“What?!” Damon put his carton of milk down too hard, and it splashed all over his tray.

  Chelsea threw her hands up. “Don’t worry! We were going to ask Elliot first about spreading the rumor. I’d never do it without his permission. Madison was going to ask after he asked her out, but he hasn’t, so…”

  “Elliot isn’t gay.”

  Chelsea furrowed her brows. “So he is bi? That’s even better! It’s not a rumor.”

  Damon shook his head and stood up. He didn’t know where he was going. “Elliot isn’t…he isn’t…” His palms were sweating. He sat back down, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Who told you he was gay?”

  Chelsea’s head jutted back. “Well…I…”

  “Who was it? Who the fuck was it?” Damon didn’t usually get angry, but his blood was burning. The asshole who’d spread this rumor was about to get his lights knocked out.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know who told me. I didn’t think it was, like, a secret. I mean, no one talks about it or anything, but it’s…I mean, you even said it.”

  Damon’s face scrunched up. He finally understood the expression of seeing red. “What are you talking about?” he bit out.

  She threw her hand out. “You said that Elliot won’t ask Madison out publicly because he’s you know.”

  “Shy, Chelsea,” Damon said. “He’s shy. That’s what I was getting at.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at her tray. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was going to upset you.”

  “I don’t like that you and the rest of the school are talking behind his back.”

  “I don’t think anyone is, like, talking behind his back. It’s just, like, one of those things. The sky is blue. The meatball subs in the cafeteria are not real meat. Elliot is gay.” She shrugged. “I’ve never heard anyone make fun of him if that makes it better.”

  Damon put his tongue into his upper lip. He searched the cafeteria for the familiar sight of Elliot’s floppy golden hair even though Damon knew Elliot didn’t have lunch this period, and in fact, he was in calculus right now.

  Elliot had history next, which meant they wouldn’t cross paths because Damon’s class was in the opposite direction. If he hurried, he could get there as class let out and—

  “Damon?” Chelsea asked, her voice tiny.

  “What?”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No,” he said, but his tone didn’t match his answer. “I just—I have to go.” He got up and took his tray with him, tossing the rest of his lunch.

  “Damon! Don’t forget to remind Elliot to do the thing!” Chelsea yelled before he pushed the double doors and practically sprinted down the hall.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey,” Elliot said as he walked out of calculus. Damon saddled up beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in English?”

  Yes, Elliot knew Damon’s entire schedule by heart.

  Yes, he realized he was obsessed with him to a more-than-friend degree.

  “Yeah,” Damon said. He wrung his hands and looked around the hall with a wild, frantic look in his eyes. “But I need to…I need to talk to you.”

  “Now? Ms. Benson will chew you out if you’re late.” Elliot furrowed his brows as he got to his locker and exchanged his books.

  “Is this because I didn’t ask Madison out yet?” Elliot sighed. “I just... I don’t know. We both already know we’re going together. Do I really have to ask her?”

  Damon shook his head. “It’s not about that.”

  “Okay…”

  One of Damon’s baseball teammates slapped him on the back in a passing greeting. Damon forced a smile at them as they walked away. “Maybe here isn’t the best place.”

  “Dude,” Elliot said. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Damon was so easygoing. This was incredibly unsettling. He had two modes: happy and bouncing-off-the-walls excited. The only time Elliot had ever seen him outside of those two emotions had been when Damon’s dad died in a car accident.

  Elliot’s stomach plummeted like it always did when he thought of that day, about his failure, about Damon’s despair.

  “Can you be late for your next class?” Damon asked.

  He was officially scaring him. Had something terrible happened?

  “Yeah,” Elliot said. “What’s going on? Is it your mom? Is she okay?”

  He tried to recite the spell he used to calm his panic. Don’t take the bait, decrease my heart rate.

  Except, like usual, his magic didn’t work when he really needed it, and Elliot spent the next thirty seconds spiraling out as Damon pulled him by the arm to the restroom.

  Was his mom sick, or was he sick? Oh god. What if Damon was dying? If Elliot was better at healing magic, maybe he could do something. Maybe he could get his grandmama to help. Maybe it wasn’t too late—

  “She’s fine. Everyone’s fine,” Damon said.

  Elliot exhaled.

  Damon released him once they were in the restroom. He did the thing they do in the movies where they kick open all the stalls to make sure they were alone.

  The bell rang, echoing in the empty tiled bathroom. They were officially late.

  Damon whipped around, glanced at the door behind him, and then whispered, “Are you gay?”

  Elliot froze, muscles tensing like an animal caught in the crosshairs. His hands tingled, the magic in him trying to escape, to heal something and dissipate the fight-or-flight response bubbling inside of him.

  Damon’s eyes darted around his face, searching for the answer, since Elliot couldn’t find his voice. “You can tell me, Elliot. Just…You can tell me anything. I’m your best friend.”

  Elliot hung his head, staring toward the floor but not really seeing anything.

  This wasn’t how he’d fantasized coming out to Damon. He imagined one day he’d gather the courage to say, I’m gay, Damon, and I want to be with you in a way that is more than friendly. At first, Damon would be taken aback, but then he’d smile his usual smile and grab Elliot and pull him close, and Damon’s lips would find his and—

  “Elliot?”

