Birthday(21)

Jasmine stares at me for a long time. I feel like I might sink into the forest around us, just disappear. But then she smiles and slaps her forehead.

“That’s just my luck,” she says softly. I wonder what she’s talking about, but then a laugh escapes her throat.

“What is?”

She looks at me with the sincerest amusement, shakes her head, and sighs.

“Of course the first boy I ever kiss is gay.”

I start to protest, but then she pulls me in for a hug, so I hug her back and consider if she’s right. Could I be gay? Could all these weird, painful feelings I’ve had over the past … whole life be solved like that? Gay. I mean, it’s not like the idea hasn’t occurred to me before, but it’s different hearing it from someone else. I’ve even looked at gay porn once, when Dad wasn’t home, but the video I found of two muscular dudes growling and pounding each other made me feel kind of wrong and unwelcome.

It just doesn’t feel quite right, like a shirt put on backward or a radio tuned to a grainy station. Thinking of guys has never given me a … turned me on. I mean, I’ve only ever touched myself on four occasions, and honestly it was just … strange. Not good strange. It just means I have to think about that whole aspect of my anatomy, which twists my stomach. But I could never say any of that to Jasmine, so I just shrug. “I don’t think I am. I don’t know…”

“That’s okay,” Jasmine says. “My aunt Sofia said it took her some time to figure it out.” She pulls back and I release the breath that was caught in my chest.

“Okay, well, I should really get going—I don’t want to miss Eric, so—” I move to get up.

“Be honest,” she says with a smile. “You like Eric, right? Or, I mean, are you like with Eric? Like a secret forbidden love thing? You can tell me.”

“What! No, I—”

But my mind flashes. Eric with his shirt off at the pool. Eric walking in on me in nothing but a towel. Eric hovering over me that time I fell from the tree. Eric smiling up at me after the game, his face boyish and handsome, even with the dirt all over it. Eric’s body, strong and warm, next to mine in bed, more difficult to ignore at each sleepover. These thoughts and more rush up, causing all my speech neurons to misfire. I tell myself that it’s only Eric, only because we’re so close.

“I won’t tell anybody,” she whispers. “I promise.”

Jasmine watches me carefully. She’s wrong, because she has to be wrong, but … I don’t know what to really say, how to tell her the truth of what I really feel.

“I’m not sure.” I sigh, realizing I’m not going to win this battle. “Just … can we not talk about this anymore?” I stand on shaking legs and swat dead leaves from my jeans.

“Okay,” she says. She squeezes my hand and we start to walk back to the house. Jasmine must sense how tense I still am because she bumps my hip with her own.

We step into the clearing and the first thing I see, like the universe is either mocking me, doing me a favor, or both, is Eric.

Eric is here.

Eric, who’s not even supposed to be at this party. He has one foot up on a log, like some kind of conqueror, with his curly blond hair chaotically erupting from the bun he keeps it in. I watch in shock as he chugs from a can, chin high, while a group of jocks and cheerleaders chant their support.

“Well, well, well,” Jasmine says. She pokes me in the ribs. “Look who it is.”

I rub my forehead but can’t help smiling.

Jasmine’s hand escapes from mine. “You should go over there.” She gives me a tiny, sideways grin then takes off, back toward the house. As if. There’s no way I’m going over there. The only things stopping those idiots from grinding my head into the dirt are the fact that my dad’s their coach and the abundance of witnesses. I sigh and start to shuffle past the bonfire, my head down. Jasmine shoots me a thumbs-up and winks.

“Morgan!” Eric calls out. I freeze and look up to see him spike the now-empty can on the ground and barrel across the yard toward me. I don’t know whether to dodge or meet him in the middle so I just laugh nervously and hold my arms out wide. He collides with me like an especially gentle freight train, wrapping his arms under my armpits and lifting me, swinging me around like a rag doll.

“Happy birthday!” he says.

I can’t help but laugh at first, but then the strength of his arms registers, and the faint smell of sweat on him, and I notice how my legs are kicking, how my laugh is a little too delighted, how I’m blushing and my neck tingles, and … and …

Fuck.

Maybe Jasmine is right.

Maybe I am gay?

Eric loses his balance and falls back, landing with a breathless gasp and me on top of him. I brace myself on his chest to see if he’s all right, and his breath comes back with a laugh as my hair falls around our faces, blocking out the whole world. I feel his leg move against mine and realize we’re tangled together, and the more I try not to think of it the more I do. I pull my hair behind my ear and something in that gesture gets his attention. Our gazes lock and I can’t not notice how fast his heart is beating against my palm.

“Gay!” somebody yells from across the yard. I don’t even know if they’re yelling about me, about us, but my face turns hot and I shoot to my feet.