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“See, there it is. Everyone who loves you just wants what’s best for you.”
“You don’t think that’s what your parents want too?”
“Okay, sure, but their outlook is flawed. They don’t want to look bad to all their society friends. If I ever embarrassed them, they would die.It’s about tradition, Henry,” he imitated his father. “Three generations of Albrechts have attended Roosevelt.”
“Well, damn, when you put it like that…”
He sighed. “Thanks for coming and letting me vent.”
“No problem. We all have shit to deal with.”
“You have it way more together than me, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t…”
He stayed quiet, as if waiting for me to continue. He had shared a lot with me, so why not give him something in return?
“I chew on my cuticles until they bleed. It’s a nervous tic. It’s called dermatillomania, and it’s the reason I wear Band-Aids. To not only help stop the urge in public, but to cover the damage.”
He reached for my hands and looked at my fingers. I tried to pull away, but he held steady. I hadn’t worn any coverings in a few days, which was progress for me.
“See how gross they are?” The cuticles were healing, but if you studied my hands closely enough, you could see the mutilation. “Sucking on candy helps too.” Though that was likely just a convenient excuse to ingest sugar.
“Well, thank God,” he said, huffing out a laugh.
“Huh?” Was he poking fun at me?
“You’re actually human!”
“Shut up,” I said, unable to resist the smile pulling at my lips. “What made you think I wasn’t?”
“The way I heard it, you had childhood cancer and survived. Then you went on to be a very well-adjusted human being and even got a highly desired scholarship to study dance.”
I was speechless. “That makes it sound like some Netflix special.”
“True. Maybe someday they’ll do one on you—once you’ve made it on Broadway.”
“How did you know that was something—”
“We talked about it when we were kids. You collected those playbills and likedBilly Elliotand show tune music.”
“Well, that should’ve been your first clue about my sexuality right there.”
He barked out a laugh, and it was contagious. Damn, I liked him a lot.
“See? Just being around you makes me feel better.”
“I’m glad.” I pressed my shoulder against his as we sat there in comfortable silence. Just two friends offering solace to each other. Soon enough, our fingers tangled together, like we couldn’t help touching each other or feeling connected.
“Lark, will you…?” Henry looked away.
“Just ask.” I gently elbowed him.
“Can I…kiss you again?” Henry asked in a vulnerable voice. “I just… I want to feel close to someone.”
The ache in my chest sharpened.
“Oh, to justsomeone, huh? We could get the groundskeeper up here.”
