Page 67 of Devilry

Keeping his features stoic, it’s easy to believe this is just another run of the mill story he’s listening to, but it’s the way his eyes soften while staring at me that tells me this is just as hard to hear as it is to tell.

“How did they find out?” he asks.

A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth. “I got caught with my hands down a guy’s pants behind church.”

His eyes widen in shock.

“His hands may have also been full. With my dick.” The visual is enough to have us both laughing and lightening up the mood. “We’d just finished jerking each other off,” I explain. “Come was all over our hands. It was fucking messy.” The trip down memory lane continues as I remember how it all felt, right before my father caught us. Not just the high from the orgasm, but the complete elation of being able to finally share something so intimate with someone.

“Fuck,” Cole interrupts with a chuckle. “I think that would’ve even scarred my mom, and I’ve always been out.”

Fiddling with the tassels on a nearby pillow cushion, I nervously ask, “What was it like not having to come out?”

Cole shifts, straightening his spine. “It doesn’t feel right talking about it.”

“Please,” I beg. He exhales in defeat, and I give him a stern look. “And don’t downplay it.”

“I always knew I was gay, I just never realized I was different.” He takes a long pull of his beer. “My sister would talk about the crushes she had, and naturally I did too. They were always guys and my parents never flinched.”

“Did you grow up around anyone who was gay?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not anyone close enough to explain how normal it felt, or how comfortable it was.”

Sinking back into the chair, I picture a younger, but still confident Cole. “That explains a lot.”

He tips his head to the side, narrowing his eyebrows at me. “What do you mean?”

“You’re comfortable in your own skin. It’s a good look on anyone.” He winces like I’ve insulted him, and immediately I reach for him, placing a hand on his knee. “My upbringing doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for people who didn’t have it like me. What you had is the way it should be.”

Standing up, I break the tension and surprise myself. “Can I have a beer?”

Cole jerks up from his seat. “Please, let me get it.”

Not wanting to argue, I plop myself back down and wait. In less than a minute he returns, handing me the cold drink.

Lifting the beer to my mouth, I take—what I’m sure is— a pathetic looking sip of the beverage.

I don’t swallow it straight away, letting the small amount of liquid sit in my mouth before I find the courage to drain it down my throat. Nothing at all like I expect it to be, the crisp mixture of malt and hops leaves an odd but not unpleasant aftertaste. Quickly, I take another swig and I feel all my senses beginning to accommodate the taste.

Bringing the bottle down, I inspect the ingredients. “I could get used to this.”

“That’s all I need,” Cole jokes. “To turn you into an underage drinker.”

“It’s college.” Raising my bottle, I reach out to him in the universal signal for cheers. The glass of our bottles clinks ceremoniously. “It’s inevitable.”

Simultaneously, we take another pull before he asks, “So, your family are churchgoers?”

Isn’t that the understatement of the year.

“My dad is the well-revered pastor of Kent County Baptist Church.”

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, understanding written all over his face. “I guess that explains a lot.” He leans back, making himself more comfortable. “What was it like growing up? Before the incident, I mean.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. Naturally, we were ruled by religion, but it never really felt like a problem until it was.” I hook my arm back over the couch. “I couldn’t fault my upbringing up until then. My father was strict, but it came with the territory. And I didn’t really have any need to disobey him.”

No longer angry at how it all turned out, I can’t help but think back on it with overwhelming sadness. I don’t miss the family I left behind. There’s no connection to the family we became, just a deep sense of nostalgia for the family that we were.

“And after the incident?”

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