Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Matt grins.
“And the joke’s on both of us, because even after what happened between us, I thought I was still straight. Turns out, not so much.”
“You’re—”
“Bi. Apparently. It’s a new revelation. Still seems fake when I say it aloud, but I’m slowly getting there.” It’s rolling off my tongue easier now. My head knows it to be true, but I don’t know why it’s hard to admit it aloud. There’s a small part of me that worries how people will react, but I don’t know why. When I was outed back home, I didn’t give a shit what people thought. Maybe that’s because I thought it was fake. This is real. And the threat of someone reacting violently is real, even if the world is getting better. Slowly. Really fucking slowly.
The smile on Matt’s face falls. “Wait, is that why you’re here? So we could …” He waves a finger between us. “Because I don’t think that’s a good—”
“No. I’m not here for that. It’s a long story, but my hometown thinks I’m gay, so I guess, technically, I’m already out. I haven’t had a massive struggle with this. But the thought of going through what you are right now …”
“Oh, so this visit is out of pity? Thanks, but I don’t need it. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“No. It’s not pity. I’m screwing this up. I’m here as a friend, letting you know you don’t have to do this on your own if you don’t want to.”
Matt’s eyes glisten but he shakes it off to hide it. “Want coffee?”
“Sure.” I dump my bag on his couch and follow him into the kitchen.
“Plan on staying?” He tips his head toward my bag.
“Nah, heading home after here to see my parents and aunt who’s visiting.”
“And everyone at home thinks you’re gay?”
“It’s not an interesting story. Trust me. It also makes me out to be an asshole, so I’m not going to share it right now.”
“What’s the fun in being losers if we can’t make fun of ourselves while doing it?”
“Matt, you’re not a loser.”
He lets out a sad laugh. “My contract, which was in the middle of negotiations, isn’t up for renewal anymore. Funny how it disappeared when the photos were leaked. I can’t leave my apartment without being stalked by paparazzi, and my management team has told me there’s nothing they can do in terms of getting me a new contract. No one wants to invite this circus to their club. And to top it off, my endorsements are gone. If that doesn’t tell you I’m a loser, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“You haven’t left your apartment in a week?” I realize he spat a whole lot of other important shit at me, but that’s the thing I get stuck on.
Matt shakes his head.
“Want to come home with me for the weekend? No one’s going to be looking for you in the sticks.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Sure. Last month I brought home a baseball player. This month a football player—a famous football player. That’s one way to keep the gay rumors afloat.”
“Okay, please tell me that story.”
“I will on the long-ass drive. We can take your car, right? Otherwise, you might be spotted on the train.”
“No problem. I’ll go pack a bag.”
***
Getting out of Philly proves more difficult than we expect. Those fuckers with cameras follow us in their vans. Doesn’t help Matt drives a Lamborghini. Way to be inconspicuous.
We think we lose the vultures around the exit for Red Hill but can’t be sure. It takes half as long to spill my story to Matt than it does to lose the people chasing him.
“Wait, wait, wait. Your ex told your entire town you were gay, you never bothered correcting them, and it turns out you do like guys?”
“Yup.”
At least my story puts a smile on his face. I get the feeling he hasn’t smiled that wide in a long time.
When he pulls up to my parents’ driveway, he makes no move to turn the car off. “I’ll leave you to your family thing if you point me in the direction of the nearest hotel.”
“The best you’ll do in these parts is a motel, back on the main strip. You have a choice of one. Told you we’re small town.”
“Better than the four walls of my apartment.”
“I was in your apartment, and I guarantee you, there’s way more walls than four.”
He waves me off. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have dinner with the folks and message you later. Maybe we can hit a bar tonight or something.”
“Uh, dunno if that’s a good idea.”
“Right. Public. We can hang out in your room. Might be an idea to book the room under my name. We may be small town, but we are connected to the internet, and news of a celebrity will spread.”