Fan Art
Page 23
“So didn’t turn out like I planned,” he says. “I wanted to see what it’d be like to be a couple. Where no one knew us. Where no one assumed we were straight.”
I nod.
“I thought it’d be amazing.” His voice is a whisper. “I thought I’d have the cojones to come out.”
“But I was a complete and utter asshole?” I ask.
“Something like that,” Mason agrees.
“Sorry,” I say. “It would’ve been epic—if I hadn’t screwed it up.”
“I think we both did a little screwing up,” he says, and treats me to a smile.
“Maybe,” I agree. “I was going to come out to you, too—but I thought it might make the ride home a little uncomfortable.”
“Or the night a little more interesting?”
My face flushes warm at the thought. “You’re the one who climbed into bed with me!”
“Earth to Jamie,” he says, teasing me.
“I didn’t know. I mean, you were kissing Bahti at prom.”
“Just for practice, so I wouldn’t screw up my first real kiss,” he says, fueling my blush. “So how was it?”
“Flippin’ awesome,” I say. “Except maybe for the audience.”
Mason chuckles and shakes his head. “Kinda like your favorite comic.”
“Kinda,” I agree, thinking back to our look-alikes, Tony and Justin.
Mason leans forward and, with his lips brushing mine, he whispers, “I thought it had plenty of plot.”
I don’t so much hear him as feel his lips move, sending a current of desire down my spine. “Me too,” I mumble as I kiss him. Someone turns up the stereo and Maroon 5 blasts from the speakers. People start dancing on the deck. With the music making it impossible for someone to overhear our conversation, I ask. “When did you know you were gay?”
“Dunno.” Mason takes a swig of beer. “At first I thought I was just late to the party. You know, like when Brodie was kissing girls in sixth grade, I wasn’t interested. I thought I would be, eventually. Turns out I wanted to be invited to an entirely different party.”
“So you said you didn’t want to date in high school.”
“I should have said I didn’t want to come out in high school.”
“I didn’t either,” I whisper.
“And you so blew it!”
“Seriously, did everyone know?”
“And then, when you said, ‘I love you, man’ to me in government, I wanted to climb over my desk. Kiss you right there. In front of Mr. Purdy and the whole effin’ class!”
That grin tugs at my lips again.
“But you looked like you were about to die.” His eyes melt into molasses, his lips slack with empathy.
My smile fades. “I was.”
He reaches for me, wraps his fingers of his left hand across the back of my neck, and tilts my forehead down to meet his. We stay like that. Hunched over with our foreheads touching.
I try to say something. Anything. But my head is swimming with the memory, and the back of my neck is hotter than day-old sunburn.
Mason shushes me, his eyes all dark and deep behind his glasses. “I love you, man,” he whispers.
I stare at him, at his face an inch from mine.
He missed a hair when he shaved, half an inch from the corner of his mouth. One lens of his glasses is speckled with hard water spots, and he smells like beer tastes. But somehow, he’s perfect. My every daydream come true.
“I love you, too,” I tell him, and let the music surround us as we fall silent, as if to let the moment soak into our skin.
When the song changes, I ask, “So you knew about me?”
“Um, yeah,” Mason says.
“When?”
“When did I figure out you were gay or when did I notice you had a crush on me?”
My face warms. “The first one,” I say, still too embarrassed to admit to the second.
“I dunno, maybe sophomore year—you so didn’t like girls. They made you squirm.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” I ask.
“God,” he says. “I wanted to. But you never seemed ready.”
“I tried to tell you, but I always chickened out. I didn’t want anything to change between us—didn’t want you to think of me differently after I came out.”
“You meant different bad?” he asks. “Because, well, I think everything just changed.”
“It did, didn’t it?”
“In a good way. I hope.”
“Different but good. Really good,” I agree. “Except, um, your dad. He looked upset.”
“He’s a piece of work.”
“What did he say?”
“More like what didn’t he say? Mom had this nice dinner planned—and he just wouldn’t shut up. Ruined Mom’s dinner.”
“Sucks,” I say.
“He’s why I didn’t want to come out in high school. I was afraid he’d kick me out.” Mason puts his beer down in the grass and peers into the cup.
“Did he?” I ask.
“Pretty much,” Mason says with a shrug.
“You don’t care?” I ask, shocked. I’d be freaking out if I were about to be homeless.
“I care. But, at the same time, I’ve always thought it’d happen. I’ve got my scholarships, financial aid, that job with Sal.” He ticks off the pieces of his plan on his fingers. “I was gonna leave in August anyway.”
I see it now, all the calculations, the notes in French in his day planner, all the parts. But there’s a missing piece. It’s the end of May, not August. “But it’s not August yet.”
“Londa’s moving in with some friends from school. Said I could crash on their couch—if I bought them a couch.” He laughs.
I try to smile, but I must look worried, because Mason takes my hand. “And tonight?” I ask.
“Your mom said I could stay at your place. I mean, if it’s okay with you.”
I feel a smile spread across my face as if to reveal every crazy amazing thought that runs through my brain.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Mason says with a grin of his own.
I want to laugh at this, but I need to know that even if he’s kicked out of his house, he’ll be all right, because I might not be able to stand it if he isn’t. Especially if it’s all my fault. “And after that? You’ll stay with Londa? And in August you’ll come to college with me?”
Mason looks me in the eye. “I’ll be okay, Jamie, as long as I have you.”
I hold his gaze until he’s too close to focus. My nose brushes his and our lips meet in what feels like—not slow motion—but every moment in my life and the lack of time all together.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by John Rogers
SARAH TREGAY is the author of Love and Leftovers, an ALA Best Fiction for Young Adults selection in 2013, and a graphic designer. She lives in Idaho. You can visit her online at www.sarahtregay.com.
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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
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ALSO BY SARAH TREGAY
Love and Leftovers
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
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COPYRIGHT
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
FAN ART. Text copyright © 2014 by Sarah Tregay. Illustrations copyright © by Melissa DeJesus. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part
of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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ISBN 978-0-06-224315-7
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EPub Edition October 2013 ISBN 9780062243157
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