at Milo: the way the fading light before dusk changes the tone of his skin; the way the muscles of his arms stand out and his lips curl as he sings along, awfully, to the radio. Milo smiles at him, and Andrew flashes a brief one back, wonders how obvious he’s being, and looks back out the window at the slipping sand that spills onto the road and the ramshackle businesses along the road.
“So what got this bee in your bonnet?” he asks suddenly.
Milo shrugs. “You sound like my grandma.”
“Awesome; I like her. Let’s focus.”
“So... okay.” Milo clears his throat and his fingers tighten on the wheel. “I um, think I have something to tell you. But I’m—”
“Is everything okay?” Andrew interrupts, scanning his memory for any signs of additional distress Milo might have displayed in the last few months.
“Yeah. Well. I mean, um… whatever. But I—”
“What? You’re worrying me.”
Milo sighs and pulls into the parking lot of a restaurant with a giant crab on the roof. “I can’t do this and drive.”
“Okay,” Andrew says slowly, then unbuckles his belt and turns to face him. Milo’s face is a little drawn.
“So, I think I might be gay,” Milo blurts. “I mean, I know. I know I am.”
There’s a full minute of silence in the car while Andrew tries to work the words out. Static screeches in his ears, fleetingly numbing his reaction. Focus . He has a few seconds to control his face, to tamp down that sprout of irrational hope seeding despite the chaos, and be ultimately supportive.
“Um.” Andrew licks his lips and tries to pull himself together. That seedling wants to grow into something bigger, and he can’t let it . He looks at Milo’s face, which has morphed into something more vulnerable and worried. Hope is a hollow bell in his chest, ringing loud and dissonant; he wants to vibrate out of his skin with the inappropriateness of his own reactions. This is about Milo, not him. “You aren’t worried that I’m mad or something, are you?” he manages to say.
“I don’t know. Um, your face is doing... a thing,” Milo replies.
Reflexively Andrew puts his hands to his cheeks. His fingers are cold. Okay, so he definitely doesn’t have his face under control. “No, I... wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” Andrew’s brain, sometimes faster than his mouth, is careening backward. “Maybe I should have had a clue.”
“Oh?”
“Well, for starters, you kissed me back.”
As soon as the words are out, Andrew slaps a hand over his traitor mouth. Talk about mouth working faster than brain, fuck .
“Calm down.” Milo takes his hand. “Breathe.”
“Shut up,” Andrew says weakly, then closes his eyes and sternly orders himself to pull himself together. “Right. So, wrong thing to say. I wasn’t expecting you to come out to me on the road on an impromptu trip to gay Mecca.” His eyes widen. “Oh my god, is that why we’re going? Are you, like, on the prowl?” His volume seems to be working up and not down. He takes another breath. There is definitely a good and bad way to react, and blind jealousy when he’s confronted with huge news that doesn’t actually change the way Milo feels about him is most definitely a bad reaction. Whatever might be growing in his chest, Andrew can’t pin its survival or growth on a few glances shared with a boy in so much trouble.
Milo laughs. “Oh god, no. I was just curious. And I wanted to go somewhere fun with you.”
“Okay.” Andrew orders his face to smile and thankfully, it obeys. He pulls himself together and takes a good long look at Milo. He still looks unsure, and so Andrew does what comes most naturally to him: swallows whatever feelings he’s having and focuses on Milo’s. “Hey, come here.” He pulls Milo into a hug. It’s comforting, if not precisely comfortable over the console and with Milo still buckled in.
“So,” Milo says, taking a breath and clearing his throat, “I know this is dumb, because
“So what got this bee in your bonnet?” he asks suddenly.
Milo shrugs. “You sound like my grandma.”
“Awesome; I like her. Let’s focus.”
“So... okay.” Milo clears his throat and his fingers tighten on the wheel. “I um, think I have something to tell you. But I’m—”
“Is everything okay?” Andrew interrupts, scanning his memory for any signs of additional distress Milo might have displayed in the last few months.
“Yeah. Well. I mean, um… whatever. But I—”
“What? You’re worrying me.”
Milo sighs and pulls into the parking lot of a restaurant with a giant crab on the roof. “I can’t do this and drive.”
“Okay,” Andrew says slowly, then unbuckles his belt and turns to face him. Milo’s face is a little drawn.
“So, I think I might be gay,” Milo blurts. “I mean, I know. I know I am.”
There’s a full minute of silence in the car while Andrew tries to work the words out. Static screeches in his ears, fleetingly numbing his reaction. Focus . He has a few seconds to control his face, to tamp down that sprout of irrational hope seeding despite the chaos, and be ultimately supportive.
“Um.” Andrew licks his lips and tries to pull himself together. That seedling wants to grow into something bigger, and he can’t let it . He looks at Milo’s face, which has morphed into something more vulnerable and worried. Hope is a hollow bell in his chest, ringing loud and dissonant; he wants to vibrate out of his skin with the inappropriateness of his own reactions. This is about Milo, not him. “You aren’t worried that I’m mad or something, are you?” he manages to say.
“I don’t know. Um, your face is doing... a thing,” Milo replies.
Reflexively Andrew puts his hands to his cheeks. His fingers are cold. Okay, so he definitely doesn’t have his face under control. “No, I... wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” Andrew’s brain, sometimes faster than his mouth, is careening backward. “Maybe I should have had a clue.”
“Oh?”
“Well, for starters, you kissed me back.”
As soon as the words are out, Andrew slaps a hand over his traitor mouth. Talk about mouth working faster than brain, fuck .
“Calm down.” Milo takes his hand. “Breathe.”
“Shut up,” Andrew says weakly, then closes his eyes and sternly orders himself to pull himself together. “Right. So, wrong thing to say. I wasn’t expecting you to come out to me on the road on an impromptu trip to gay Mecca.” His eyes widen. “Oh my god, is that why we’re going? Are you, like, on the prowl?” His volume seems to be working up and not down. He takes another breath. There is definitely a good and bad way to react, and blind jealousy when he’s confronted with huge news that doesn’t actually change the way Milo feels about him is most definitely a bad reaction. Whatever might be growing in his chest, Andrew can’t pin its survival or growth on a few glances shared with a boy in so much trouble.
Milo laughs. “Oh god, no. I was just curious. And I wanted to go somewhere fun with you.”
“Okay.” Andrew orders his face to smile and thankfully, it obeys. He pulls himself together and takes a good long look at Milo. He still looks unsure, and so Andrew does what comes most naturally to him: swallows whatever feelings he’s having and focuses on Milo’s. “Hey, come here.” He pulls Milo into a hug. It’s comforting, if not precisely comfortable over the console and with Milo still buckled in.
“So,” Milo says, taking a breath and clearing his throat, “I know this is dumb, because
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