Page 23 of Brad & Finn
Atlas looked at Finn, surprise morphing into curiosity as they gave Finn a quick once-over, eyes lingering on Finn’s name tag. Finn used that time to do the same, taking in the shaved sides of Atlas’ blonde hair, as well as their royal blue silk pant suit and sparkling high heels.
“Do I…know you?” they asked.
That weight appeared on his tongue so fast, he barely got his words out. “You did,” he managed to say.
Atlas tipped their head to the side, and a small smile pulled at the corner of their lips. “Well, yes, that does seem to be the common theme of the day.”
Finn shifted his jaw back and forth, attempting to dislodge his anxiety for even a moment. His eyes drifted over Atlas’ shoulders, and he jerked back in surprise. There, on the wall in front of him, was a collage of blown-up yearbook photos: candid shots of various clubs, teams, and groups. Right at eye level was a giant photo of them from senior year. Chloe was using Cory’s shoulders to jump in the air in celebration, her blonde ponytail flying up above her head. Brad had one hand on Kendall’s hip, steadying her where she sat on his shoulders, and his other hand was lifting Finn’s arm in the air like he had been the one to throw the winning pass. The football coach could be seen in the corner of the photo, but for some reason, the cameraman had zoomed in on Finn and his little group. His little found family.
Atlas turned and followed his gaze, their eyes roving over the picture before turning back to Finn. “Oh,” they breathed.
Finn could do nothing but stare at the photo.
“I like the name Finn,” Atlas said, their loud, flamboyant voice much softer, almost reverent. “I think it fits you much better than your old one.”
Finn swallowed, and some of the words he’d been holding inside tumbled out. “I’ve wanted to thank you for so many years. I don’t really do social media, and I never got your number. I’m sure I could have had Chloe track you down; she’s pretty good at that, but…”
Atlas gazed at him, their expression warm and patient as Finn fought to line up his thoughts again. Sometimes it felt like his brain was full of unruly preschoolers, and he was the poor substitute teacher desperately trying to get them to stay in a line.
“But…I haven’t stayed in touch with anyone except Chloe and Kendall,” he continued. “I don’t even talk to my dad anymore. But you…I would have stayed in touch with you. That talk we had at the playground changed my life.”
At Atlas’ wide-eyed expression, Finn curved his shoulders forward, as if he could hide his shame the way he used to be able to hide in loose sweatshirts and baggy tees.
“I came out to myself by the end of the summer,” Finn said, taking their silence as permission to keep going. “It took me several years to transition socially—and then almost a decade to get on T and do surgery and stuff—but I credit you and that conversation for getting me started.”
Atlas’ cheeks tinged pink, and they shuffled their high-heeled feet. “I’m glad I could help—even if I’m pretty sure you did all the work. I was mostly just there to listen.”
Their gaze traveled back to the photo wall. Finn didn’t immediately spot Atlas in any of the photos, but he thought he saw the football player from the bar, Miles, in the photo Atlas was looking at.
“I came out to Brad last night,” Finn found himself saying. “I heard him and Miles talking at the bar, and we struck up a conversation.”
Maybe it was the same reason Finn always felt safer having tough conversations when he was riding shotgun in Chloe’s car. It was easier to spill his guts when he didn’t have to look at the person.
“One thing led to another, and it turns out we’re staying in hotel rooms across from each other. He…tried to kiss me,” Finn said. He glanced at Atlas, happy to see they were still facing the wall. With a start, Finn realized this was how that first conversation had gone, too. Atlas had steadfastly faced forward on the swings, giving Finn the space he and his brain often needed.
“And did you let him?” they asked.
“I ended up spending two hours coming out to him and sort of trauma dumping all over him,” Finn said, regret making his words fall heavy between them.
Atlas breathed sharply out through their nose. “Well, if I remember anything about you, Finn, it’s that you don’t tend to burden others.”
Finn didn’t know what to say to that. His eyes slowly roved over some of the other pictures of various teams and clubs.
“So, after you came out to him…did you kiss?” Atlas asked, a bit of their flamboyant sass coming back into their voice.
Finn sighed, sorry to have to disappoint them. “No. Our only kiss is still the one from Cory’s basement–which, as you remember, didn’t go anywhere.”
Atlas cocked their head. “I’m not surprised it didn’t go anywhere, though. You were both still figuring yourselves out. At that exact moment, you were a closeted gay trans man kissing a—making assumptions here, but—closeted bi man. Of course it wasn’t going to work.”
Finn grimaced. Brad had been very open about his sexuality with Miles, Finn, and Chloe, so he hoped it was okay that Finn was confiding in Atlas.
“I don’t know if it’s going to work out now, either,” Finn said.
Atlas turned to face Finn. “Why?”
“I don’t…hook up a lot, and if I was going to break that streak for Brad… I mean, I’m not sure if he would even be interested. We were a high school fling that never even started.”
Atlas shrugged. “You’ll never know unless you try. It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth the effort.”
