Page 82 of For the Cameras

Tell people when you’re thinking about them. I remembered the piece of advice from yet another list I’d read, trying to improve my social skills over the years.

Screw it. What did I have to lose?

I pulled up my texts with Chase.

Adam Richardsen: Crashed so hard into a nap on my balcony just now. Dreamed that we created our own dessert salsa.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket.

I knew I couldn’t expect quick responses. I’d never been a big texter to begin with, and with Chase especially, I knew I needed to reel in my expectations. For all I knew, he could be dick deep in another guy right this moment, or out at one of the many bars and clubs he loved to party at.

But when my phone buzzed a minute later, it didn’t stop my heart from doing a little backflip in my chest.

Chase Blau: Dreaming about us being sweet salsa tycoons? Give me the details. Was it berries?

I smiled to myself.

Adam Richardsen: This one involved chocolate. The dream is a little hazy, but maybe it was sort of a cherries and chocolate situation. I do remember we made millions from it, though.

Chase Blau: Dessert salsas and filthy videos. Our claims to fame.

Adam Richardsen: We know what the people really want.

Chase Blau: I’m sitting at home trying and failing to paint a watercolor of a zebra, so your afternoon sounds better than mine.

Adam Richardsen: Isn’t a watercolor of a zebra just black and white?

Chase Blau: Oh, Adam. You have no idea the type of zebra I’m trying to paint.

Adam Richardsen: A special zebra, huh?

Chase Blau: A gay zebra. A really, really gay one.

A picture followed shortly after, and I saw what Chase meant. It wasn’t just your average zebra, it was a rainbow technicolor one, and the outline was very detailed underneath the explosion of vivid color.

I snorted a laugh, shifting on my lounge chair and tapping out another text.

Adam Richardsen: He’s beautiful. And honestly, Chase, you’re insanely talented. How can you call that painting a failure?

Chase Blau: Zebra just doesn’t look gay enough.

I laughed again, smiling at my phone like a fool.

Adam Richardsen: Well, I think it’s great. I’d hang it on my wall.

Chase Blau: I’m half kidding. I do like the lil zebra, so far. But I need a break from painting, and now I’m restless. Such is life.

I stared at the text for a minute, then two minutes, then five. An evening breeze rolled through my yard, tossing my hair to one side.

My heart beat a little harder as I contemplated how to reply to his text. But the stupid online social advice still rang out through my head, over and over.

Tell people when you’re thinking about them.

I’d spent a lifetime being timid, shy, and fearful. And where had it gotten me? Taking social risks with Chase had been the single best thing I’d ever done for myself, and I thought of an even better piece of advice that spurred me on:What Would Chase Do?

I knew what Chase would do.

He wouldn’t hesitate. He’d tell me to do whatever the fuck I wanted to do, and do it proudly. I was able to do it last night, so why couldn’t I keep doing it now?

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