Page 24 of Within These County Lines

My face has to be just as purple at this point.

“But hey, if you think my body looks good, I’ll take it. It’s my first compliment in ten years. Another first with you!”

I nod. “You’re welcome.”

“Can I see yours?”

“My what?”

“Your body.”

My jaw falls open. “Are you insane? Why are you here?”

He frowns. “Are you not happy to see me?”

A part of me is. I’ve never been this close to another boy’s body besides Murray’s. The other day at the pool, Xander’s lips were as plump as his chest is now. I like how he just says what he feels instead of shooting looks, giving the silent treatment, or just flat-out ignoring me, like you-know-who. His expressions are more colorful than his swim trunks.

But the other part of me is terrified. The more I see him, the more I worry that these hauntings won’t stop when I leave Penango. If Xander has nothing to do with Murray, then he has everything to do with me. And the more I run into him, the closer I get to facing what that really means.

“Let me back up,” he continues. “I should probably tell you that I’m gay too . . . or was, depending on how we’re thinking about things.”

I cross my arms. “Is that a joke?”

He pouts his lips. “If it was, it wouldn’t be a good one. Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all. I’m just . . . surprised by the chances. You’re a gay teen ghost in Penango?”

He shrugs. “Gay for sure. I’ve thought about it for over ten years and am certain at this point. I am hypothetically a ghost. But ever since you showed up on the scene, I’m questioning that hypothetical. I came here so we could get started on solving this mystery. It’ll be like queer Clue! What killed the gay kid at the queer camp with the—”

“Hold on,” I say, waving my arms in front of him. “Why didn’t you say anything the other day when you found out I was gay?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “It was on the tip of my tongue but . . . you’re the first person I’m coming out to, so I got scared and swallowed it.”

My eyes widen. “Oh no, really? My reaction sucked, then. I’m sorry. Congratulations.”

“Thank you! Another first! What is that, number three or four?”

“Why didn’t you come out in high school?”

He laughs. “Things were a little different in 2015. Someone needs a history lesson. But this isn’t the time or place. Let’s start talking about how you can bring me back to life this year.”

“Fine. But I have a lesson for you. Telling someone to take their shirt off in the woods might work on some guys, but not me.”

He laughs again. “Noted. But maybe that’s something we can work on too. It would be much better than this boring, black polo shirt you’re always wearing.” He picks at my shirt’s thick, cotton fabric.

“It’s my work uniform. I’m usually just in a white tee.”

“That’s not much better.”

He drapes his arm around my shoulder and starts walking, guiding me forward. My body tenses, but I don’t pull away.

Instead, I let him lead, knowing I can’t navigate this situation on my own any longer.

13

Xander and I sit in my truck parked in Whitley’s driveway, the engine off.

Fireflies flicker over her front yard as the sun sinks behind the mountains. He tells me how in high school, coming out never even crossed his mind. He didn’t have the words for what he was feeling. In such a small town, there were no examples to look to or adults to trust. I share my own coming out story, and how even years later with all the progress the world has made, it still didn’t feel easy.