Page 113 of Charming Like Us
I roll down the window. Letting the summer night rush into the car, and I expel another deep breath, pocketing my phone for right now.
Oscar notices. “Is there something that helps you stay on the bright side?” He must be concerned about me since the onslaught of negativity is just beginning.
“Confidence, breathing, sometimes surfing.”
“And when that fails?”
I stare at the cord to my car’s entertainment system. Plugging in my phone, I tap into Spotify. “Blaring music.” I pause before clicking into the song. “I’m about to bepainfullyCalifornia, but this is my dad’s favorite band and I grew up listening to them.”
“They’re your favorite too?” he asks, not knowing who it is yet.
“I know basically every lyric to every song, and they have over ten albums.”
“So that’s afuck yes,” Oscar laughs. “Play it, Highland.”
I put on“Higher Ground”by Red Hot Chili Peppers, originally sung by Stevie Wonder, and I immediately start singing the lyrics and bobbing my head to the beat.
Oscar surprisingly joins me. He knows the chorus, and with an arm out the window, I tap my hand to the hood of the car.
We sing to each other, and I thought I had a good voice, one that melts like butter on a hot day. But Oscar sings the fuck out of this song. His voice is deeper and richer and smoother, belonging in the air like a current of wind.
And his hand slips back into mine. We coast and sing, and I let his affection and the melodies calm the outside noise that fights its way in.
Don’t let it in.
* * *
“DidI say or do something to where you thought you couldn’t tell me?” Jesse wonders, his face shadowed in the dark over FaceTime. I can barely tell he’s in bed, head on a pillow.
Oscar just left to pick up take-out and give me some time to call my family. So I cup my phone, sitting on a kitchen barstool with a towel around my waist. Thanks to a hot shower, I no longer smell like strawberries and cream.
“It wasn’t you; it was me, Jess,” I explain. “I’ve been confused, and I wasn’t ready to tell anyone until now.” Quickly, I add, “And before you ask, I’m still attracted to women. I feel like gender and sex aren’t really factors in who I’m romantically or sexually attracted to at all.”
“Okay, okay.” Jesse lets this sink in, his grin erupting. “I mean, as far as people go, you really landed an ace in the set. Oscar is sick. At least, from what I know while I’ve been on this project with you. He boxes, protects celebrities, speaks multiple languages, cracks funny jokes—ah wait, question.” Jesse sits up for this one, and I relax forward, happy my brother is cool with the news. “So are you giving or receiving, Kuya?”
My face feels hot. This is all so new. Including this question from my brother. “I’ll let you know when I’ve figured it out. Only if you don’t mind me asking you the same questions.”
Jesse smiles. “That’s totally fair. I have a more important question. Themostimportant question.”
I stiffen. Don’t know where this one’s going.
“Does he surf?”
My lip quirks. “Not that I know of.”
“When are you going to teach him? We should go to the beach tomorrow. Jesus,Kuya, does he even know the difference between a paddleboard and a longboard?” He goes off on a tangent and I listen with a laugh. I only stop Jesse when he begins to plan a surfing trip to New Jersey tomorrow morning.
“Postpone that, wild child. We havejobs.”
He sighs. “Shit, the dreaded J.O.B.” He grows quieter, then asks, “So how long have you and Oscar been dating?”
Officially?Today. Though, I’ve been skirting around my feelings for years.
I end up telling him, “Not that long. It’s new.”
“I like new.” His encouragement means a lot, and I express that, then tell him he has the apartment to himself tonight. Now he’sreallyamped on me dating Oscar because he has more room.
“No parties,” I decree.
