Fuck, how could I not have seen how much he’s been hurting? That he’s not letting himself get closer to me out of fear that I’ll hurt him even more.
I never thought about how important it would be to tell him that I came out to my parents because I didn’t have that fear of it being “wrong” ingrained in me, but to him, it’s a huge deal. It’s picking him. Choosing him out loud. Not hiding him away. Making him feel like a dirty little secret.
“Did you talk to him yet?” Mom asks, coming to stand beside me.
“No, I think I need to do more than talk to him though. I think I really need to prove that I’m serious about him.”
I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do yet, but I know I need to do something big. Something that shows him I’m not afraid of a future with him. Of repeating him forever.
And until then, I think sex is off the table.
39
PORTER
Islip into the lecture hall moments before class is set to begin, sink into a seat in the front row, and pull the hoodie over my head. It’s probably too warm now to be wearing this to class, but I don’t give a fuck if it’ll help me blend in with the crowd a bit more.
This class is the first time I’ll have to see Will since the dinner with his parents last Friday, and I’m hoping to avoid any actual interaction.
Afterwards he decidednotto come over and fuck me.
Well, he said that his parents wanted to take him out for drinks and asked if we could reschedule our private celebrations, but I’m not expecting the rescheduling part to actually happen when that was almost a week ago.
Maybe seeing me interact with his parents made the whole queer thing a little too real for him. He couldn’t see a future with a guy, and instead of waiting until summer, he just decided to cut me out immediately.
I can’t be mad when I knew it was coming. Guys like him don’t pick guys like me. It’s not how the world works. But itdoesn’t mean I haven’t started mourning our “relationship” and what we could’ve been.
Sure, he’s still been texting me, little things like how he hopes I have a good shift, sending me funny memes, updates about his day or asking about mine, but the invites to spend time together and the showing up on campus where he knows I’ll be have stopped completely. There’s been no flirting or nicknames, just polite conversation I’m sure is meant to help me get over the shift in our friendship dynamics.
I’ve tried to be polite in my responses as well, but I really wish I could have ditched this class today. We’re starting the finals special occasion speeches though, so our attendance for the rest of the semester is twenty percent of our grade. Not coming would have been completely stupid. Still tempting though because seeing him today is going to hurt. I can’t take him trying to be polite to my face when I know what he looks like swallowing my cum.
My speech is next week, so today all I have to do is sit here for the next hour and ignore the blue-green eyes that I feel on me from across the room. Will’s assigned slot isn’t until two weeks from now, on the last day, so at least I have some time to mentally prepare before I have to listen to his too.
The speeches are only a few minutes long, and I successfully pay attention to the first four or five. There’s a wedding toast for a sibling, a eulogy for a beloved pet, an acceptance speech at a fake award show, and they’re interesting enough, but then there’s another wedding toast, and then another wedding toast. I’m quickly losing interest.
And regretting my plans for a wedding toast next week.
Over the next few speeches, I distract myself trying to think of a different topic that might stand out a little more, when a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Thanks so much again, Patricia, for switching your speechslot with me, and to Mrs.Fredricks for allowing the swap,” Will says, turning to our professor.
“You certainly piqued my interest, so go ahead,” she encourages.
“As I was preparing for this speech initially, I had planned to do an acceptance speech for a made-up hall of fame for the best college lacrosse players of all time,” he starts, and despite myself, I realize I’m smirking.
Damn him and his charming confidence. Was he ever actually afraid of public speaking? Or was that another excuse?
“But something happened to me recently that has me reevaluating my priorities,” he continues with an easy smile as he casually paces the front of the room. “I realized I should approach this assignment as a sort of practice round for something I would actually like to happen one day, rather than wasting time on a daydream. So I thought about what I hope will be the most important speech I ever give—a proposal.”
I scoff quietly at the thought of Mr.No Relationships ever getting married. Maybe the dinner with me and his parents freaked him out even more than I’d realized, and now he’s rethinking having a girlfriend so that no one can question his sexuality.
Still a fucking cliché.
“In order for this to feel as authentic as possible, I’ve asked Porter to act as my partner, who I’m proposing to. Thanks for sitting right up front,” Will adds, then he winks at me.
What the actual fuck? I definitely didn’t agree to anything. My brain short-circuits for a very long moment, and I can’t even begin to comprehend what he just said. He’s… proposing to me?
Why the fuck would he do that? Everyone in this class is going to talk. Ask questions about our friendship and if Will is gay.
