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“Was it Lee?”
He doesn’t look at me when he asks, his focus intently on the game. “What about Lee?”
“Did he piss you off? Run you outta your house? NO!” he yells at the TV, then shakes his head. “Shouldn’t have thrown. He had a perfect opening, too. Anyway, so was it Lee or not?”
I cannot believe I’m sitting here in Hoyt’s bedroom watching football with him. Well, not really watching. “No.”
“Well, if it isn’t boyfriend troubles, and it isn’t Lee … then it’s gotta be your parents.” He kicks back a bit. “Do they suck?”
And I can’t believe I’m actually opening up to Hoyt Nowak. “One half of them,” I answer begrudgingly.
“Which half? Your dad?”
“Stepdad.”
“Ugh. I got one of them, too.” Hoyt huffs and shakes his head. “Real dad died when I was eight, right after my sister was born. My mom grieved by dating some rando from my dad’s funeral, and in two months—two damned months—she was remarried. To some guy she met at my dad’s funeral. He was, like, a friend from work. Isn’t that messed up?”
I didn’t actually know he had a sister. “Messed up,” I agree.
“Sorry, yeah, yeah, here I go, talking about family drama, and after I just advised doing anything except think about it.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
Hoyt tenses up at once. Then he sits up, his eyes hard as he stares me down. One might almost think he completely forgot that happened until I just reminded him. His breathing has changed, too, as if I just transported him back to that restroom.
Then at once he snorts, laughing it off. “I dunno. Just wanted to try it. Awph, fumble!” he growls at the TV, relaxing back onto his bed, closing the book on our weird forced kiss.
I flip the book right back open. “Look, I appreciate you doing whatever this is … bringing me somewhere that isn’t my home so I can reflect and not think or whatever … but my heart still belongs to Vann, and I’m not here to play a role in your sexual awakening.”
Hoyt takes one look at me, then explodes into laughter that has him rolling on his bed. “Sexual awakening??” he cries, sending himself into another fit of laughter. I just sit there on the weight bench, eyes half-lidded, and wait for his laughing to expire. “Toby, phew, that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. What are we? Thirteen? Buddy, my sexual awakening has come and gone. I’m a grown man now. What happened in that bathroom was just …” He gestures at me, unable to put a word to it for a moment. “It was just for fun. Or maybe Vann’s right and I was just messing with your head. Or maybe I’m so damned bored of the girls at school, I had to do something even I couldn’t predict comin’. So that’s that. You got nothin’ to worry about. I’m not gonna go lunging at you with my—” He cackles. “—with my tongue or—” Another cackle. “I can’t stop laughin’. Oh, Toby, phew, I’m so glad I got your ass over here finally. Why in the hell aren’t we buds yet? I told you already, you need a guy like me in your life. Not Vann.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I dryly tell him, then turn my face back to the TV and the tight, football-pant-clad asses running.
After a moment passes when Hoyt finally settles back down, a strange tension seems to build between us. Without the laughter to make light out of everything, all we’re left with is a football game neither of us are actually paying attention to … and our own thoughts. I even catch Hoyt’s eyes slightly averted, evidence of his own thoughts turning over in his complicated head.
Suddenly a girl of about ten or so charges into the bedroom. “Hoyt!” she cries out excitedly, then stops at once when she sees me, her eyes going wide. She’s a cute blonde thing with pigtails and braces that cause her lips to bulge out. “Um, who’s he?”
Hoyt turns around, then at once becomes furious. “What did I tell ya about comin’ into my room without knockin’??”
Unaffected, she props a hand on her hip. “To do it in style.”
Hoyt’s angry expression gives in to giggles, and I realize it’s all an act. “That’s right, Gemma. Now come over and meet my friend Toby here. He’s the guy from school I told you about.”
Her eyes go wide and, dropping her jaw and revealing all her braces, she stares at me. “You’re the actor??”
“Yep,” Hoyt answers for me. “He’ll be on Broadway someday. Or maybe, like, a Disney movie. You and I will go down to the movie theater one day and see him on the big screen.” His voice changes completely when he talks to her. “So you better get his autograph now before he becomes famous.”
