Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

I take another big breath. This is strangely hard for me to get out—harder than I imagined it would be.

“So … the thing is …” I’m shaking. All over. “… Hoyt and I …”

“Yes …?”

“We …” I close my eyes. Maybe that’ll make this easier. “We were involved. With each other. For the past month or so. I was his first, and he was my first. I ended it. He’s too young. He needs to have experiences with guys his own age. I don’t wanna hold him hostage here on the farm. That’s … the reason he left, too.”

I wait for a while.

I wait for a while longer.

Then I peek open my eyes.

Lance is leaning back in the chair with a knowing smirk on his face. “Called it,” he says.

I frown. “Called it …?”

“About you. Back at the reunion. I always knew. And I am very much holding back a yelp of profound excitement at the fact that you finally told me.”

“Really?” I let out a sigh of disbelief. “Are you serious? Tanner doesn’t even know.”

“Oh, really? Hmm. Thought you guys were closer. Then again, Tanner doesn’t know how to keep a secret, so that part pans out. Honestly, I thought he was covering for you when I asked him.”

Wait a sec, what? “You asked him …?”

“Oh.” Lance grimaces. “Sorry. I pried a little. It was right after our reunion, if I’m remembering correctly, couple years ago. All I did was ask once, it wasn’t a big thing, and he said he always had his doubts, but thought you were either gay or saving yourself for marriage—which he thought wasn’t likely since you never actually date. He and Kirk allegedly had a whole chat about it once, and—”

“Kirk, too??”

“Look, I’m not trying to start anything,” he says quickly, “but it’s what Tanner said. Why are you panicking? Have you forgotten where you live? This isn’t Fairview, for fuck’s sake.”

I wish people didn’t think so badly about Fairview. All of the farmhands are from there, except for me, Hoyt, and Turtle.

Well, just me and Turtle now.

“I know you’re a private guy,” he says, “so I won’t try to keep cracking you open like an egg. It’s your prerogative. But now that you’ve told me …” He meets my eyes, smiling. “I realize it means you trust me, and that touches me. Thanks, Harrison.”

It takes a second to register that I’ve actually told him. My big secret is slowly spilling out, person by person. I wonder if this was an option the whole time, to share myself to those I trust one at a time, without sparking some giant show and a coming out party thrown by Nadine Strong and the whole PFLAG chapter.

“There’s something else,” I decide to say.

Lance tilts his head, curious.

I take a breath. “I wanted to tell you about myself. Back then. At the reunion. I was hoping to get you alone so we could have a conversation, just you and me … but of course we know someone else had your attention.” I say most of this while not maintaining eye contact; it makes it easier to talk to his shoes, or the desk, or that crooked picture on the wall Gary refuses to hang right. “I had this wild hope that we’d become friends after I came out to you, that I’d finally feel less alone after all these years. Silly, huh?”

Lance shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound silly at all.”

“What’s sillier is … I think I had feelings for you, too.”

He parts his lips. “Oh …?”

“Part of that whole fantasy in my head was thinking we might hit it off at the reunion. Y’know … you’d pull me out of my bubble. And I’d put the country-boy back into you after all of your time in California. Maybe we’d complement each other in some way. Don’t worry,” I quickly add, noting the look of concern on Lance’s face. “I’m not confessing some deep, secret obsession with you. It’s just my experience at that reunion made me see how badly I wanted someone special for myself. I wanted my own Chad. Or my own you. My own Billy … Tanner … Cody … Trey …” I let out a sudden laugh. “It feels kind of amazing, saying all of this finally. But after years of seeing everyone else find their special guy, I just … really wanted my own. Whoever that is.”

“Whoever that is …” murmurs Lance thoughtfully, nodding. “Isn’t that the worst puzzle of all? Figuring that part out?”

I glance back at the desk, where the paperwork sits. “Yeah.”

“And who’s to say it isn’t cutie-pie?”

I snort. “Twelve years’ age difference says so.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Harrison? C’mon. You wanted us to be friends, right? Friends tell each other the truth. So here’s a little truth bomb: you’re just worried about what others all over town will think.”