Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
My heart twinges for him. “Oh, so when you said they knew—”
“Doesn’t mean they like it. I mean, they didn’t cut me off or kick me out or stop paying my tuition or anything, but suddenly, my father was willing to let me go to grad school here. Couldn’t drop out of Harvard, of course. Had to keep my ‘extracurricular activities’ to myself and not embarrass him, and now if it does ever get back to his circle of elite-class friends, they’ll all say, ‘Oh, the move to California makes sense now.’ But … could’ve been worse.”
Our waiters bring out some more dishes, and our small table is suddenly full.
I turn to one of them. “Is it possible to get everything else in a couple of to-go boxes?”
“We thought that might happen, sir. It’s not a problem.”
“Thank you.”
“Is that going to be your food for the week?” Levi asks.
“Nah. I know exactly where to take it.”
When we’re done stuffing our faces with as much food as I can get away with without repercussions tomorrow and Levi looks like he’s going to throw up, there are so many leftovers, we each have four boxes of food to carry back to campus. Levi didn’t hesitate to help me deliver them to some very starving college students.
“Where exactly are we talking these?”
“Liberty Court.”
“What’s that?”
“On-campus share houses. We’ll take this to the Stormer house. They’re, uh, known to get the munchies a lot, if you know what I’m saying.”
Levi tries not to smile. “Yeah. I might be familiar with that.”
My stomach flips the way it did back in high school and fills with warmth, the memory of him sucking on a joint and then sharing the smoke with me flooding my memory.
I almost trip over my feet.
Levi manages to balance his four boxes in one hand while saving me from going ass over tit with the other. “Aren’t you a football player? Shouldn’t you have a bit more balance?”
“You’d think.”
“You all good?” Levi’s hand is warm on my skin, and I’m tempted to say no so he’ll keep touching me.
“Yup,” I croak.
“So, Stormer house, you say? Noted.”
“There are also dispensaries on every other corner in San Diego.”
“Also noted.” He side-eyes me. “Though, I have to say I don’t really turn to weed as much as I used to.”
“Aww, too good for it, Mr. Hahvid?”
“Pfft. It was everywhere on campus, but it no longer carried out its purpose.”
“Getting high?”
“Getting my father’s attention. In fact, working out I was gay made me never want to draw his attention to me again.”
I have no idea what to say to that. When I hooked up with Levi that night, being scared of the outcome—questioning my sexuality, coming out if I had to—never even crossed my mind.
Sure, the career thing made me pause, but if my dads could do it a billion years ago, I could do it too. I never worried about what my family would say or do if they found out. Other than mercilessly embarrass me about it by throwing some ridiculous over-the-top penis party or some shit.
Which, thankfully, they didn’t do, but only because I lied and said the hookup meant nothing and I was still straight.
When Brady came out, however, our dads took him to a strip club. I wasn’t there, but he said it was one of the most mortifying experiences of his life. I didn’t need to know any more than that.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me,” Levi says.
“I don’t. Well, I kinda do, but only because I can’t imagine what that was like for you. My dads paved the way for so many queer kids, especially ones in sports, that parents not accepting their gay child still confuses me. I know it happens, logically, but it’s still a shock every time I hear about it.”
“I think I’m making it sound worse than it really is. If anything, I’m thankful for the distance it brought between me and the Vanderbilt pressure. My brother and sister have always thrived on it, so they can have it.”
“Yet, you’re still here, at law school, because your dad told you what to study.”
Levi’s mouth opens. Then closes. “Uh, about that …” His gaze drifts to the street we’re approaching, where cars line the road and music pumps from the Mundell house. There are a couple of people hanging out on the footpath, red Solo cups in hand. This is a typical Friday night on Liberty.
Levi looks in awe.
“Ain’t nothing like a Liberty party. Other than one at the football house. Of course.”
“Football house?”
“Mine and Brady’s place. Duh.”
“Duh,” he mimics. “How dare I not know that?”
“You’ve been at this school for how many weeks now and you haven’t heard of our epic parties?”
“Hey, I spent my first three weeks here trying not to run into you. I wasn’t going to ask questions about you and give away that I moved here for you.”