Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“No, I’m glad you did.” He was right; I needed to get a hold of myself.
He nodded. “To answer your question, I guess I’d prove them wrong somehow.”
“By doing what, exactly? Hooking up with a girl?”
“Well, yeah,” he replied with a laugh, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
“I wouldn’t want to use someone like that,” I said as an excuse, though it was true.
“Uh, I’m pretty sure some girls would want to use you just to say they hooked up with the quarterback. As long as both of you are upfront about it. Consenting adults and all that.”
“Yeah, I know…” But just the thought of it made my stomach bottom out.
I didn’t want to touch anyone but Lark.
Did he even feel the same about me? Likely not. What did I expect? I had to remain in the closet, and we’d made it clear it would be a casual thing. I couldn’t even be that bummed about it because he helped me know with absolute certainty that I liked guys, and I especially liked him. Which meant I was in over my head. But there was so much to appreciate about him, outside of the blowjobs and kissing. I liked hanging with him at his house and at school. He was smart and interesting and determined in a way many other students weren’t, and that probably had everything to do with his struggles. It gave him depth, and now I had to wonder what he even saw in me.
I considered telling Spencer about my sexuality and swearing him to secrecy. But wouldn’t that just make him my secret keeper? How was that fair? If the situation were reversed, I would’ve done the same because that’s what friendship was all about. Wasn’t it?
“Spence, I…I’m just starting to figure stuff out about myself.” There, I said something at least.
“Okay. It’s cool, man. You don’t need to offer an explanation—to me or anyone else. They’ll move on to gossip about something else soon enough,” he said, still seeming bummed he’d brought it up in the first place. “And don’t worry, you’re the perfect team captain, and if all goes well, you’ll be taking us to the playoffs.”
But would I be, if they knew about me and Lark? Or would we become the butt of someone’s joke?
Did it really matter that much if I had a fall from grace? Maybe that was the best thing for me. But damn, how sad was it that it would even be considered that? No, we definitely had not evolved as a society as much as we thought we had. My sexuality would matter to some people and to my parents—and they were paying my tuition, after all. Goddamn it, why did everything always feel on the line?
“Thanks, Spence,” I said, and we fist-bumped.
“Besides, you know my secrets too,” he said, referring to his major and the dispute with his parents.
I offered a sad smile.
“Two more years and we’ll be out of here and leading our own lives.”
“Can’t fucking wait,” I said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Thanks for being such a good friend.”
“Of course.”
“Hey, gonna grab some breakfast after laundry,” I said. “You coming?”
“Nah, I want to lie here a bit longer.” He slid back under his sheets.
I smiled as I went out the door, glad not to run into anyone for the remainder of the morning. It was too early for those jokers anyway.
31
LARK
It was the night of the dance recital, and I was nervous about performing in front of a live audience. Not that I hadn’t been part of plenty of productions over the years, but this seemed to weigh more. The others had been for fun and to show Mom she wasn’t wasting her hard-earned money on lessons. This was not only for a grade in tap and ballet, but about my future. Did I have what it took to do this for a living? If not, I would always be involved somehow, I’d decided, either as a teacher or behind the scenes.
The dance department dean gathered the students and professors in a large circle, which was practically impossible because there were so many of us, so I stayed just far enough back to be able to listen.
“You’ve all worked hard this semester, have practiced these routines dozens of times, and have taken the opportunities given you,” she said. “So let’s go out there and make our parents proud.”
We all cheered, then broke apart to begin lining up according to the order of the stage numbers. I was involved in four routines—two ballet and two tap—and I definitely knew the steps like the back of my hand. Still, nerves and mistakes could ruin everything.
The first lively number was performed by all the instructors. This was a Roosevelt tradition and pretty fucking cool to witness. They were all so talented, and the purposely upbeat routine with a contemporary arrangement got the audience energized. It also made me look forward to my Modern Dance class next semester.