If This Gets Out(64)

“Yep.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah. God, yes, he knows. He asked me not to tell anyone who he was, and that’s how we became friends. And I loved him once I got to know him. But do you think you can ever know … like … what’s the word I’m looking for, Zach? What am I saying?” He stares into the distance. “Biased! Can you be unbiased when you know something like that about someone? Like, I think that when you and Angel asked me to be in the final show with you, I would’ve been all ‘No, Jon, has to come,’ even if I didn’t know who his dad was. Zachary, I would like to think that. I’d like to. But maybe I wouldn’t have. Maybe I would’ve been like, ‘Hey, Jon will find someone else to be with. He and Angel really don’t get along, so it’ll just make things awkward, blah blah.’ Who knows?”

My drunk brain tries to keep up with this. “But he grew on Angel. They’re fine now.”

He sighs. “That’s not the point.”

“What’s the matter, then?”

“What if I used him?” Ruben whispers. “What if I made sure we were friends so I could get in front of his dad to sing?”

“You didn’t. It was obvious you liked him.”

“Yeah, but I knew. And I couldn’t, like, un-know it. So this, all of this, it didn’t happen because we were good people, or because we worked harder than everyone else, or even just because we got fairy-tale lucky. It happened because my mom is ruthless, and maybe I am, too.”

I study him. “You’re not ruthless. You’re a good person.”

“Hold on, hold on. I have a point. My point is, when you kissed me, I thought you were using me. I think I told you that. Have I told you that? Whatever. I thought you were using me, like everyone uses me. Every guy ever, right? They’re always straight and experimenting, or they’re gay but they want to be a pop star. But then I thought you did it, and it was like, fuck. This has got to be karma at this point. I was an asshole with Jon, and now I have to pay for it forever. No one’s ever going to like me for me. They’re always gonna use me. So that,” he finishes, his head lolling to one side, “is why I was so upset. Mostly.”

I slip my hand under his shirt. “No offense,” I say, “but that’s stupid. You’re not getting bad karma, because you’re not a bad guy. All you did was make friends with someone after your mom gave you a shove; it happens. And even if you were cursed or whatever, I must’ve broken it, because I’m not using you for anything.” He slides his fingers up my thighs, and I tip my head back. “Although I wouldn’t mind using you for some things…”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re hot.”

He smiles sadly. “What if I’m turning into my mom, Zach?”

I pull him closer. “Listen to me. Your mom is the worst person in the world. You’re the best. You’re nothing like her.”

“Thank you.” He groans. “Wow, okay. I’m in bed with a hot guy and all I can do is talk about my mom.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“Not sure. But I think it’d be better if your shirt was off.”

I laugh, then pull it off and toss it away. I drop back down, sliding my hand back to the spot it was before, under his shirt.

“Better?” I ask.

He kisses me, his hand flat in the middle of my chest. He lies down, and I move across, so I’m on top of him, his legs over my hips. He’s still dressed, and I’m in jeans, but still.

I think I like being like this.

Ruben pauses. “Thanks for being so cool. I never thought I’d tell anyone what I just told you.”

“I’m so glad you did,” I say.

He touches my silver necklace, which is hanging down between us.

“And like, I get it, you know?” I say. “I know how horrible being used feels. I really want you to know it was never that for me, and I’m so sorry that Adonis guy treated you like that.”

“Mm-hmm. One very shitty example among, like, a million of them.”

“He was hot, though.”

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Definitely,” I say. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I was jealous.”

“You’re more my type. Plus, importantly, you’re not an asshole.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Hey, do you remember the first time you met me?”

“It’s sort of hard to forget.”

I was running late for camp, and I burst into my cabin to unload my stuff before rushing to orientation. I accidentally burst in on Ruben, who had returned to his cabin in order to get his inhaler. He shrieked and then threw a pillow at me, and told me to never do that again. He later told me he freaked out because he’d watched Friday the 13th just before coming to camp.

“What was your first impression of me?” he asks.

I think back. I can actually still picture it so clearly. Me, rushing to my cabin, and then my blood going cold when I realized I’d just burst in on a boy I’d never met. Even at my first sight of him, I knew Ruben was someone I wanted to like me.

“I remember thinking you were special,” I say. “I knew right away you were going to be a big deal at camp, you just had that vibe.”