Page 10 of The Idiot

I smack his hands again before dropping my forehead into my palm. Maybe he does need a diagram. For fuck’s sake. I should have planned this and done it in private.

Why is he quiet again?

Glancing over, I find a subdued version of my vivacious best friend. There’s a desperate curiosity in his eyes as he bites his lip and stares at me patiently. Jesse’s never patient. Shit.He’s… trying, actually trying to understand, at least. I have to give him credit for that. This could be so much worse.

But… he wants to know if I’ve fucked.That’swhat he apparently needs to hear for it to sink in that I’m serious and not just going through some unexpected life change?

Why does it feel like I cheated on him?

That’s ridiculous.

Looking back at the TV, I shrug. “Yeah.”

“Withwho?” he chirps. “Do I know them?”

His excitement is surprising for once. He wants to know, as in, he’s actually taking an interest in my secret life. That’s… promising, I guess.

“No. Nobody you know.”

“Oh, come on!” He swats my arm. A breath of relief floods out of my lungs at that touch. He knows I’m gay, and he touched me like we’re still friends. “I know everyone in Wenatchee,” he rationalizes.

Fuck. Andthat’swhy I feel like I cheated.

“No one from Wenatchee,” I murmur.

“When can you possibly have time to…” Stopping, he sucks in a sharp intake of breath. “Wait a minute! When you go to Ellensburg? Isthatwhy you go on your rodeo trips? Are you dating a cowboy?”

Christ on a cracker. I really should have thought this through. I’m not a liar. I never lie to him, except… when I do.

“I haven’t been to a rodeo since I was twenty-two,” I confess, afraid to look at him now.

“What? But you go to Ellensburg to see your cousin Dylan every few months. Is he gay too?” Another gasp, making me want to shrink in my stool as he pieces my lies together. “Wait. He’s married. No way. Are he and his wife swingers?”

Okay, maybe he’s not piecing it together. Now, I really feel like a dick.

He hates the rodeo. He only went once when we were kids and wasn’t impressed. It’s the one place I could never get him to return to when we were younger, the one place I knew he’d never tag along in my adulthood.

“Dylan moved to Rhode Island like four years ago,” I throw out casually, hoping it will lessen the blow. “I said I go to the rodeo in Ellensburg with him as my alibi, so you wouldn’t insist on coming along.”

“Wh— Then where have you been going all those weekends away?”

“Seattle.” I shrug, but feel like I owe him a further explanation for years of deceit. “To clubs—gay clubs.”

“Oh, holy crap,” he groans miserably, rubbing his temples. “It’s like I don't even know you. Our entire friendship has been a lie.”

The bartender drops our plates down in front of us. The clatter compounds the pounding in my head. I feel like a criminal for lying to him repeatedly. I know he has a flair for the dramatic, but his comment is a sucker punch.

“You know me,” I assure him. “You just didn’t knowonething because I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“I can handle it,” he insists petulantly.

I give him a doubtful look, which sends his hands up in defense. “I can! My brother is gay; of course, I can handle it.”

“Bi,” I remind him, hating how testy I sound.

“Bi. Sorry.My brother is bi. See? Everything’s fine.”

I study him like I’m searching for cracks in porcelain. Is he holding his breath like he’s waiting for my verdict? And here I thought I was the one who was worried about losingsomething. Maybe I didn’t give Jesse enough credit because it kind of looks like he doesn’t want to lose me, either.

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