Riding With Brighton(20)
When I run out of details to distract me, I stand and go to him. When he hears me, he turns and smiles before getting back to the rock he’s throwing. I start searching for my own rock, then skip it across the water. We do this for a while and slowly my anxiety drifts away and I become comfortable standing next to him in his space.
“You feeling okay?” he asks, glancing at me while doing the one-eye-closed thing.
“Yeah, actually I am. Sorry I flipped out on you like that.”
“Flipped out on me? You didn’t flip out. You got some shit off your chest. And can you please stop saying you’re sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“Yeah, I’ll try. But can I apologize for one more thing?”
He laughs. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“I got what you were saying when I first showed up at that park—I’m not the first sexually confused kid who has sought you out. But I just want to say that I didn’t come to you because you’re the only gay person I know and I needed a soundboard, or I wanted to test the waters, or I needed someone to talk me through this.”
“Okay,” he says a little apprehensively. “Why’d you seek me out, then?”
“Because it’s not guys. It’s just you. And I needed more time with you. I wanted to be around you longer than the hour I have in history class.”
He stares at me for a few uncomfortable moments, his face giving no indication of what he thinks about what I just said to him. “What does that mean? I’m the only guy you’ve ever been attracted to?”
I clear my throat. God, it’s weird talking about this shit. Admitting it to myself, even. “In real life, yeah.”
He snickers before saying, “The Internet’s great, right?”
I laugh, partly because I didn’t have to say what I do with my spare time for him to know, and partly because he’s right—it is great. Especially this one guy’s Instagram page. “Yeah.”
“So what do you think that’s about—your attraction to me? You think it’s just because I’m the only gay guy you know?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “If all the guys I’ve ever known were gay, you’d still be the hottest and most intriguing one.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah, Brighton, I am,” I say, skipping my last rock and then turning to him, because suddenly, knowing what he thinks about me is an urgent matter that needs to be sorted out. As I stare at him, it hits me that if he tells me, “I think you’re cool, but…” I might just be completely devastated. Shit, I will be completely devastated. For sure.
He throws his last rock, brushes his hands over his jeans, then turns, and takes a step closer to me. He stares at me, and it makes me nervous as hell. Eventually, he cracks a smile and shakes his head. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He slaps me on the shoulder, then starts walking toward the Bronco.
Wha… wha… what the hell is that? What the hell does that mean?
“Brighton,” I call out after him.
He stops walking and turns to me. “Yeah?”
I don’t know what to say, so I raise my hands in a what-the-hell gesture, and I can feel my eyeballs threatening to pop out of their sockets so they can go kick his ass.
He just stares at me.
Can he not see how pissed my eyeballs are? “Can you give me something? Anything?”
He laughs. “You’re cute and sexy. I like you, Jay, but you got a girlfriend.”
Girlfriend? That’s the last word I expected to come out of his mouth. Who gives a shit if I have a girlfriend? Obviously I’m not into her like that. Right? I made that clear when I told him that I wanted him… right? No?
“Come on,” he says, turning again and walking away.
I follow him and get in his truck. I’m waiting for him to say more, but he just starts it up and pulls back onto the road.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“You ready to see The Farm?”
“Ooh, the elusive farm. You’re actually gonna take me there?”
“Yeah, if you want to come with me.”
“Of course I want to come with you.”
I half expect him to take advantage of the word that, yeah, maybe my subconscious bullied me into emphasizing, but he just glances over and smiles. My returning smile is way too big and toothy, but now that he knows, now that I don’t have to try and suppress all this shit, I can’t help but set the gums and all thirty-two teeth free.
“So, you got any more awesome guesses?” he asks.
“About what?”
“The Farm.”
I settle back into the seat, stretching my legs out as much as I can. “It seems kind of lame that it’s not an actual farm. Why would you name something The Farm if it’s not a farm? Unless… is it farm with a ph, as in pharmacy? Jesus, Brighton, please tell me you’re not taking me to a meth lab.”
He raises an amused eyebrow. “I guess you’ll find out when we get there.”
I look down the dirt road we’re traveling on that doesn’t appear to be going anywhere, and I’m legitimately afraid now that we’re going somewhere I don’t want to go. “Your dad wouldn’t send you to a meth lab. I mean, what kind of supplies would you be bringing to Abe?”