“That’s what you’resaying.”
“What does that mean?”
Ryan crosses his thick arms, and there’s something on his face that I don’t like. That looks like there’s no talking him out of whatever conclusion he’s come to. “It means you’re always together. He wrote you a song. You haven’t dated a single girl since you moved in there.”
He shrugs, like he’s not accusing me of being gay at the fuckinggym. “People notice that sort of thing around here.”
“People need to mind their own business,” I challenge, clenching my fists until it hurts.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” he says, holding up his hands. “I’m just telling you what I’m hearing.”
“And what is it that you’re hearing?”
He holds my gaze. “That you’re screwing him.”
The words are a wrecking ball between us, threatening to destroy everything I’ve built here. I look around to make sure no one is listening. One lady turns her head when I make eye contact with her, but other than that, I think I’m in the clear.
“That’s not true,” I say.
“Okay.”
“It’s not.”
“I said okay.” But the way he says it doesn’t sound okay. Like whatever I say is beside the point.
“I don’t know why people have nothing better to talk about,” I mutter, looking away because I’m starting to feel ambushed and I’m really regretting leaving Mike right now.
“Small campus,” Ryan says. “And you know Pierce has a reputation.”
“None of that is—”
“I just think,” he interrupts whatever defense I was about to come up with. “That you should be careful about who you’re spending your time with. Pierce isn’t good for you.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know what people say about him.”
“Right. What people say.” I can hear the edge in my own voice, but I can’t soften it. “And you’ve decided the opinion of strangers is more accurate than anything I could tell you about him from actually knowing him.”
“Because it’s true.” His expression shifts to something resembling empathy. “Look, you’ve been through a lot. After what happened with Jason—” Everything in me goes still, but Ryan doesn’t notice. “I figured the last thing you’d want is to be around people like that.”
The words hit me somewhere in my soul.
People like that.
He means gay. Or bi. Or whatever category he’s filed Mike into in his head, and by extension, whatever category he’s decided to file me into. He says it like it’s logical. Like, because of what happened to me, I shouldn’t want love anymore.
I was just starting to think it was okay again.
“I’m not trying to upset you,” he says, reaching over and putting a hand on my knee. “I care about you.”
I flinch at his touch, burning a hole through my sweatpants, and he must see something on my face because I can see when his concern turns real. “Alex—”
“Jason,” I say, and my voice doesn’t even crack on the name I’ve avoided for so long. “didn’t do what he did to me because he’s gay. He did it because he’s a terrible person.” I pick up my bag from the floor. “And those arenotthe same thing.”
“I wasn’t saying they were.”
I look down at him, this guy I’ve known for two years, the first friend I’ve had in a long time, and I try to tell myself I’m overreacting. That I’m scared and looking for someone to take it out on.
