Page 118 of Checking Out the Librarian

And texting. He had energy for texting. Snuggled into his sofa with Kitten snoozing on his heating pad six feet away, he and Connor typed and typed.

Connor

Do your parents know

Jonathan

My birthday?

Connor

No that your gay

You’re

It seemed that Connor was possibly having his own deep existential questions alone in his house, too.

Jonathan

Do they know that when their flamboyantly dramatic figure skating son exits the Luxembourg hotel room of another artistically inclined male skater at two a.m., he wasn’t watching prime time American television sports live?

Connor

Guess they know

Jonathan

They would have known earlier if my mother had been paying attention to me and actually caught me exiting those rooms, but she was drunk-boning my coach.

Connor

Oh

That sucks I’m sorry

Jonathan

She did that too. In the changing room.

Gave kiss and cry new meaning for the people that saw her

Connor

I’m really sorry

Jonathan

It was my last competition.

Connor

Was that why you uqit

That little error tethered him to this place, this time, this new life he’d chosen and built. Connor wasn’t perfect, even though he actually was, and Jonathan wanted to absorb that through his own pores like some special soul-care ingredient and get better. To do that, he had to dredge the honesty out of the pit of his stomach.

Jonathan

That’s the terrible part.