Page 33 of The Way We Swing

“Try the top shelf above the dishwasher,” I said. He stood on his toes to open the door. With his arms extended, his shirt lifted, exposing the skin right above the waistband of his shorts. My eyes wandered, lingering on his butt for longer than they should have.

He grabbed the sauce and headed back to the stove. I figured this was as good a time as any to ask the question.

“So, are we going to talk about Saturday?” I asked, heart in my throat. “Or is this just another thing we pretend never happened?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Easton whispered. “It just…happened. I’m not going to do it again.” He was keeping his face away from me, so I couldn’t get any type of read on him.

I steadied myself. If I could kiss him, I could talk about my feelings with him. “What if I wanted it to be more?” My voice wasn’t much more than a whisper now, and it cracked halfway through my question. My entire life, I’d avoided letting anyone know I was gay. But I needed to make sure he knew. What if he wanted this as much as I did?

The question hung in the air; Easton didn’t answer right away. He stirred the spaghetti noodles, making sure they didn’t stick. Steam rose from the pot, and it filled the air with a familiar aroma.

“I’m not gay, Tanner.”

“Why would you kiss me, then? How can you say you aren’t gay?” This time, my voice was much louder. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but I needed to know.

“I’m just not.” He still wouldn’t look at me.

“Well, I think I am,” I said. Fuck it. At least now he knew beyond any doubt. I'd put it out in the open, and I was unable to take it back. The tiniest bit of relief tried to consume me, but the half a second I spent waiting for his response overwhelmed every emotion.

“I think you are, too, Tan. That’s fine. I’m just not into guys.” Easton had turned around, and he finally made eye contact with me. Was that pain I saw? Or was it empathy? Both? Neither?

The rush I got from telling somebody—telling him—vanished as quickly as it’d come. I had been half expecting streamers to drop from the sky when I finally said it, but the only thing I got was a dismissal from Easton.

Without meeting his eyes, I walked out of the kitchen. My mind ping-ponged between ideas. I didn’t think I was mad at Easton or anything. We had made out, and Eastonhad seemed to enjoy it. I had convinced myself that he felt the same way I did.

Was I lying to myself by thinking that? I mean, in theory, he could have just been horny. If that was the case, then I had just outed myself to one of my best friends.

The scariest part wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way. It was that he knew I was gay. And I thought that would be enough to make him disappear.

But he was still here and acting normal. So, I needed to figure out what to do. I decided my only option, if I wanted to stay friends with Easton, was to follow his lead and act like nothing had happened.

I wished it was that easy for me. Easton had stolen my heart so quickly, and I had gotten a glimpse of what it was like to be with him, and now I wanted him even more than I had a month ago. At least then I’d thought there was a chance.

Now, he was saying it was a mistake that should never have happened. Again. I’d almost rather have still lived in the delusion that I had a shot with him than have hooked up with him just for him to tell me there was no chance of us having a future together.

I was still lost in thought when Easton made his way into the living room. At some point, I had lain down on the couch. I glanced up when I heard him coming in and saw two bowls in his hands, the smell trying to make its way to my nose.

“I’m sorry, Tan,” he said. “I enjoyed it and everything, I’m just not like that. My dad would kill me if I was.”

Fuck his dad. What could he conceivably do to Easton from jail?

I took a bite of the spaghetti and chewed slowly, feeling the heat of the sauce on my tongue.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he said.

“I’m not. Just trying to think is all,” I said. Silence hung in the room—a sound I was getting too familiar with.

If I didn’t have the feel of a bat in my hands soon, I was going to break. If I had any chance of making this not weird for Easton, I had to pretend I wasn’t shattered into pieces. I had to act like I had before we’d kissed.

“Want to go hit now? I hate not getting in swings during the day.”

“Why else would I have come over?”

I almost said “to make out,” but I figured he wouldn’t find it as funny as I did. So, after we ate, I led the way to the cage. I had to try to move on.

The following Friday, Easton and I were alone in the basement again. We had watched Zach and his football team lose a nail-biter, and he had passed out almost as soon as we had gotten home from the game. Gavin was recovering from a cold, which left the two of us alone.

I was on the couch, a blanket barely covering my legs. Easton lay on the floor next to me, his face less than three feet away from mine. The TV was on in the background, but I couldn’t tell you the score of the game that played.