“Exactly. Not cool.”
He stops, and I know it’s because people are passing us in the hall. People who could hear.
When it’s safe, he goes on. “I saw you talking to Quinn this morning. That was a bit of a surprise.”
“It was nothing. He’s Katie’s ex.”
“Well, I’m sure he told you about his poetry slam thing.” He pulls a flier out of his pocket and unfolds it. Queer Youth Speak Out, it says at the top. “Not very subtle. They even printed it out on pink paper, just in case you didn’t pick up on the fact that it was gay.” He holds it to his nose and inhales. “Mmm … smells like Whitman.”
“Are you going?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Are you going to read?” I ask, even though I know the answer’s going to be no. Ryan’s gay poems live in a very private place.
“Maybe.”
Oh. “Maybe?”
“What may be, may be.” He smiles. “You’ll just have to show up and see.”
What is he telling me? I don’t know what he’s telling me.
“Taylor will be there, and I think some of his friends are going to be there. You should join us. If I go through with it, I want my cheering section to be bigger than Quinn’s.”
I want to be in control. I don’t want him to see what I’m really feeling. But my walls aren’t that high when it comes to him. The truth flies right over.
“Well, if Taylor’s going to be there, you don’t really need me, do you?” I spit out.
And Ryan’s walls must be low, too, because he grabs my arm, right there in the hall, right where anyone could turn the corner and see.
“I’m only going to say this to you once, okay? I like Taylor. I’m excited about Taylor. I may want to date Taylor, if everything goes well. But I have known Taylor for a total of about five seconds, while I have known you since the mountains were made and the rivers were formed. I know we’re in a weird place right now, but I want you to step out of it and be there for me. Taylor is a boy, and you are my best friend. Taylor is a date, and you are my calendar. Understood?”
I know I should say I understand. I know I should understand. But there’s still a part of me that hates how easy it is for him to say these things. He wants to put it in perspective, but it’s all his perspective.
Also, I don’t want to be a best friend if I can’t also be a boy in his eyes. I don’t want to be a calendar if I’ll never get a date.
“Are you really going to read?” I ask him. “In public?”
He smiles. “You can be such an Oblivious Oliver. Like I said, you’ll just have to show up and see. Maybe you’re not the only one who can dance on the bar—so to speak.”
He’s got me, and he knows enough to leave before he loses me. The result is a locker-side muddle. I don’t have any desire to follow him into lunch, so I detour to the library again. I see Dave Hughes sitting at his table by himself. He spots me coming and clears a space.
“Are you always here at lunch?” I ask after I sit down.
“Nah. This is actually my study hall. I have third lunch.”
“Got it.”
I see he’s got the sports section on the table, and he nods that I can take it. Then he goes back to whatever he’s doing on his laptop.
About five minutes later, I hear something that sounds like a Pssst. I ignore it, but it happens again. I look up.
“Pssst.”
Dave’s eyes don’t leave his laptop, but he tells me, “It’s coming from a girl in the shelves over there.”
All I can see is a hand, its index finger indexing me to come over.
I don’t recognize the hand, but when I step into the shelf area, I recognize the face of Katie’s friend June.
“We never talked, we never saw each other, this never happened, okay?” she starts.
“Sure.”
“If Lehna catches me, it’ll be bad. She’s like that. But I’m not taking sides. I’m really not. I don’t want there to be sides, you know? It’s not like anyone asked me—it’s not like anyone said, ‘Hey, do you mind if we divide into sides?’ Because you know what sucks? Having friends who aren’t being good friends to each other. That really sucks. And I know I should be talking to Kate, but if I talk to Kate, that will be taking sides, so I’m going to talk to you instead, and if you end up talking to Kate, that’s not really my fault, is it?”