  Elliot blinked away the fantasy. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m gay, okay?”

  Damon’s face crumbled, and he grabbed his stomach like he’d taken a punch to the gut.

  Elliot had imagined a lot of worst-case scenarios to admitting his sexuality, but Damon being disgusted hadn’t been one of them. Damon had never made homophobic comments, had never shown any signs that he might be upset with his best friend liking men.

  Elliot focused on the little rectangle window high above the stalls. He wasn’t very tall. It was unlikely he’d be able to crawl out of here. He’d need a lift to reach it.

  And wasn’t that what was truly fucked? Elliot couldn’t even imagine an escape plan that didn’t involve Damon’s help.

  Damon stepped sideways, blocking Elliot’s view of the window. “I’m not judging you. I don’t care if you’re gay.” He reached out a hand to grab Elliot’s shoulder but then pulled it back.

  Elliot scoffed to hide the fact his insides were being shredded into pieces. “Yeah, okay, Damon. Is that it? Can I go to class?”

  Damon ran a hand down his face. “Elliot. Why are you…? Why didn’t you tell me? Chelsea had to tell me.”

  Elliot pursed his lips. “How did Chelsea know?”

  He shrugged. “She said she just knew. That everyone knows. Everyone except me, I guess.” He leaned on the sink. “Why, Elliot? Why’d you let me go on and on about hooking you up with girls and all that bullshit?”

  Elliot sighed. “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to date anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why can’t you date guys?”

  “You mean all the guys who are interested in dating a skinny-ass nerd like me? Oh, wait.” Elliot snapped. “There are none of those.”

  Damon rubbed his palm over his chin. “I’m sure there are guys in our school who are gay too. I’m sure—”

  Elliot snorted. “Oh, there are. That’s not the problem. I’ve fucked around with them, but they aren’t interested in dating.”

  Damon’s eye twitched.

  Elliot’s cheeks heated. Damon had never been shy about sharing his hookup history, but apparently the thought of Elliot messing around with guys was too much.

  Damon made a helpless noise, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s like I don’t even know you. You know everything about me. And you have this whole other life that you’ve kept from me.”

  Elliot threw his arms up. “I’m allowed to have things I keep to myself! Just because you want to describe in excruciating detail the way pussy tastes doesn’t mean I have to return the favor.”

  Damon’s eyebrows pulled down as sadness deflated his features.

  Regret pitted Elliot’s stomach. It wasn’t true. He wanted to know every single detail about Damon, even the parts that made him burn with jealousy, but he couldn’t take it back now. He turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, “I have to go to class.”

  Damon didn’t stop him.

  Chapter Four

  Damon and Elliot had gotten into fights before. When they were younger, it was usually because Damon didn’t understand why Elliot insisted on doing things a certain way. Damon’s mom had to explain to him that some people were extra sensitive.

  That the things Damon loved about Elliot—his kindness and understanding, his quiet reassuring presence—those things came from that sensitivity.

  Elliot always knew Damon’s feelings without Damon ever having to explain them. He was the calming presence that held Damon as he broke down when his dad died. Damon wouldn’t have gotten through that time without him.

  But that sensitivity meant Elliot usually avoided conflict. He let the things that bothered him fester under the surface until he exploded and it ended up in a huge fight that Damon didn’t see coming.

  Damon knew this. He tried to be better. Tried to be more sensitive, like his best friend.

  But he never really mastered that preternatural way Elliot just knew things about him. About when he was scared or sad. When he needed space or needed comfort. When he was about to do something stupid and needed to be talked out of jumping off swings or roofs.

  Damon could see that every fight they’d had in the last four years had been because Damon was pushing Elliot to date or trying to set him up.

  It made sense now why Elliot had shut down when Damon told him about going to prom with Chelsea. Why his shoulders had hunched and he wouldn’t meet Damon’s eye as he explained how Elliot and Madison could go together to the dance. Elliot wasn’t jealous of Damon at all. He was sick of Damon pressuring him into being someone he wasn’t.

  Damon rubbed his eyes. It made him sick to remember everything he’d said to him. The hours and hours he went on, trying to coach him on how to talk to girls or how they liked to be kissed or touched. It never occurred to him that Elliot might be gay. Damon thought he was just shy and needed advice.

  God, he was such a dick.

  Everyone in school knew, or assumed, that Elliot was gay, but Damon didn’t see it. Didn’t know his best friend at all.

  Elliot was his everything, and he kept this from Damon, which meant Damon wasn’t as important to Elliot as Elliot was to him.

  It’d been a week since he’d hauled Elliot into the restrooms and basically forced him to come out.

  Damon tried, multiple times, to type out an apology text, but everything sounded stupid. He scrolled through their text thread. The last message was ten days ago. Elliot reminding him that Damon’s mom’s birthday was this week. Or last week. Which Damon had forgotten anyway because he was a terrible person. Elliot probably would have reminded him again on the day of if they weren’t still fighting.

  He deleted his pathetic I’m sorry text and left his phone in his bedroom. He went down the stairs and into the kitchen to deliver the other apology he owed.

