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“I know that,” he replies. “Isaac was my first taste of love, but we were just kids.”
“How did I not know this?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I thought you and Isaac were just friends.”
“That’s what everyone thought,” he replies, buttoning it up.
“Even Caleb?”
That makes Dean pause. “He knew.” He won’t meet my gaze, and something unsettling burrows its way into my stomach. I want to ask what he meant by that, or if there’s more to this story I don’t understand, but I decide not to.
Right now, I just want to focus on the beautiful man in front of me and the possibilities this evening could bring.
Thirty-Three
Dean
14 years old
“Hey, kid,” my dad says as he stomps his feet on the mat by the door.
“Hey,” I mutter in reply, not looking away from the video game on the screen.
“Thought you were staying at your friend’s tonight.”
I shrug. “Nah.”
He pauses on his way to the kitchen as if he’s waiting for me to expand on that topic, but I don’t.
The truth is that I feel less welcome at Isaac’s house now that his brother knows about us. He used to take us places, and for a moment, it felt like Isaac and I had some freedom. We’d go to the movies or the mall or out to eat, but now Caleb watches us like he’s waiting to catch us holding hands or kissing.
It bugs the shit out of me, and I’m fucking tired of it.
I thought he was going to be cool about Isaac and me, but clearly, I was wrong. And now it’s getting to Isaac’s head, too. I’m afraid he’s going to break up with me.
Well, fuck that. I’ll break up with him first.
My dad cracks open a beer from the fridge and slips off his boots before dropping into the recliner and putting his feet up.
“You two didn’t break up, did you?” he asks.
My hands freeze, and blood rushes to my face. Glancing sideways at my dad, I try to remain cool as I reply, “What? Who?”
“You and that boy.”
I have to force myself to swallow. “What do you mean break up? He’s just my friend.”
“Oh,” my dad replies casually. “My mistake.”
I turn my head toward him with my brows pinched together. I want to tell him I’m not technically gay, but my dad is old, and I don’t know if he understands the difference. It feels like too much of a conversation, and I don’t know where the fuck to start.
Instead, I just mumble, “We didn’t break up.”
He nods knowingly. “Good.”
What the fuck is happening? Did I just come out? Does my dad even know what bisexual means? Should I tell him?
I’m so confused.
My dad was born and raised in Texas. It’s not that I was afraid he was going to kick me out or anything; I just never expected him to be this nonchalant about it.
