Riding With Brighton(40)

I really don’t even care that his friends busted us. I mean, the whole covered-in-my-come thing was awkward, but other than that, it almost felt good to be seen with him. To know I was okay with it. And that someone knew, at least in some way, Brighton belongs to me.

I pull the shirt Brighton gave me on, and only when I look in the mirror do I realize it says Equality Rocks. I’ve seen him in this shirt before, so I know the back has a mash-up of musical instruments on it. I smile at the image of myself.

If he had given me this shirt this morning, I probably would have imagined the entire baseball team seeing me in it, had a mini panic attack, then handed it back to him telling him I didn’t look good in black or something equally stupid. How ridiculous is that? I mean, it’s equality for Christ’s sakes. But now… I’m okay with it. In fact, it’s making me smile. Even if he had given me his “I think he’s gay” shirt with the arrow that points up, I think I would still be smiling. I mean, I don’t know if I could pull that shit off at school like he does, but I’m okay.

I’m becoming okay with who I am.

I run my fingers through my hair and head out of the bathroom. The family room’s empty, so I head to Brighton’s room and all eyes are instantly on me. But I can’t seem to look at anyone but Brighton who’s at the Wall of Wonders, looking through his music with Nico.

“Oh shit,” he says, laughing. “I didn’t mean to force you into the gay rights movement. That wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow.”

I shrug at him. “I was kind of hoping for the ‘Gay, Yay!’ one, but equality’s cool.”

The guys laugh, but I can feel Molly’s icy gaze all over me. All of Brighton’s friends are generally super cool, but not her. She works damn hard to make sure she’s anything but cool. She hates me based solely on the fact that I’m popular. I used to try talking to her last year when she sat next to me in English but gave up pretty quickly when she started insisting that I was literally the devil.

“You know Nico, Shaw, and Molly?” Brighton asks.

“Yeah. Molly and I became pretty close last year in English class.”

“Seriously?” Nico asks me.

“Hell no.” I laugh and then smile at her. “I tried, but apparently she thinks I’m the devil himself, so I guess I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be friends with the devil either.”

Again, the guys laugh, but she just gives me one of her sneers. I ignore it and go kick back on Brighton’s bed with her and Shaw. I pretend not to notice when she practically lays her body on him just to get away from me.

Brighton puts a CD in and then jumps in the middle of his bed, Superman style, between me and Molly. He lies there on his stomach, resting a hand on my leg. I run my fingers through his hair and smile down at him as he stares at me. Some trippy, melodic, instrumental, humming sounds start up and I feel my eyebrows pinch together. Brighton rolls his eyes and says, “Nico. He stays true to his Japanese roots even though his parents are the whitest white folks you’ll ever meet. Did you know his real name is Nicholas? He overcompensates—he doesn’t actually like this shit.”

“Shut up, Brighton. Do I need to go all judo on your ass?” Nico says.

“See?” Brighton says to me.

Nico jumps on the bed, his hand thwacking off Brighton’s head.

“Ouch, asshole.” He laughs. “That’s what I get for buying this crap for you?”

“Move over” is all he says.

“I’m comfortable,” Brighton whines.

“Come on, snuggle your boyfriend up. I need some room.”

Brighton flips on his back, resting half of his body on mine so Nico has room. He starts absently playing with my fingers but says, “Jay’s not my boyfriend. Don’t start up that rumor.”

I’m guessing he’s saying it for the reason he gave—for my sake, he doesn’t want any rumors starting. But the words still sing reejectiion in a full-bodied, operatic voice.

“Thank God. It’s bad enough being the third wheel with these two,” Nico says, obviously referring to Molly and Shaw. “You’re the only single friend I got left.”

“Hopefully that won’t be true for long,” I think, and oh shit, actually say.

“Ah hell,” Nico whines.

Brighton cranes his head to look at me but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh please,” Molly says. “Like that’s gonna happen. I mean, really, Jay Hall, you’re gonna walk through school with Brighton on your arm?”

That thought makes my body turn cold, but I try, really hard, not to show any signs that Brighton could pick up on. “Probably not. Like he said, I’m not his boyfriend.”

“But you want to be?” she asks with a disbelieving laugh.

“This isn’t a discussion you have any business being part of,” Brighton practically scolds her.

She’s staring at me and shaking her head like she’s never hated anything more and she thinks I’m the poison that Brighton is stupidly taking. And God, do I want to prove her wrong. “Just for the record, yeah, that’s what I want.” I say the words with all the conviction in the world because she’s turning me defensive and because that really is what I want. But I’m not stupid. I just said that out loud, and now if I don’t follow through, I’m gonna be the closeted asshole. And I’m scared shitless.