Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(6)

I shrugged off the memory. “They think I draw too much attention to myself being, well, me. By not conforming. They think it makes them look bad. So, my choices are to try to pretend I’m not who I am, or find a way not to be answerable to them. And sorry . . .” I gave him a cheeky grin, pleased that he was being so cool about it. “I just can’t help it that I’m fabulous.”

Mr. Gardner smiled and (oh Jesus, don’t look at the smile lines) gestured to the Easter-egg chalk streaks in Mo’s hair. “You know, I think the first time Morgan wanted to color her hair was . . . was it sixth grade, honey?” Mo nodded, smirking. “A really purple shade of burgundy. I can’t say Adele and I weren’t put off by the idea, and a lot of that was fear of how other people would react, whether they’d be unkind or unaccepting toward her if she deviated from the norm. But we knew we had to let her be who she was, and let her know that we loved her, no matter how she chose to express herself.”

Another time, I might have taken someone down a peg for the obliviousness of comparing something as innate and ingrained as sexual orientation and gender expression to a preteen’s hair-color whim, but damn it, Mr. Gardner was just too cute to snap at. Not to mention he was letting me spend the summer in his house pro bono, and from what I understood, he’d be here much of that time. Mo said he was taking a sabbatical from teaching to work on writing a textbook. So, better to play nice and not let the occasional moments of obtuseness get to me.

“Well, it’s good that Mo has your support.” I slipped an arm around her waist and leaned on her. “She definitely deserves it.”

Mr. Gardner sipped his wine. “It’s a shame you don’t have the same from your family. But it’s good that you respect yourself enough not to pretend to be something you’re not.”

Oh, Brendan, honey, Mo obviously hasn’t told you nearly enough about me if you think I’m anywhere near full up on self-respect.

I gave him a slightly self-deprecating smirk, and took a long drink of my zin before it got warm and bitter. “It’s more just giving in to the inevitable, I guess. I mean, honestly, I sashayed before I could walk. It is what it is, you know? Might as well own it.”

“It should be self-respect,” Mo said fiercely, giving me a shake. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

I shrugged uncomfortably, leaning my head against hers, almost forgetting Mr. Gardner’s presence as Mo and I fell into that sort of exclusionary, near-telepathic best-friends communion. She knew that I would argue that I wasn’t ashamed, but that I hadn’t quite figured out how to truly mean it when I held my head up high. My entire life, people had been telling me to keep it down and stop being an embarrassment. So, I was still in that fake-it-’til-you-make-it stage, hoping genuine pride would come if I pretended confidence long enough. For now, I was relying on bravado and a complete lack of give-a-f*ck to carry me through.

“Thanks,” I murmured, squirming out from under Mo’s arm. I met Mr. Gardner’s eyes as he sipped his wine, studying us. He looked like I didn’t quite make sense to him and he was trying to figure me out.

Yeah, well, you and me both, Brendan, I sighed mentally, draining my glass.

“So where did you live before middle school?” he asked as Mo poured me some more.

“Jeez, Dad, what’s with the Twenty Questions?” She juggled her glass, the bowl of popcorn, and the rented DVDs out into the living room. “Avengers again, Topher? I’m thinking Avengers again. ’Cause I’m really not in the mood to cry, so sorry girlfriend, but Les Mis is out.”

“That works. We’ll do sing-along night tomorrow. I’m never not in the mood to check out Jeremy Renner’s ass.”

Mr. Gardner paused in taking his own glass of wine—along with the bottle—out to the living room, ducking his head as his ears turned dark red. Okay, so apparently I’d found the point at which acceptance tipped over into discomfort for Mr. Sexy Professor.

“Sorry, Mr. Gardner,” I muttered, suppressing a smile and slipping past him.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Call me Brendan, and don’t mind me. Will I be interrupting if I watch with the two of you, or are there secret rituals taking place here to which I’m not permitted entrance?”

Shit. He had to tell me to call him Brendan, didn’t he?

I shrugged. “Fine by me. There’s plenty of eye candy to go around. Choose your fantasy fodder and help yourself.”

“Ew. Can you not talk about my dad ogling people? Scarlett Johansson may be gorgeous, but still.”

“It’ll be a challenge, but I think I can refrain from licking the screen,” Brendan deadpanned, placing the wine bottle on the coffee table next to the bowl of popcorn before settling into the chair where he’d been working on his computer earlier.

“Ew! Dad!”

I laughed so hard I had to set my wine down before flopping onto the sofa, rolling and giggling. When I caught my breath, Brendan grinned at me and dropped a conspiratorial wink.

Oh, Lord have mercy.

That was it, I decided as Mo pressed play. My new mission in life would be to find as many excuses as possible to stay away from the house all summer, before I embarrassed myself by giving away my cute little crush on my BFF’s dad.





Your kindness is foreign and strange to me