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"I'm from Austin, so it's just like three and a half hours."
"Oh, easy drive then," I say dumbly.
He nods again, and the silence is awkward.
"What about you?" He asks, throwing me a proverbial bone.
"Nah, too far, and my mom's going to be working, anyway. I'm going to stay around here, I think."
"I heard the big cafeteria in the Student Union does a Thanksgiving dinner; with a turkey and everything, whole shebang."
"Good to know," I say, looking at my feet.
"Whatever it is, just ask," Luke says, perceptive as ever.
His new darker rimmed glasses make him look like even more of a nerd than his vintage Nintendo t-shirt, but it works for him. He's a decent-looking dude. My eyes roam over his body, wondering if he's as skinny as he looks. Even when I was on the thinner side, I still had definition. I bet he does, too. But nothing about him interests me, or calls to me the way Bryant does.
I've been… experimenting. Not trying anything with anyone, just looking at other men, their bodies, trying to gauge if they were attractive to me. There's a lot of free-swinging dicks in the locker room, but not once have I caught sight of one and had my mouth water the way it does when I see him. I tried to watch gay porn, and while it did get me hard, I think it's only because it was giving me ideas for things to try with Bryant, not because it was two dudes going at each other. It was the same when I watched straight porn and lesbian porn.
"Did you have a question, or are you trying to read my mind?" Luke asks pointedly.
I huff out a breath, shaking my head. I don't even know how to start, and it's too awkward.
"Uh… Is your boyfriend going home with you?"
"What?"
"You know, for Thanksgiving? Is your boyfriend going?"
"Oh. No, he's going back home to see his own family. We're going to meet up after, though."
"Oh. Cool."
The silence is agony. I shuffle in my seat.
"Listen, we can just tell them we stayed the whole time?—"
"Jack," Luke levels me with a glare. "Just fucking ask. You've had something to say to me for months. Just come out with it. I promise I won't get offended, and if it crosses a line, I'll say so. Just get it off your chest already."
I swallow, suddenly feeling sweaty. My voice shakes, and I stutter, barely getting out, "I, uh, I?—"
"Fuck, Jack." He leans forward. "Are you trying to come out right now?" he whispers, kind concern etched on his features.
"What? No! Of course not. Why would you—" I stop myself. Protesting this much is way too fucking obvious, and I don't want him to think I'm a homophobe. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay?—"
"You're just not."
"Right."
"Right."
"But…" I hesitate again, unsure how to ask what I want. "Can you, you know, be gay for just one person? But not anyone else?"
Luke's eyebrow raises, and he looks at me pensively. "Yeah, I guess."
"What do you mean, you guess?"
"I just mean that, well, sexuality is a spectrum, a wide array, really. There's no one way to be. It's not as black and white as that. Some people are only attracted to one gender, or people who present as one gender. Others are maybe attracted to everyone under the sun. And for some it's not about the parts they carry, it's more about who the person is."
