Page 3 of Home in Nevada

She smiles wide. "So... how many times did you make out with this guy?"

Oh my god.Fuck.

My heart goes from zero to a hundred in an instant. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

"Ask me another question."

Lucy bursts into laughter, bending over and clutching her stomach. "Oh my god! Jeff, how many times?"

"A lot of times, okay?!" I admit, still gripping the wheel like it’s my only lifeline.

"How many times?! Tell me!" She grabs my sleeve, tugging on it like a little kid.

"Stop..." I take a breath, shaking her off gently.“He was my best friend growing up. For some reason, we kissed one day in middle school... We were playing a video game, and I tickled him. It was just... weird. It was nothing, but it kept happening. Like, every time we were alone, it happened. God, we made out all the fucking time until I moved away. In the bathroom at school, in my room with the door closed when my parents were home, in the locker room after a game when everyone had already left. I’m still shocked no one realized we were doing that for so long…I have no idea how many times, Lucy. Hundreds."

I pause, glancing at her and noticing her silence. Her face is blank, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve shared too much.

"I had girlfriends on and off at the time," I add, trying to give Lucy some context.

She remains quiet, and I can’t help but smile as I think back to high school—those weren’t bad times at all. I was pretty popular, on the football team, and people came out to watch my games, cheering my name. Girls fought over me. I was effortlessly ripped, even though I ate like crap. Honestly, I had nothing to complain about back then.

"I was really popular with chicks back in the day, believe it or not," I say, tugging at my t-shirt and giving her a pointed look. She rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed.

"What's his name?" Lucy asks, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

"...James." I chuckle at myself for a moment. "Uh, Jamie," I correct.

Finally, she laughs, glancing over at me with that familiar playful sparkle in her eye.

"Jeff..." Lucy grabs my hand and squeezes it. "Dude, you're probably bi."

I frown, looking at her in confusion. "What? No, I’m not."

"Yeah, you are," she insists, squeezing my hand again before using it to change the song on my phone.

"Nothing like that has ever happened again," I stress, shaking my head. "It was just a weird thing with him, no one else. I don’t know what that was."

"That was you wanting some dick, my friend," she teases, selecting the next song and wiggling her eyebrows at me.

"No. Nothing like that happened."

But even I know that’s a lie.

Jamie and I would grind against each other while making out. That was kind of our thing. We had some pretty heavy make-out sessions… Actually, right after my sixteenth birthday, I accidentally came into my swim shorts when we made out for the second time in Jamie's bedroom.I internally cringed.That felt like fucking forever ago, and it was Jamie's fault for relentlessly grinding his hips on me while we laid on the bed.

"Please don't tell me you're gay. Tiffany's going to be heartbroken," Lucy jokes, her tone light, but I can hear the hint of concern beneath it.

"Stop it, Lucy. You're not hearing me. He was my best friend."

My heart aches. I’ve never told anyone about Jamie before. I’ve buried those memories deep and moved on, trying to leave it all behind. I don’t want to think about it anymore. It isn’t just a dirty little secret; I had so many fun, happy memories growing up with Jamie.

He made living in Nevada special. Jamie wasn’t just a friend; he was my rock through some of the toughest times of my childhood.

I remember the day I busted my leg on my dirt bike. I had to wear that clunky cast to school, and it felt like a total nightmare. But Jamie was right there with me. When I walked into school, limping and feeling like everyone was staring, he showed up at my locker with this huge grin, a stack of magazines under his arm, and a ridiculous story about how he’d “honed his nursing skills” while playing video games. He made me laugh so hard that I nearly forgot about the pain, turning a rough situation into something manageable.

Then there was my parents' separation and near-divorce. Those moments were heavy, and I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Jamie would come over and just listen as I vented about the chaos at home. He’d nod seriously but always find a way to crack a joke, lightening the mood. It was like those moments together created a bubble where I could escape the drama, even if just for a little while.

And how could I forget the time I got caught smoking weed and almost got kicked off the football team? I was terrified, thinking about how disappointed my parents would be and how I’d let my teammates down. But Jamie didn’t even flinch. He showed up at my house with a bag of snacks and a plan. We sat on my bed, brainstorming excuses and laughing about how ridiculous it all was. He stood by me, reminding me that one mistake didn’t define who I was, that I wasn’t alone in this.

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