gravel portion, transitioning to smooth blacktop. Newly painted dashes in the middle of the road are garishly bright.

"It's fine," I tell him. And it is. "I don't care." Because I don't.

"You sure?" he asks.

"I'm sure."

"Because ... you don't sound sure."

My hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles going white against the black leather. I fight the urge to turn to him. "What do you mean, I don't 'sound' sure?"

I see him shrug in my periphery. "Whatever. You just don't."

"Okay, and? I don't—"

A small grey form darts out onto the road. Instinct kicks in. Everything feels as if it goes by in slow motion. I hear Harris yelp as I slam on the breaks. I block my face with my arms right before I'm thrown into the steering wheel. The car screeches to a halt. Harris' head hits the dashboard.

Everything is silent, the only sound being the Mountain Goats on the radio, and my own heavy breathing.

I'm too scared to look over at Harris. I can't believe my airbags didn't deploy. If something happened to him, I don't—

"Jeeeesus fucking Christ," he groans, still slumped up on the dash. "Fuuuucking hell."

He tries to sit back, his hand immediately going to his temple, where I can see a shining trail of blood already trickling down over his brow.

Oh my god, my parents are going to murder me.

"Let me see that." I toss the car in park and lean over the center console to try and examine where he must have banged his head.

Harrison's eyes focus on me. At least he doesn't seem out of it. But then he asks, "Is the rabbit okay?" and I'm suddenly a little less sure.

"Fuck the rabbit, are you okay?"

He waves me off with his free hand. "I'm all good, don't worry."

"Let me see your head, Harris."

"Jesus, it's just a little cut." He moves his hand, and to his credit, no waterfall of blood comes gushing out. At least that I can tell in the darkness. "Head wounds bleed more. I'm seriously good."

I'm still not entirely convinced, but whatever. Not my head. Kind of my problem, but not my head. I lean over and open the glove box—all too aware of Harrison's knees, torso, face, right there next to me if I look up—and pull out some Culver's napkins. "Here. There are more in there if you want any."

I press them into his palm, and although I can only see his face in the outline of the car stereo light, I just know he's looking right at me. I feel the warmth of his fingers through the napkins in his palm. The tips of his fingers find my own. A shiver shoots up my spine.

"Thank you," he murmurs, but doesn't move his hand.

My breath is completely caught in my throat. "Should I turn on the light so we can take a better look at it?"

"No, this is—this is okay. Thank you."

I don't sit back up. I'm frozen, somehow. I'm waiting for Harris to tell me what to do. To tell me to sit back up, to tell me to drive. To tell me to take him home and never speak to him again. But then I see him there, the outline of him leaning in towards me. The scent of cheap tequila and coppery blood is a strange mix, especially with the overpowering lake water smell trapped to both of us, but I'm not focusing on that. I'm focusing on the warmth of his breath as I feel him exhale against my Cupid's bow, how one of his hands miraculously finds the underside of my jaw in the darkness. He tilts my chin towards his, and I have a flash of deja vu.

But it's different this time. Last time, our kissing was just sloppy fumbling around in the dark, taking cheeky shots to rile each other up. I had thought that there were sparks before, but now I know how wrong I was, because when Harris' lips meet my own, I know: this is what sparks feel like.

Harris' mouth is small, almost doll-like, and something about the way he kisses me with that mouth of his feels so sweet that I'm about to combust right here in my seat. My hands stay on my lap, because I don't know what on earth I'm meant to be doing with them, but I can feel a strange tingling in my fingers as goosebumps raise along my arms.

His hand tightens in my hair, a fist knotted behind my head pushing me, pulling me into him. I'm loving it, but I still have to force myself back to catch my breath.

"Sorry," he says, similarly breathless.

"Don't be." I inhale deep.

And then he laughs, almost incredulously. I look away, out the front windscreen onto the road. The harsh yellow of my brights turns the gravel a sepia-toned golden. Ahead of us, I spot a raccoon disappearing into the high grass of the ditch next to the road. Mosquitoes and moths flit around the headlights, a reminder that a groggy, humid summer lies ahead of us.

"Sorry," he says again, "I just—I didn't expect that. That was ... that was really good."

"It was?" No one's ever told me a kiss was good before, let alone 'really' good. Fuck, why did I jump off a cliff's edge to try and 'live a little' when I could have been kissing Harrison McCammon all along?

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Okay."

"Well, thank you."

I can hear him finally seem to catch his breath. "No, thank you. We should, um. We should do that again sometime. If you'd like."

I hear my engine thrumming, just under the radio. A grasshopper sounds off outside near the truck. I didn't picture tonight winding up like this, soaking wet hair and kissing Harrison McCammon in my truck. But if the nerve-wracking tension in my stomach and chest is telling me anything, it's that this boy is doing things to me that no one has ever done before. It's almost scary, but I want to kiss him again. No, I need to kiss him again.

I don't say anything. I just reach across the center console and tug him into me.

a/n - i feel like i usually write slow burn so i have NO IDEA if this is good but like ... ayyyyyyy

second semester of uni is wrapping up for me! new thing from me: i have a job as a concert promoter now (my boss said it's basically just babysitting bands; we do concerts with bands like the rare occasions and daisy the great, and i'm so hyped)

hope you guys are all doing well! i'm hoping to update again before the ONC deadline tomorrow, lol. we'll see how that goes

anyways, enjoy, and as always, if you have feedback or suggestions or just any thoughts at all, please don't hesitate to let me know!!