Page 91 of Josh’s Play

A few hours later, Devon and I were college graduates. I snuck back to the dorm for a power nap and found a series of texts from Cam.

The first had come in around the time my mother was slapping me on the head.

Finn: Congratulations, college graduate!

Cam’s text was followed by a number of images of graduation hats and fireworks and flashing congratulations signs.

I dozed off before I could respond, but I woke up a while later to another text from Cam.

Finn: I think you’re right, babe. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for some time. I’m finishing up my recording now before the party. I’ll see you there.

I hadn’t sent Cam any response to his congratulations texts, so I wasn’t sure what I was right about, but I lay there trying to figure it out, and as I faded back to sleep, I remembered why I hadn’t slept the night before to begin with.

I shot up in bed and I pulled up my emails. My drunken ramblings, which I’d titled “Season in the Spotlight Episode Seven,” had been too big of a file to send via text.

I pulled it up and listened to my slurred confessions of love. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. It was sappy and would end up on the cutting-room floor of any self-respecting romcom, but it was all true and heartfelt, and I was glad I’d said it. Although it was really the kind of shit a boyfriend should say in person. I would apologize to Cam that afternoon at the same time I was apologizing for introducing him to the rest of my family all at once. It was not going to be an easy afternoon for my reserved boyfriend. I rolled over, still hoping for a little rest as Drunk Josh continued:

And I know we’re going to end up together. At least I hope so. And it will be all right, really it will. I just won’t be able to look at you, ever. [A clapping sound is heard on the recording.] There! Done! Easy!

And you can’t look at me, or run your fingers through your hair, or fly along the ice like you were born on it, or do that fucking adorable dance you do in front of the goal before the game starts. And you can’t smile your sweet smile. Not at me, or your teammates, or some adoring eleven-year-old fan who wants your autograph. Scowl, Cam. You have to scowl all the time. Because your smile? It will bust the fucking closet door wide open. And fucking rainbow flags and disco music will just … just follow us wherever we go, and we’ll magically be wearing “Josh’s future husband” and “Cam’s future husband” T-shirts, and EVERYONE WILL KNOW.

Drunk Josh was silent for a few beats.

I wish everyone could know.

That’s it, Cam. I just wanted to congratulate you on your season in the spotlight and your future and our future. It’s gonna shine so bright.

I sat up straight at that yelling part because before I even heard it on the recording, I all of a sudden remembered my drunk ass saying the words I wish everyone could know.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fucking drunken honesty. And what did Cam mean, he thought I was right?

I tried to call, but it went straight to voicemail. Meanwhile, my mother, Devon, and my sister were all texting, wanting to know why the guest of honor wasn’t at his own graduation party.

I walked to my parents’ house, emerging from the forest in time to see Devon lifting a sleepy-looking Vera into his arms and heading toward the house, my brother staring at the two of them like they were an ice cream sandwich.

I tried and failed to reach Cam once more before approaching my brother.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He had the good sense to say it shyly.

“I’m happy for you, bro. Happy for both of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Really. I guess Dev and I both had our secrets this year. I’m glad we don’t anymore.”

“And you’re good? Are you really going to Buffalo with …” Jamie lowered his voice. “The fucking closeted …”

I put up my hand. “No need to whisper, James. Cam still needs to be in the closet because hockey, and I don’t actually have a job up there yet. But we are dating. I’m gonna tell the rest of the family today. Mom and Dad know, and so does his family, but we still need to keep it quiet.”

“I’m sorry about that, Josh. You’ve always been out and proud. It must be hard.”

“Don’t you dare ask me how that makes me feel, counselor. You are not at work, and you are most definitely not my therapist. It’s fine, it’s whatever. It’s what Cam needs, and that’s all that matters.”

At that moment, a smiling Campbell walked around the side of the house with his family. “Besides,” I concluded, “it’s not really difficult, is it? Not when you care about someone. Really care about them? You just want to do what makes them happy.”

Jamie gave me a look of concern.