Page 52 of It Starts With Summer

I offered them an apologetic smile as I sat, then eyed the breakfast buffet, wondering how long I needed to sit before getting up again to get my food.I cleared my throat and nodded to Mr.Chandra, who had a tasty-looking omelet.

“Ravi is only partway through his morning routine.I told him I’d come down and make sure you didn’t take off without him.”

Prisha laughed and shook her head.“That boy.Sometimes, I wonder how a wife will tolerate him.”

Jiya frowned at her mother.“If Ravi is dating a man, he’d have a husband, not a wife.”

“Well, I’m not his husband, but I tolerate him just fine.”My cheeks were so hot that I must have been bright red.The word husband stuck in my mind, an alluring montage of what it would be like to marry Ravi flashing in front of me.

Prisha had the grace to look embarrassed.“Of course, dear.Sorry, Parker.Getting used to Ravi being bisexual.”

“Pansexual,” Jiya corrected as she stood and took my hand, dragging me out of my chair and across the room.“Let me show you how to use the waffle station.”I looked around for a waffle station, mouth watering, as she pulled me right out the door and into the hall.

“Thanks for the rescue,” I said, looking around at the empty hall.“Why are the waffles out here?”

“There’s no waffle station, you moron.You looked like the perfect kind of golden retriever white boy to lure with waffles.”

“Um…” I started to back away from the crazy.

She moved between me and the door spreading her arms out wide so I couldn’t pass.“I’m not trying to murder you.I need a moment alone with you to ask for your advice.”

“Advice?”I asked, baffled.

“I need to ask you how to come out.You’re the only out person I know.Well, except for Ravi, I suppose, and he just blurted everything out.”

“Technically, we barely even know each—”

“Are you going to help me, or what?”she interrupted me, narrowing her dark eyes at me.Dark eyes that were so much like Ravi’s that her stubborn insolence made me smile a little.

“Okay, Jiya, maybe you’d better start from the beginning.”

“Keep up, dude.I explained it.I’m gay!”An elderly lady walked by and cleared her throat, and I quickly dragged Jiya into a quiet alcove set up for reading.Sighing, she plopped into a big wingback chair, and I sat across from her.

“Jiya, settle down.I know this is a nerve-wracking experience.”I reached out and laid a hand over hers on the armrest of the chair.“Do you want my help, or do you want me to march back into that dining room and demand my waffles?Start from the beginning.”

She huffed out a breath.“I’m afraid to come out.And obviously you came out, didn’t you?Like, what did your parents think?Did they freak?Do they support you now?How did you tell them?”The questions came pouring out, rapid fire.

“My parents passed away when I was a teenager.”

She blinked, her big brown eyes widening.“Shit, man.Sorry.”She folded her hand over mine and squeezed.Then she tilted her head.“Wait, did you come out to them?Did they know you were gay before they passed?”

I didn’t want to talk about that, not even a little, so I changed the subject.“Ravi is out with your parents.They seem accepting.”

“Ravi gets away with everything.He’s autistic and somehow still the golden child.Start fucking around with a guy?Sure, as long as he loves you.White boy?No problem, he seems sweet.”

“Jesus.Language.How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“And you’ve recently discovered you’re gay?”

She pointed to her hair cut.“I’ve suspected for a while, but with puberty and all that, it’s become startlingly clear.”

I wasn’t entirely sure why her haircut was a signal, but I nodded, feeling a little old and out of touch with trends.“Your parents seem lovely.I’m sure they’ll accept you for who you are.But you can come out in your own time.There’s no hurry.Lots of people wait until high school, or college.”

“I take that to mean you didn’t hurry until your parents…” She drew her index finger across her throat.“Just when I thought I’d have real information on this.”

I blew out a breath.“No.I told them when I was fifteen.But I didn’t start with my parents.It was easier to start with people I knew would accept me, people at summer camp.My parents were… tough.They were working class and my father was conservative.My mother let me know she loved me no matter what, though.”

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