Riding With Brighton(8)

I cock my head back at him. “I don’t fuck with people.” I open the door and am met with loud noises like always. “You want to meet the family?”

“Um… sure?”

“Good, ’cause you don’t really have a choice. I can’t get you to my room without walking past them.”

We head out of the entry and my little sister, Paisley, spots us and comes running. She jumps into my arms, and I hoist her up on my hip. “Who are you?” she asks Jay, and I smile like I almost always do when I’m around her. She’s a little spitfire and always says what’s on her mind.

“Jay,” he says, smiling down at her. “Who are you?”

She doesn’t answer. “I’ve never seen you. Are you Brighty’s boyfriend?”

“Huh.” Jay stutters something between a laugh and a sound of disbelief. “Ah… no. I’m just Brighty’s friend.” He cocks an eyebrow at Paisley’s nickname for me.

“Do you want to draw with me?” she asks him.

I set her down and tell her, “Sorry, kid, we don’t got time for coloring.”

She shrugs at us before going back to the paper and colored pencils she has spread out on the carpet in the living room.

“Brighton, is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Get in here. I need you to taste this.”

“Ugh,” I moan as I head toward the kitchen. “Please, Mom… no.” She’s been trying to turn into a cook for her entire adult life, and she still hasn’t gotten the hang of it.

As Jay and I walk into the kitchen, my dad screws up his face at us, letting me know it’s not good. Thank God for him and his mad cooking skills or we’d be living off raw produce.

“Oh, great”—Mom looks up from the bowl she’s perched over—“another mouth full of taste buds.”

“Mom, no. You can’t subject a total stranger to….” I look down at her bowl of orange mush. “What the hell is that?”

She holds the spoon up to my mouth. “It’s mashed pumpkin curry.” I back away as she hunts me down with her spoon.

“Jesus, even in capable hands that would be dog shit… no.” I swat her hand away.

“You’re eating it,” she says with a mischievous grin, practically hoisting her petite body on mine, trying to force it in my mouth. “Max, tell him how good it is.”

“I thought we agreed we don’t lie to the kids anymore.”

She backs off me and turns to him. “Really? Are you saying you don’t like my mashed pumpkin curry, because I believe the words that came out of your mouth were ‘mmm, that’s pretty good.’”

She’s on top of him now where he’s sitting at the table. “Baby…,” he says, laughing while trying to fend her off. “You know I can’t say mean things to you. I’m not capable of hurting your feelings.”

She pauses right before the spoon enters his mouth and leans down to kiss him instead.

“Okay… awesome,” I say, turning away from the spectacle and grabbing Jay, who’s staring at them with amusement. “Come on.”

“You got an interesting family,” he tells me when I have us safely down the stairs and in my room.

I snicker at that understatement. “And you didn’t even get to meet Cooper.”

“Is that your brother?” He seems only vaguely interested. He’s wandered over to my “Wall of Wonders,” as my dad calls it.

“Yeah. He’s twelve… obsessed with girls, lifts weights, thinks he’s Rico Suave. It’s entertaining.”

“Huh.” He’s totally not paying attention. He grabs a comic off the shelf and flips through it. “God, I haven’t read one of these since I was ten. You must have hundreds of them.”

“I was gung ho for a few years. I started a dog-walking business when I was nine just so I could afford my obsession. Almost all my childhood crushes were on comic book characters. But Jason Todd… seriously in love.”

Jay’s eyes flash to mine, and his face looks a little shocked.

“What?” I ask.

He puts the comic back and shakes his head. “You don’t talk about any of that in class, besides the occasional Bic reference. I mean, you obviously don’t hide it. You wear all those shirts, and the fact that you’re gay is no secret. But, I don’t know, I guess it just takes a minute to get used to the fact that it’s all just out there. You’re not trying to hide anything or spare my homophobic feelings.”

I smile at the pissed-off way he says “homophobic.” I seriously offended him with that one. Because he’s gay? Or he really just wants to be perceived as open-minded, so much so that he would make a point to come hang out with me? “Why would I hide it?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Wasn’t it hard, telling your parents… telling your friends… being okay with everyone at school knowing?”

Again, I’m trying to figure out if he’s just trying to get to know his new friend or if he’s wondering about his own future. I walk to my bed and sit down against the headboard. “I guess I’m lucky. It’s never been a thing in my life. It’s just who I’ve always been, and my parents have never questioned that. I mean, yeah, it was kind of a shock when I eventually realized that I was pretty much the only kid in my world who liked boys instead of girls. But I’ve been gay since day one so people just deal, you know.”