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“I …” The words get stuck. “I think I’m demi.” Surprise shoots through her expression, and while most people don’t know what demisexual means, it’s clear she does. “Seth, I …” She can’t finish her sentence. “I’m really sorry that my need for an emotional connection and lack of sex was inconvenient for you. But guess what? It’s not so great for me either.”
@confused96: … Are you a porcupine? I’m pretty sure if I ask, you have to say. No, wait, that’s the police. @scientistguy: Not the police either. That’s what dumbass criminals think. @confused96: Did you just call me a criminal? @scientistguy: I also called you a dumbass. @confused96: I can’t refute that.
My stomach flips when I see his messages. I’m eager and excited to get them, but does that equate to sexual attraction? I don’t know.
@confused96: Did you hear oxygen went on a date with plutonium? @scientistguy: …? @confused96: It went OK. I blink. Stare at the answer for a moment, trying to figure it out. O … K? Is that meant to be from the periodic table? What the hell does plutonium have to do with it though? Before I can reply, a stream of messages starts to pop up. @confused96: Wait. Shit. POTASSIUM. Oxygen and POTASSIUM. They dated. It went okay. I mean OK!!!! **Face palm** I give up.
Richie: Pandas are so dumb, they’re carnivorous but eat plants. Because … plants are right there. Einstein: That sounds more lazy than dumb. Richie: When Sloths climb trees, they sometimes think their own limb is a branch and fall to their death. Einstein: LMAO! Oh wait, I mean … I shouldn’t laugh at that, right? Richie: Turkeys drown by staring up at the sky when it’s raining. Einstein: And we have a winner.
Ace Valentine’s Day cards. They should be a thing. I like you a lot, I think you’re hot, but I don’t want you near my spot.
Zach has half the hockey team chasing after him to make sure he’s okay, and who do I have? I don’t need to check behind me to know the answer to that question.
Richie: Don’t get too philosophical on me. It hurts my brain. Maybe I am a turkey. Einstein: At least you know not to look up at the sky when it’s raining. Your spirit animal should be one step higher than drowning turkey. Richie: That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.
“Yeah, you know. Boobered. Why can’t I say Boobered right?” “I’m guessing you mean Ubered?” I point at him. “Yes. That. Has anyone ever told you that you could be the smartest hockey player in the history of hockey players?” Cohen chuckles. “Definitely not, but it’s good to know I jump up a few IQ points when the people around me are drunk off their asses.”
“Teach me,” Beck whines. “Teach me, teach me, teach me.” “Fine. Say J’ai pas de …” “J’ai pas de …” “Couilles.” “Couilles.” “J’ai pas de couilles.” “J’ai pas de couilles. What does it mean?” “You have no balls. You should yell it at Carolina tonight when they try to take down Grant. Like, really loudly.” “Awesome.” Beck’s excitement is nothing compared to mine.
When Grant basically says I’ll overhear him and Zach have sex if I stay with them, and Beck offers to let me watch him and Jacobs have sex in their room, I turn to Seth in a moment of desperation.
And now that I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s him, I’m going to be so fucking disappointed if it isn’t. Because Cohen? Oh, yeah, the attraction’s there.
Beck’s stare flies back to Richie, then to me, then back to the gigantic goddamn hickey. I very nearly face-palm, but the look that crosses Beck’s expression is so comical, I can’t look away. His eyes get all big as he looks upward, and then he very deliberately rolls his lips in, holding back his laugh. “You okay?” Foster asks him. “Okay?” Beck forces himself to inhale. “I’m fucking fantastic. So fantastic, I’m buying everyone a round of fruity-as-fuck cocktails. Want one, Cohen? Seth? Of course you do! This is great. Lunch is great. What a fantastic day.”
“As my boyfriend’s best friend’s little brother—” “I’m the older brother.” He narrows his eyes. “Nah, I don’t see it.”
“I don’t think you know how childbirth works.” “Maybe I’ll knock up Jacobs and see firsthand.” I cringe. “I don’t think you know how biology works either.” “Biology? That sounds like a challenge to try harder to me.” I’d call him an idiot—again—but I can tell by the teasing glint in his eye that he’s joking.
“Science is cool. Science is hot.” Richie leans in. “You’re gonna Bunsen burn me right up.” “Oh no.” “You can polish my beaker any day.”
