But he barrels through it with ease. “I overheard her and Zaq talking when they were at my house yesterday,” he says quietly, the guilt from eavesdropping apparent in his voice. “She seemed upset about a fight between the two of you.”
“Frankly, I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I snap, spinning around to face him. I don’t let myself think about the fact that Talia told Zaq what happened.
“Well, Zaq suggested taking you to talk to someone from the center, so I thought maybe—”
“The center?” I ask, and he covers his mouth momentarily.
“I didn’t—uh,” he stutters before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Are you homophobic or something?”
“What?” I step back, a chill rushing over me. “I—why would you ask that?”
Wesley squirms with regret. He guides me away from the chaos of students exiting the building behind us. “I just thought, based on what she said, or I guess what I heard, maybe that she told you that … uh … that she’s not … um…”
“That she’s bisexual?” I ask, and he nods, seemingly relieved I already know and he wasn’t accidentally outing one of his closest friends. “She did tell me.”
“And then she kissed you?”
Damn it.
“We’re going to be late for chem.” I try to move past him, but he lifts one of his huge arms, stopping me dead in my tracks. I could push past him—despite his strength I know he’d let me—but I’m exhausted. So I relent.
“She should’ve asked for consent, I know,” he starts, and I cover my eyes—this is so painful. “But if you’re really this upset with her over a kiss, maybe we should talk about wh—”
“She didn’t kiss me,” I interrupt. Wesley cocks his head to the side and furrows his thick brows.
“But she mentioned an out of nowhere k—”
“I kissed her.”
“Oh” is all he says.
And that’s when the first tear falls.
* * *
After ten minutes of storytelling between embarrassing sobs, I finish catching Wesley up on everything.
We’re sitting on the ground outside the sciences building, backs pressed against the rough stucco walls. My dress is getting dirty, dimming the obnoxiously bright color. Which feels fitting, all things considered.
“Wow,” he says, and I nod because I can’t think of anything to say. “She’s mentioned Tori and Dani before, but I didn’t realize how bad things were with her aunt.”
I feel guilty for sharing what happened with Eliana, but once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. Besides, he needed all the details from Friday to understand why things ended the way they did. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
“So Talia and Zaq are really dating?” He doesn’t look up, picking at the skin around his thumb.
“That’s your second takeaway?” I ask, borderline offended as I wipe my mascara tears away. If things go on like this, I seriously need to invest in something more waterproof.
He shrinks in on himself. “Well, what do you want me to say?”
I’m taken aback by his obliviousness. “You just don’t seem very surprised.”
“About you?” he asks, and I nod. “Well, I didn’t know you weren’t straight, but for me, that’s not that surprising.”
“I never said I wasn’t straight,” I say, and he gives me an unconvinced glance I opt to ignore. “Wait, what do you mean ‘for me’?”
Wesley looks giddy but nervous. He sits up, clearing his throat, before smiling shakily at me. “Ophelia…”
“Wesley?” I reply, confused.
“I am not heterosexual.”
I laugh without meaning to, the moment too silent and serious. “What?”
“That look on your face?” He waves a finger at me with a slight smirk, and I quickly smooth my features into a neutral expression. “Is that what you wanted me to look like when you told me about kissing Talia?”
“Sorry.” A blush creeps up my face. “But you and Lindsay…”
“What about us?” he interrupts, his tone slightly sharp.
“Well, you clearly like girls.”
“Clearly.” He smiles, enjoying this more than I’d expect him to. “But you don’t have to be het for that. I’m asexual.”
“Asexual,” I repeat, and he nods proudly, beaming. “You’ve never mentioned that before.” My mind races to remember what exactly being asexual means.
“You never asked,” he replies. Anyone else would be smug right now, especially after my sob story, but Wesley’s counterpoint is genuine. I never did ask. “Did Talia ever tell you how she, Zaq, and I met?”
“Something about mutual interests?”
“I asked her not to tell you guys the full truth if you asked. Zaq too.” He takes a deep breath, looking less energized than before, returning to shaky uncertainty. “I came out to my parents as ace right before we moved here. They didn’t really know what it meant and had all these questions about grandkids and marriage or if I was somehow broken. They weren’t angry or disappointed, but they were confused. So we found a youth center nearby for LGBTQIAP+ teens and their parents.”
“And that’s where you met Zaq and Talia?” I ask, tapping my nails against the concrete ground.
“Exactly. That’s actually where we went last week when I lied about us studying. Talia and Zaq were the first people I met there, and the only other kids who went to this school, so I stuck with them. They knew about me being ace from the start, and they were never weird about it because we were all there for roughly the same reason.”
I hesitate, taking everything in. “Can I ask about Zaq?”
“Ask about … oh, you mean his sexuality?” I nod. “Zaq is openly pansexual.”
“I’ve never heard him mention that.”
“Again, you never really asked,” he says, definitely smug this time. But his expression quickly sobers. “Honestly, I asked Talia and Zaq not to tell any of you about my sexuality when they started sitting with us at lunch, which meant not talking about how we met.”
“You asked them to stay closeted for you?” I ask, and he winces. I trace a crack in the ground while I wait for his response.
“No, I would never do that,” he says, pausing to take another deep breath. “But I think they avoided bringing it up to you guys because they didn’t want to pressure me into saying anything. It’s selfish, I know, but sometimes it’s hard to be around people who are so out and proud when you’re still mostly closeted. They inspire me, especially with everything surrounding Talia’s family, but I’m still jealous of how unapologetically they live. The few old friends I told about being asexual thought I just hadn’t met the right person yet or that I had a bad experience that made me sex-repulsed.” He sighs. “It’s hard to explain to people sometimes, exhausting more than anything else. So I keep it to myself, or at least I planned to.”
“Well, at least you only like girls,” I try, searching for a positive. “That probably makes things easier for you as far as telling people.”
“First of all, it’s still rough telling people I’m ace.” He picks up a bit of loose concrete and rubs it between his fingers. “But you’re also not the only one disappointed to find out about Talia and Zaq.”
“You like Talia too?” I ask, then immediately realize my mistake. “Oh. Oh.”
He looks up from the rock and nods, a sad smile playing on his lips.