Page 91 of Romance Languages

I wish my friends were here.

“There you are!”

My heart lifted at the sound of Amos’s voice. I turned around and found Chase, Amos, and Everett coming toward me. Chase even carried my jacket. Had prayers ever been answered that quickly? God really was pro-gay.

I got emotional, choking back tears. I couldn’t help it. Almost thirty-five years of zero boy drama had made me unprepared for my first wallop.

They surrounded me like angels, putting my coat over my shoulders.

“J, what’s going on?” Amos knelt in front of me, his sparkling eyes a safe harbor amid all the craziness swirling in my head.

“I’m fine. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Everett stood up and stomped his foot. “I’ve had it with whatever is going on with you. You’ve been MIA from the group chat. You stormed out of the pep rally. There is something going on with you that you just aren’t telling us, and now we find you shivering in the cold by yourself crying, and you’re telling us everything is fine. I never thought I’d be one of those gays who used honey, butHoney, what the fuck is going on?”

I opened my mouth, but he stopped me.

“And I swear, if you say the word ‘fine’ again, I’m going to have an aneurysm. There’s only one four-letter F-word I’ll be tolerating up here.” Everett pulled my hat onto my head making sure it got below the ears.

“I’m having guy problems,” I told them, feeling the dam break.

“We had a feeling,” Chase said. “We ran a statistical analysis of potentially troubled areas in your life and surmised that your family life, professional life, and health wouldn’t generate the same level of caginess you’ve displayed this month.”

“What Chase is saying is that it’s obvious you’ve been having guy problems, but we don’t understand why you’re hiding it from us,” Amos said as he pulled the gloves from my other coat pocket and slipped them onto my hands.

“It’s because this is the first time I’ve ever had guy problems.” I looked up to the clear blue sky and released the weight of this deep, dark secret. “I’m a virgin.”

They didn’t snark or laugh. If anything, they seemed confused.

“I don’t understand. You’ve regaled us with tales of former lovers…” Chase began before Amos and Everett each put a hand on his shoulder. The truth clicked for him. “Oh. I see.”

“I was embarrassed. I’m the oldest one in our friend group with the least experience. Make that no experience. So I made up stories. You guys are my closest friends. I didn’t want to feel left out.”

“We would never leave you out.” Amos rubbed my knee. “You’re not our friend because of how many guys you’ve been with. Who cares about that?”

“It’s not something I planned. You wouldn’t understand. You’re all thin and in shape—”

“Hold the fuck up. First off, I wouldn’t call any of us in shape. Do you remember when we tried to run that Zombie 5K?” Everett said.

A smile came to my face as I recalled us all huffing and puffing and getting passed by kindergartners. One of the zombie actors had chastised us for signing up for a race without doing the proper training. Everett didn’t have a stake on him, so instead, he told the guy to fuck off.

“I can’t remember the last time I was inside a locker room, not counting the time when Hutch and I roleplayed.”

We swiveled our heads toward Amos, whose cheeks flared red.

“We’re still working through our high school trauma,” he said.

“Trauma. Sure.” Everett rolled his eyes.

“Why would you think that our thinness or physical ability would have any bearing on our friendship? Those variables have nothing to do with each other,” Chase said. “This isn’t a wrestling team. There’s no weight limit required.”

I listened to myself. My obsession with how I looked had completely taken over my mind and seeped into every corner of my life.

“And maybe you’re the smartest one of all of us for being a virgin,” Everett said. “You’ve escaped the hell of bad sex.”

“Who’s the guy?” Amos asked.

I exhaled a stifled breath. Saying his name would be hard. “Seamus.”

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