  “Hey, Momma?”

  “Hmm?” his mom said, stirring something in a pot.

  “Can I help you with dinner?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Sure, baby. That’d be great. You want to get stuff out for the salad? Cut up the veggies?”

  Damon opened the fridge. “Uh, so,” he started, grabbing the veggies. “I’m really sorry I forgot to say happy birthday the other day. I suck.”

  His mom laughed. “It’s okay, hun. I know you have a lot on your mind with semifinals coming up.”

  He deposited all the vegetables on the counter and went to his mom, hugging her from behind. “Still. I’m sorry, Momma. Happy late birthday.”

  She patted his hand. “Thank you, Damon.”

  “Should we go out to eat or something this weekend? My treat?”

  Turning to him, she smiled and said, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

  “We could go to the restaurant you and Dad always went to.”

  “I think I’d like that.”

  Damon grabbed a knife and started cutting the vegetables. It’d taken years for them to finally be able to talk about his dad without tears.

  The night of the car crash was the worst of his life. It’d been after Elliot and Damon’s sixth-grade graduation. Damon’s parents had taken them both to a gaming arcade to celebrate. A drunk driver swerved into their lane.

  His mom had a broken pelvis and almost lost her ability to walk. Damon and Elliot got away with nothing but a couple cuts, even though Elliot had been on the driver’s side in the backseat. No one understood how he hadn’t died. That side of the car was completely smashed in.

  No one understood a lot about that day. Like how Elliot, at twelve years old, had been able to get Damon’s dad out of the totaled car.

  The image of the paramedics carrying a kicking-and-screaming Elliot away from Damon’s dad’s body was seared into his brain. Elliot kept fighting them and shouting about how he could save him, how he could fix him.

  All Damon did was stand there. He didn’t even try to help. He didn’t even check on his mom.

  Elliot had been the one to shake him out of it. He’d wrapped his arms around Damon and apologized over and over. It’d made Damon feel so guilty that, in that moment, he was capable of feeling okay. That he felt better because his best friend was holding him.

  How could anyone feel okay standing only a couple of feet away from their dead father?

  But Elliot always made Damon feel better. No matter what was happening.

  A broken arm.

  A broken heart.

  Elliot could always fix it, or at least, make it easier to bear.

  “We can invite Elliot too,” Damon’s mom said. “I haven’t seen him around in a few days?”

  It was her subtle way of saying she knew he was moping around.

  “We got into a fight.”

  “About what?”

  Damon sighed, cutting the tomato with a gentle hand. Was he supposed to keep it a secret? Had Elliot told his parents?

  Damon worried his lip. “I found out a secret he’d been keeping from me. Kinda forced him to tell me. I don’t think I reacted the right way, and I don’t know how to apologize for forcing him to tell me when I feel like crap that he didn’t tell me in the first place.”

  His mom made a humming noise. “Elliot is a private person,” she said. “Remember how it took him two years before he could answer a question at the dinner table without blushing and stuttering?”

  Damon smiled. He’d forgotten about that. Elliot had been so nervous around his parents. Around any authority figure really. He hated the first day of school because he didn’t know how the teacher would expect him to behave.

  “I thought that I was different,” Damon said. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

  Damon’s mom turned off the stove and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure he wished he could tell you but was scared. Whatever it was, it was probably hard for him to talk about.”

  After they finished having dinner, Damon tried again to type out an apology, but he quickly gave up.

  It was probably better if he did it in person, anyway.

  Chelsea mentioned at lunch that she’d talked to Elliot about asking Madison to prom. Damon had hummed distractedly at first, and then tried to grill her about what else she talked about with him.

  She’d gone into great detail about the plan she’d made for Elliot’s prom-posal. Damon spaced out when he realized she wasn’t going to tell him anything Elliot had said.

  He probably should have paid more attention to Chelsea’s prom-posal plan so he wouldn’t have been so surprised by the scene he stumbled upon as he turned the corner of the hall.

  A crowd gathered around Madison’s locker. There were origami hearts taped to the outside. She plucked an envelope off the locker and cleared her throat, loud enough that everyone in the hall could hear her.

  “Madison,” she read. “Your beauty distracted me all through our lesson on differential equations, but I won’t be upset that you got a better grade than me on our last exam if you go to prom with me?”

  Damon rolled his eyes. Elliot most certainly didn’t get distracted by Madison’s beauty. Sure, Madison was pretty, but even if he hadn’t known Elliot wasn’t into girls, he’d know that this was fake because Elliot didn’t get distracted in class.

  He never, ever, let anyone or anything come between him and a good grade.

  If Madison did get a better grade than he did on his last exam, it was probably the day after Damon stole Elliot’s keys and convinced him to stay over instead of studying.

  Now that Damon thought about it, maybe Elliot was better off without him.

  The crowd parted, and Elliot stood, smiling and leaning near the vestibule with the water fountains.

  He was wearing his usual jeans and beat-up sneakers, but had on a tight red t-shirt that Damon had never seen him wear before. It emphasized his lean frame and gave him a more styled and put-together look. He’d also gotten a haircut so his long blonde hair didn’t cover his blue eyes.