“I asked are you ready to fucking party tonight, or what?”
As if there’s another acceptable alternative. I stretch my long legs out under the way-too-small desk they make me cram myself into and nod in the cocky manner they’re all used to from me. “Of course.”
“Hell yeah.” That appeases him, and he goes back to flirting with the girl next to him.
Which only means I’m free to resume staring helplessly at Rhett. Which I know I need to stop doing. Although, maybe that would turn the rumors a different way.
Because the rumors are out there, but they’re not even close to the truth.
That I have a girlfriend in another state. That I’m dating a classmate’s mom. That I’m fucking a teacher—a female teacher.
Everything but the actual truth. A truth I’ve hidden for years. A truth that burns deep in my soul, but no one expects because I’m the all-American golden boy who has everything. The big house. The private school education. A fantastic throwing arm. Top grades. Good looks. Large, muscular body. Everything.
And I must just be a gentleman. That’s why I don’t flaunt my hookups, or no one has ever heard of me hooking up with any of the girls at school. Or I must have a lover who I keep secret.
All the rumors. Everything but the actual truth . . .
I’m gay.
FOUR
“Come on, Grayson . . .” Crystal nips at my ear, practically sitting in my lap. “You know you want to go upstairs with me.”
I really, really don’t. Not one part of me wants to go upstairs with Crystal. And it’s not that I don’t like her as a person . . . She’s actually really cool. We’ve had some pretty long conversations about music and what she wants to do in college—she wants to be a veterinarian. We’ve been in the same class since kindergarten too. Most of us grew up together, going to the same country club functions and self-indulgent “charity” events our parents often throw. So, we’ve been around each other plenty. And I like talking to her when she’s just being herself. The girl who quietly whispers her future dreams of having a small vet clinic in a small town.
But this version of her? Where she thinks she’s only tits and a piece of ass? Yeah, I hate it. I hate it for her and for me.
And I get it. I do. She’s the head cheerleader. She’s gorgeous and rules the school. And no one knows she’s smart. Because no one bothers to get to know her at all. They see her perfectly styled blonde hair and beautiful face. Perfect body and designer clothes. The brand new Jeep she got for Christmas this year. And they assume she can’t have a thought in her little head.
“Hey . . .” I put my hands on her shoulders and push her back slightly to look into her pretty blue eyes. “How drunk are you?”
Her eyes darken now as she sits back and crosses her arms. “I’m not drunk, Grayson. I like you.”
She may not be stupid drunk right now, but I can smell the alcohol on her breath. “I like you too.”
“But not enough to fuck me.”
Christ. I lean my head back against the couch, kicking myself, yet again, for coming to this stupid party. I don’t want to be here. But high school is all about appearances. And if I didn’t show up tonight, everyone would ask me why on Monday.
I don’t have the energy for it anymore. Only a few months left.
College will be different.
Right?
She drops her arms, and her eyes soften as she leans in, her pink lips far too close to mine. “Why don’t you like me like that?”
I swallow hard as her eyes examine me, and I briefly wonder if she sees it. “Crystal . . .”
She huffs, and then her eyes narrow on someone behind me. “Is it her? Kelly? That girl has fucked the entire senior class. Probably even some of the girls.”
I wince. “And that’s a problem, why?”
I don’t care for judgmental assholes, but let’s face it—that’s pretty much what high school is full of. She’s getting pissy now. “So, you are into her? Is it because she’s slutty? You want a girl with more experience? Like that teacher you’re fucking?”
Jesus fucking Christ. I stand up, beyond annoyed now, and unfortunately, she does too. Wanting answers. “Am I fucking a teacher or Kelly? Which one are you accusing me of exactly?”
She puts one hand on her hip and sways slightly, indicating she had more to drink than she’s letting on. “Either. Both. I don’t fucking know. You won’t tell me.”
I take a deep breath, trying to remain patient with her. “I’m not fucking either. I’m not fucking anyone.”
“Bullshit.” She gestures widely to my entire body. “You’re fucking someone. You don’t look like that and remain a virgin.”
“I didn’t say I’m a virgin. I said I’m not fucking anyone. Not you. Not Kelly. And certainly not a teacher.”
She bites her bottom lip angrily, and I worry for a minute she’s gonna draw blood. “Look, if you like a girl with a little more . . .” her eyes flick to Kelly, “experience . . .”
“Stop.” I have to stop this. I can’t take it anymore. “I don’t care who anyone has sex with. If it’s no one or the entire world. It’s none of my business, and it has no bearing on whether I want to have sex with them or not.”
She looks confused. “You don’t care that she’s been with the entire class?”
A frustrated groan bubbles up in my throat. Never argue with a drunk person. I know this. “I don’t believe rumors, first of all. When a guy says they’ve slept with someone . . . I don’t believe it, nor do I care if it’s true or not. And you, of all people, should be more sensitive to that and stop spreading that shit.”
She rears back defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean there are always rumors about all of us. And most of them aren’t true.” She looks hurt by that, and I’m sure she is. Plenty of guys have claimed to have slept with her, but I didn’t buy it, just like when Josh was talking about her today. And I really don’t care. “You can sleep with whoever you want, or not. But so can she. You’re supposed to be her friend.”
Tears well up in her eyes, but I don’t have it in me to feel sorry for her. I’m so over this high school bullshit. “She wants you. And she knows I like you.”
“Right. So what? You decided to tell me how slutty she was. You think that makes you look better?”
She’s back to being angry, folding her arms and glaring at me. “Fine. Fuck her all you want. I don’t care anymore, Grayson.”
She’s lying.
But again . . . I can’t bring myself to care. “Great.”
Before she can say anything else, I walk out of the living room and then the house, going out into the cool, early spring air.
I really should have brought a jacket.
But at least out here, I can breathe. I can sympathize with her to a point. People assume I’m an idiot just by looking at me and then at my football stats. They think I’m just a meathead jock with a trust fund.
That’s been my persona since junior high, maybe even before.
But that’s not me.
I mean . . . Okay, it kind of is, to a point. But the truth is, I have a tendency to get into my head a lot. I overthink everything. I’m constantly thinking about the future and what I’m going to do when I get there.
I don’t care about football or drama. I don’t really care about getting laid, although someday—yeah, I want to experience love.
But how the hell am I going to do that when I can’t find the courage to be the real me? That I don’t know.
FIVE
“Okay, I made your bed. But I don’t know, I think you should let me buy you new bedding.” I look at Blair as she stands there, staring at my bed in the tiny, dingy, studio apartment. It’s above the garage at the house belonging to a guy I know. A guy who, for now, is just known to Blair and Rhys as my friend.
My adult friend . . . But they haven’t pried too much about how we met, and for that, I’m thankful. But I know Blair . . .
“And maybe some furniture.”
I try not to get annoyed. I know she’s trying to help. She’s good like that. “Blair, I’m okay.”
She looks over at Rhys, who’s quiet, as usual. Guy doesn’t talk a lot, and I can appreciate that. “Okay . . .” She looks over the empty living room space and pulls her phone out. “I’m ordering you a couch at the very least. Consider it a housewarming present.”
Rhys nearly cracks a smile, which again—rare for him. Not that he’s an asshole or anything, but he’s just not one to smile very often. He was a foster kid once too, and he had it way worse than I did, so it’s understandable. He just shakes his head as Blair begins clicking on her phone and puts a strong hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, kid. You better just let her do it or she’s going to camp out here.”
I smile at that because I know she will. “Yeah. Okay.”
He looks around the small space. “Not bad.”