Page 58 of The Season
“Okay…” Lily frowns, not looking entirely convinced, but probably too tired to argue. Her eyelids flutter shut, and she lets out another sigh before throwing her arm back over her face. “It didn’t mean anything,” she rambles, speaking more to herself than to anyone else, her words sounding even more slurred than before. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m probably just horny and lonely. I should have gotten myself off in the shower and stuck to cuddling my ace and gay besties.”
Liam sputters out a choked sound that is half-cough, half-groan, sitting back on his heels to give Antoine a panicked look. I furrow my brow, slowly processing the meaning of Lily’s rambling, my eyes widening and lips forming a silent “oh”when everything slots together, like a jigsaw puzzle in my mind.
Her ace and gay besties. Does she… is she talking about Seth and Antoine?
Antoine stares back at me in silent challenge, enough color draining from his cheeks to make his usually amber skin look ashy, his green eyes burning. I might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but I understand that look. It’s one I’ve seen before.
“Oh… you’re gay.” I say, my cheeks burning at the word, my voice rising in pitch at the end, like I’m asking a question.
It’s a silly thing to blush over. I suddenly feel like an uncultured child, like a country bumpkin who just stumbled out of his small town in Idaho for the very first time.
It’s not an unfamiliar feeling.
When I left Idaho and joined the Marines as a fresh-faced seventeen-year-old, I don’t think I’d heard the wordgayused in a way that wasn’t an offensive slur. I also hadn’t ever drunk coffee or alcohol, smoked, or done more than kiss a girl.
Calling my upbringing conservative would be an understatement. Sheltered and fear-driven would probably be more accurate.
I still haven’t done most of those things—but I’m not that seventeen-year-old boy anymore. On my first deployment, one of my bunkmates was gay. Not out and proud—because that wasn’t really an option—but not closeted either.
At first, I’d been wary of him, the whispers of my father and church dancing in my ear. That wariness faded the more time we spent together, as I realized he was just like me, really—just a guy desperate to escape his small town, hungry for the promise of a solid paycheck and government benefits, wanting to see some of the world, wanting to be able to afford to buy a new car and an Xbox, maybe a down payment on a house one day…
He didn’t get most of the things he dreamt about.
The image of him smiling in the passenger seat next to me is seared into my memory, harsh as desert sunlight, thick with the smell of gasoline and explosives, with dirt and the metallic scent of blood, with the feel of my hands gripping the steering wheel.
I blink, his image rippling like a desert mirage, Antoine’s scowling face taking its place. My chest constricts, a mixture of the pressure that’s been building all evening pulling like a slipknot against the growing realization that I’ve inadvertently offended my roommate.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, and give him what I hope is an apologetic smile. “It’s been a long night.” I square my shoulders, lifting my gaze so that I’m meeting his fully, my palms sweaty where they rest on my knees. “I’m cool with that, man.”
I swallow, my throat dry as I contemplate how much to say, what’s the best way to tell him that I’ve got his back. That I wouldn’t judge him, not for that. That if anyone gives him shit for it, I’ll make sure to give them a piece of my mind.
“My good buddy back in the Marines was gay,” I say finally, the words surprisingly soft, considering that saying them feels like pulling out shrapnel. They flutter between us like a flag of surrender. “He’s…um…” I draw one sweaty palm over my face, and let the words rest unsaid. “Yah.”
Some things are too difficult to talk about. And that’s okay.
The hardness in Antoine’s expression is gone, replaced with a wide-eyed look of sympathy mingled with respect. I drop my gaze, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and look at Lily instead.
She’s asleep now, her lips parted, dark lashes resting on sun-kissed cheeks. The knot tightening behind my ribs loosens at the sight of her, at seeing her hair spilled out over my pillow. At knowing that she’s here, in my bed.
Safe.
“Did… did she just fall asleep?” Liam asks, his voice laced with amusement.
“Yah,” I huff out a laugh, not taking my eyes off Lily. “I could do the same, to be honest.” What with the exam and the party—which is still thrumming, if the sounds coming from the other side of the door are any indication—I’m totally wiped out.
My smile falters. I can’t move Lily from my bed. Even if Tom wasn’t currently hooking up with some chick in their room, there is no way I’d wake her up. And the thought of putting her in there, with him, when she’s vulnerable like this…
“Should we just leave her here?” I ask, looking between Antoine and Liam in question, hoping one of them will know what to do.
Liam gives me a long, appraising look, his brow dipping, lips pursing. “You’re into her,” he says, and even though it isn’t a question, I find myself giving a tentative nod.
“Yah. Yah, I am.”
There. It’s out there now. I let out a shuddering sigh, feeling strangely like I’ve just carved out my own heart and held it up for everyone to see. If I did, they would see Lily’s name written across it.
“Hmm.” His gaze drops to Lily, frown deepening.
Oh. Does he think… is he worried that I’d do something? While she’s sleeping? Or worse, that I brought her here with impure intentions?