Quick, come up with an excuse as to why you’re naked in their son’s apartment. “I’m a nudist!” I blurt. They both look confused. “I’m trying to recruit Seth into my cult. That’s why I’m naked.” Seth’s dad looks like he’s trying to swallow his lips. His mom is averting her gaze. Hmm, they don’t believe me. “I actually gave up my clothing for Lent.” “That starts in February,” Seth mutters. Oh shit. “Okay, truth. I have a mole. Somewhere not … normal. I asked Seth to look at it for me.” Seth finally breaks. “Oh my God, stop talking and go put clothes on.” “Okay.” I make a run for it.
“So, I have some slightly disturbing news,” I say. “You do?” I nod. “I think I’m kind of dating everyone I’ve ever slept with? And, we didn’t break up. So, I’ve cheated on all of them with you. A lot.”
“And that constellation right there”—Richie points to a string of lights—“is the giant saucepan …” “I think it’s called the Big Dipper.” “No, no.” He points to another lot. “That’s the big dicker. And those two red ones are the big titties.” I laugh and twist my hand around his scarf. “And that lot?” “Ah, those are the Ursa Ménage à trois.” “So romantic.” I pretend to sigh.
My focus flicks to Beck, who’s behind Jacobs, and he nods like I’ve got this as if I’ve told him to do something telepathically when I haven’t. At least, I don’t think I have. Maybe I’m telepathic and completely oblivious to that too. He steps onto the bench in front of his cubby, only wearing a jockstrap. “Everyone! I have an announcement.” The team turns their attention on him. “So, umm, the announcement is … well, it’s … Uh …” He glances back at me. I mouth, “What the hell are you doing?” “We’re going to kick ass this weekend.” The locker room erupts into cheers, so as a diversion, I guess
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“Are you okay?” Beck asks. “You look confused.” “I don’t think I want to live in a world where TJ Beckett is serious and not a fuckboy.” He slaps my shoulder. “You and me both. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Clarissa takes over. “When you’re gay, you get a built-in radar for these things.” “Plus, you’re constantly staring at dudes’ butts,” Sarah adds.
I’m camp as all hell. I scream queer in how I talk, and move, and act. It’s on purpose. With you, it’s more about how you treat people. You always have your guard up, you’re suspicious of new people, and it’s like you have to be in control of yourself all the time. Almost like you’re trying to play the part you think you should. That was all me in high school, boo. Then when you do get with someone, you’re always waiting for it to end. You’re the gay tragedy trope in human form, Sethie boy.”
“Boyfriend?” Richie asks. “Aren’t we?” “Are we?” His genuine tone makes me laugh. I bury my smile into my hand and shake my head. “We’ve got to stop doing this.” “I dunno.” He rubs his jaw. “I sort of like being surprised.”
Foster looks from me to Richie and back again, face tense like he’s trying to work out math. “This guy?” he finally asks, pointing at my boyfriend. “I was as surprised as you are.”
There’s no trace of his smug confidence when he smiles. “Cohen, looks like you’re stuck with me again.” “Nah.” Richie moves closer and rests his hand on my thigh. “I’m stuck with Seth. You’re just that annoying brother we have to put up with at Christmas.”
“What about me?” Richie asks. We turn to him, confused. “Well, aren’t you going to warn Seth about hurting me? Why don’t you care about my feelings?” I’d laugh, but I actually think he’s serious. Foster looks unsure. “Ah, Seth. If you hurt Cohen …” He looks to Zach for help, but Zach looks lost. “Beck will skewer you with his hockey stick,” Richie says, then raises his hands. “His words, not mine.”
That’s when I hear, “Is everyone on this team fucking gay?” I break away from Seth and turn to Henrikson. “If we want to get technical, Jacobs is the only gay one.” Jacobs calls out as he walks past, “Nope. I’m bi again! I think.” “He’s mine, that’s all that matters,” Beck says as he drags him away.
“Eh. I’ll still love you anyway.” Seth lets out a little gasp, and my eyes widen. That didn’t just fall out of my mouth, did it? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. “You’ll what?” Seth’s lips curve upward. “I’ll still … uh, like you? Very much. Yes. That.” His smile only widens. “You love me?” I swallow the large lump in my throat. “Umm, no?” He cocks an eyebrow, and his lips press together. “Yes?” “You sound confused.”
You can’t just tweet about how hot the guys look.” She purses her lips. “We won’t be making that mistake again.”
