“How many people are we talking here?” Shaw asked as I drove.
“Well, my dad has four siblings, but only three will be there with their families. Mom has a brother and a sister, but Auntie Angela’s son won’t be there.”
He frowned. “You say that like there’s a specific reason some of them won’t be there.”
I should have known he would sense it. Shaw was so damn good with people, with paying attention in a way that I wasn’t even sure he realized. “Because this is the South, and I’m queer and biracial, and that’s how shit goes sometimes. Remember I told you one of my cousins wants nothing to do with me because I’m gay? That’s him. And my aunt on my dad’s side says she isn’t racist, but she doesn’t think blacks and whites should mix.”
“First, that sounds pretty racist to me, and second, Jesus Christ, E.”
Yeah, it was racist, for sure, but they would never see it that way. I shrugged because that was life. I wasn’t going to chase after people and beg for acceptance. “It is what it is.”
“It’s shitty is what it is. It’s not something I would have thought about. The queer part I would, but not the other.”
But then, why would he have? It wasn’t something he would have to deal with.
“Was it hard for you, growing up?” he asked. “I know you said you feel like your dad wishes you were straight, but all of it…the family stuff? That’s a lot.”
That was a tough question. “It wasn’t fun, obviously, but it’s what I knew. Dad’s parents had a hard time with it at first, but they came around. So crazy that you have to come around to accept someone different from you. My aunt doesn’t visit because Dad won’t allow her. She would because we’re family. That’s what she said, like we should appreciate her making an exception because we’re related. But like Dad says, me and Mom are his family. He won’t allow us to be tolerated, if that makes sense, and since she still has negative feelings about us, he ain’t having it.”
Shaw nodded, and I continued. “Growing up, I always had to deal with the two ‘strikes’ against me—three, actually: gay, more fem, and biracial. I’ve felt not masculine enough, not black enough, not white enough. A lot of not enough in my life until…well, until I met Danny, and until I decided I didn’t give a fuck about people who felt I was not enough.”
The car was silent. I glanced over to see Shaw staring at me with what looked like this blend of sorrow and admiration.
“What?” I asked, my eyes turning back to the road.
“Nothing. Just…you’re pretty incredible.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious, E. I want you to know I see your worth, I see who you are, every part of you, and you’re more than enough. Most people don’t deserve you.”
My heart was thudding, while at the same time there was this flutter in my chest. I was so fucking crazy about him, so in love with him. I wanted to tell him. Wanted to make sure he knew he was enough too, more than enough, because for all his posturing and cockiness, I didn’t think Shaw knew that.
He reached over and put his hand on my thigh. Somehow, I knew if I spoke, if I said what I felt, he would freak out. He wouldn’t believe me or wouldn’t feel worthy. “Do you realize we went from not having anything nice to say about each other to shit like this?”
He shook his head but smiled. “It’s all your fault. You’ve ruined me.”
This time, I did say something. I had to. “You’ve ruined me too.”
We didn’t talk about anything important the rest of the ride. Shaw was quiet, introspective. I’d never wanted more to be inside someone’s head. When we pulled up in front of my parents’ house, I killed the engine and looked at him. “We good?”
He smiled. “You’ll protect me? Be my knight in shining armor?”
We both laughed. “I got your back, baby.” I winked, then froze because, well, I’d used an endearment with him and it was so boyfriend-y, which we so totally were.
I waited, wondered how he would respond, but he only nodded and said, “We’re good. You know they’re going to love me, right? I’m known to be pretty irresistible.”
“You’re a conceited ass, is what you are.”
“Eh. You’re not wrong.”
“Shut up and get out of the car,” I told him, and he did. As we stepped out, Danny and Brooklyn pulled up behind us.
They walked over, and Brooklyn ignored me, going directly to Shaw. “Oh, hi. I’m Elijah’s good friend whom he’s terribly, terribly mean to, as this is the first time I’ll get to hang out with you guys together.”
“Hey! I invited you to dinner with us earlier this week. You’re the one who had plans,” I countered.