The Truth About Keeping Secrets(50)

‘Yeah. I mean, yeah, it is.’ I shifted.

‘I’m, uh –’ Leo cleared his throat almost comically loudly. ‘Sorry. Are you gay?’

‘Yeah’

‘Me too. I’m. Yeah. Gay. Also. Sorry. Still getting used to that.’

‘I know.’

‘Come on, man. Don’t give me that “I could tell” shit.’

‘No, I honestly wouldn’t have known. But I – I looked you up. I mean. You could’ve been bi, or whatever, but –’

‘You looked me up?’

‘Yeah. Sorry. I was just curious.’ I bit my lip. ‘Galileo.’

He couldn’t believe it at first, mouth open, but then he broke into a smile, bit his lip. ‘Unbelievable. What is this? Are you blackmailing me?’

I shrugged. ‘You have it as your Facebook name.’

‘Because I haven’t gone on Facebook since – man. Not for a while. My – ugh. My dad’s a freaking physicist. And I don’t go by that any more.’

‘Why? It’s cool. But, uh, shouldn’t it be Lay-O?’

‘I’ve reached my question limit. Sorry. No more answers today.’ But he was smirking. And he offered to swap numbers – ‘just in case you miss a group and need a picture of a handout, or something.’

When I left with Mom, I felt full up, ecstatic to have met someone who so easily mirrored my frequency.





Chapter 12


Four months since.

Me and June had gotten to school early, and I didn’t really feel like talking to Olivia, so I headed to Mr Carlisle’s room before the seven-thirty bell rang.

Bea found me there. ‘Hey. I figured I should talk to you in person, after … you know.’

I wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation. Bea was innocent, which was all well and good except that it meant more important things were at stake and I’d taken the liberty of purging her from my waking thoughts completely. ‘Really. It’s fine. I think we were both a little out of it.’

‘Well, I was then, but I’m not now. And I’m sorry. And I want you to know that I’ve done a lot of growing up! And I’m sorry if it seemed like I was angry at you. I was angry at myself. I should have spoken to you when it happened.’

I knew by ‘it’ she wasn’t talking about the party; she was talking about freshman year, leaving me to be a target, ditching me completely while the world fell around me when it could have fallen around both of us. I hated to admit it, but somewhere in me there was still a softness for her. Little jagged pieces of myself floated away. ‘It’s OK,’ I said, and for the first time, I maybe meant it. ‘That’s all I wanted, really.’

Leo texted me during first period while we were watching Blade Runner.

Him: hey. this is leo. can you send me that picture the freak took of you?

Me: Lol the freak. Yeah can do. Why?

Him: metadata, etc. there might be some clues. facetime after school?

Me: Cool Sherlock

The thought that this could be a lead kept me optimistic for most of the day. ‘You seem happy,’ June said on the way home.

‘I, uh, sort of am. Long story but I met this guy at the support group, and – you know those messages I told you about? We’re gonna try and figure out who’s sending them.’

‘Oh.’

‘You don’t seem all that excited.’

June slammed on the brakes; she’d almost run a red light.

‘Whoa,’ I said.

‘Sorry. God. I’m so out of it today. Just … be careful. Please. That stuff seemed kind of … I don’t know. Serious.’

I FaceTimed Leo around five.

He said a sort of formal hello, lifting a hand to wave and puffing out his lips.

‘Hey. Is now OK?’

‘Now is perfect. So, I had a little look and I did find something, but don’t get your hopes up because it’s not that much.’

My stomach dropped. Not really a huge drop. My stomach stumbled. My stomach didn’t realize it had reached the bottom stair and tripped. ‘OK. Lay it on me.’

‘So, the picture was taken on an iPhone. And sometimes with iPhones there’ll be a name attached to it, like, “Leo’s iPhone” or whatever – no such luck, but looks like it was definitely taken on an iPhone 4, which I thought was notable for its … obsoletion. Is that a word? Obsolete-ness. Basically I don’t think that many people have them. Does that mean anything to you?’

I thought for a second. I assumed the folders in Dad’s office wouldn’t specify patients’ technological leanings. ‘Yeah. OK.’ I tried to cycle through images of the party anyway, only it was impossible to actually get anything to materialize; all the memories were blurry and too fast. It wasn’t unlikely someone had that phone. More than one person. Even June did.

‘No bells ringing?’

‘Not really. I’ll … I’ll keep an eye out, though. Let you know if I remember anything.’

‘Cool. Sorry if that’s not all that helpful.’

‘No, it is. I mean, that’s the only bit of information we have at all right now. Anything’s better than nothing.’

‘Man. We live in a world where someone’s outdated phone is a clue. Technology, man. Gonna write a slam poem about that. Hey, I don’t know if I’m out of line for asking – who’s the girl you’re with? A friend?’