Page 5 of 4-Ever

“Can I stay over at your place this weekend?”

My question was met with silence.

But that wasn’t unusual. This was Faise I was talking to. He’d rather be playing on his drum kit than doing anything else. Including talking.

Not much had changed since we were ten.

Well, except for the surge of hormones running through our veins. Not to mention the pimples, underarm sweat that was so strong it would make you pass out, and longer hair.

Both of us hit a growth spurt this year. I was still towering over most people in my grade, including Faise. But where he was tall and lean, I was just big—big hands, big voice, big everything. And I was the first guy in our grade to have facial hair, too.

We’d just finished up our music class but we stayed on to get in extra practice. Like we did every Tuesday and Friday. Me on the guitar, and Faise on his drums. We already had it in our head that we wanted to form a band. Me and Faise had half-decent voices, but neither of us were great singers. Not that anyone would take our band idea seriously given our age. But still, when you know, you know.

Music was everything to me. It helped me forget about all the stuff I struggled with—at home and at school.

“You don’t need to ask, Ro,” Faise finally responded while he tapped out a familiar rhythm with his sticks. “Of course, you can stay over. Is your Dad visiting again?”

“Unfortunately,” I shook my head and glanced at my friend.

Faise’s brown eyes looked back at me with concern.

“The whole weekend will be nothing but my parents fighting and Dad on his phone with his new girlfriend. I don’t know why he even bothers to visit. He never wants to spend time with us. All we do is sit and watch TV together, while he eats, drinks beer, and complains about his job at the factory. He arrives as late as possible Friday night and leaves first thing Sunday morning. And he doesn’t even care to ask me about my music or anything that I’m interested in.”

“I’m sorry, Ro. That sucks,” Faise replied. “But you know my family thinks of you as one of our own. You’re always welcome in our house.”

It was true, I was. Faise’s parents, Naleena and Aaron Reed, were like my own. Even though I wasn’t sure that they were one hundred percent behind the friendship between me and Faise. Not that they’d ever said anything, but I wasn’t a scholar like Faise’s older brother Rae. Naleena was a chemical engineer and Aaron, a scientist who worked for the government. They had high hopes for their sons’ academic and career futures. Hopes that didn’t include friendships with below average classmates like me.

And I seriously doubted they’d want me around once they found out that Faise and I were starting a band. Hey, we don’t care about school. We want to become rockstars. I’m sure that would go over well. Not.

But the bigger worry was them finding out about who I really was. About the secret I’d been holding on to for a year. A truth I kept from everyone, including my best friend. Faise and I talked about everything, but not this. Not until I was sure. There was a weight inside me, a heaviness that secrets have, that I couldn’t explain but needed to let out.

What if he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore once he knows?

I was gay.

I knew it because girls in my class didn’t interest me the way boys did. I wanted to tell my parents too, but I had no idea how they’d react.

I was dreading it. No, not that. I was terrified. But first, I had to tell Faise. Maybe it would be easier to start with him?

“I’ve got something important to tell you.”

Faise stopped drumming and swiveled to face me, strands of his straight black hair falling into his eyes. He was growing it out. It wasn’t shoulder length like mine, but it suited him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s something personal. I haven’t told anyone. But I’m…I’m kinda afraid to tell you.”

Faise placed his sticks aside and walked over to stand in front of me. The hurt in his eyes could not be mistaken.

“It’s me, Ro, you know you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah, but this is different—” I paused.

Shit, my pits were soaked now, sweat making my t-shirt stick to my body. And my heart was pounding like I’d just finished running several laps around the school track.

“Just tell me. Spit it out.”

I wiped my face with clammy hands and took a deep breath.

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