Page 39 of Follows with Intent

Jadon gave him a look.

“I don’t know,” Nico said with a laugh. “I’m trying to be an active listener.”

“Not because they’re lesbians. Because they didn’t know anything about boys, and because they were already overwhelmed, and because, if I’m being honest, they’ve got—”

“Beliefs?”

Jadon smiled. “Yes. They’ve got beliefs about men. So, when I was growing up, there was a lot of talk about toxic masculinity, although they weren’t calling it that back then. A lot of conversations about how to be a human being—not ‘a man’. And I love them for that; I’m glad they worked so hard to try to teach me to be compassionate, not to buy into stereotypes about gender.”

“Not to be another tool for the patriarchy.”

“Yep, not to be another tool for the fucking patriarchy.” A wry grin crossed Jadon’s features. “But at the time, it pissed me the hell off.”

Nico burst out laughing. “What?”

“Oh God, by the time I was a teenager, I hated it. Hated them, or that’s what it felt like. Because it was hard enough going to school and being the kid from the hippie-lesbian-organic farm commune, when everybody else had a mom and dad. And then, on top of that, I wasn’t allowed to do Scouts, wasn’t allowed to go camping, wasn’t allowed to shoot guns or bows or go hunting. They were hardliners about not letting any ‘masculine energy,’ as they called it, into my life.”

“Let me guess: good little Jadon Reck did exactly what they said.”

“Hard to remember since I was stoned from 2007 to 2013.”

Nico laughed so hard he had to lie down. Somehow, his head ended up next to Jadon’s leg. Jadon laughed too, although softly. When he drew his fingers through Nico’s hair, it was like someone tightened a wire that ran from Nico’s chest down, down, down.

“They actually didn’t care so much about the grass, as they called it, but God, when they found out I’d shot a turkey. One time in my life, my mom hit me. Once. She had this leather strap, God knows why. I didn’t sit down for a week. I heard them crying about it later, and now, it’s heartbreaking. At the time, though, it made me mad.”

“Please tell me more about rebellious Jadon. Please tell me you did something wicked like pee standing up or mansplain or use gendered language. Did you call a flight attendant a stewardess?”

Jadon tugged on his hair and, the next moment, ran a soothing hand over it as he said, “Smartass.”

“Did you hear a name like Dr. Murray and automatically assume it was a man?”

“Forget it. Never mind. I decided you are a brat.”

“No, please! You have to tell me how you went from stoner turkey-killer to the pillar of law and order.”

“Oh my God.”

“Please!”

It was, admittedly, too loud and too long for the stacks, and Nico could only giggle when Jadon put a hand over his mouth.

“No more beer for you,” Jadon said. “And no more toasted ravioli. They’re making you wicked.” He gave Nico’s head a little shake for emphasis. “Two things happened. One was Robbie. And the other was college.”

“Oh my God, Robbie.”

“Yes, Robbie. He was a college student interested in organic farming, and he spent a summer doing an internship—which mostly meant smoking a lot of ‘grass’ with my moms, providing free labor, and—” Jadon cut off.

“You had sex with him?”

“A little more quietly,” Jadon half-whispered and gave Nico another of those tiny shakes. “He was gorgeous. And bi. And yes. And if you laugh when I tell you our first time was in a hayloft, I’m going to leave.”

“I’m dying. I’m dead. I’m literally so happy that my body has perished.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me everything. Was he wearing plaid? Did he have a big—” The pause lasted long enough. “—belt buckle? What kind of boots was he wearing?”

Jadon pulled his hair again.

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