Page 34 of Wilder

“The worst kind,” Grey groaned. “Biological. Anatomical. Detailed.”

He shuddered visibly.

I smirked. “Educational.”

“Unnecessary.” He glared at me.

“You’re such a drama queen,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

Grey pointed at me, eyes narrowed. “I had to sit through a PowerPoint presentation while you were away at that stupid camp, Asher. Gage had bullet points. Do you know how scarring it is to hear your older brother say the phrase mutual attraction is natural while gesturing at a diagram of the human pelvis?”

Dexter slapped a hand over his mouth, nearly doubled over laughing before catching himself. “Okay, yeah, that sounds pretty brutal.”

“Thank you!” Grey threw his hands in the air. “Finally, someone gets it.”

I just rolled my eyes again, but honestly? Even with all his dramatics, I couldn’t argue.

Because, yeah, that PowerPoint had been a little much when I’d finally gotten sat down in front of it the day I came back home from my weekend boy scout camp.

“Anyway,” Grey said, smoothly pivoting the conversation back to Dexter. “You got any high school crushes? We could give you some advice if you haven’t made any moves yet. Trust us, we’re great at giving advice.”

Dexter’s face twisted up immediately, like the very idea of discussing this was enough to physically pain him. “I... no. Not exactly? I don’t know.”

Grey and I exchanged a look.

That was a weird answer.

“Are... you confused?” I asked carefully.

Dexter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know.”

He sounded more frustrated at himself than at us.

Then, after a moment, he huffed out a breath and straightened. “Okay, I’ll paint you a clearer picture. My mom and dad split after he cheated on her... with a man.”

Oh.

That was... a lot.

Grey and I didn’t say anything, waiting for him to go on.

“My mom was obviously really hurt by that,” Dexter continued, his voice more measured now. “She stopped me from seeing my dad for a long time. We had a pretty strained relationship growing up, and with me being raised in the church on top of all that... Sexuality and gender have always been kind of a... hard subject for me, I guess.”

His fingers twitched against his knee.

“Seeing other people explore it? I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it should bother anyone, actually.” He lifted his eyes again, his expression serious, almost resolute. “But for myself? I don’t know.”

His words trailed off, his brow knitting together like even he wasn’t sure where to go from there.

I felt bad for him.

To be only seventeen and struggling with all of that?

The weight of family tension, the confusion of trying to figure himself out, the pressure of expectations that had been ingrained in him since childhood because of religion—it was a lot.

And I certainly didn’t envy him.

I remembered being in high school and feeling like my world was so damn small. Like everything inside those walls—the friendships, the rivalries, the whispered rumors, the expectations—was both the beginning and the end of the world.