Page 4

Cool

Cool

Mom set a sandwich in front of me and sat down. I glanced up to the second-floor landing again, for … reasons. My bedroom door was visible, but Brett’s wasn’t from my angle.

I took a big bite of the sandwich before asking, “So, Brett decided to come home instead of going to New Orleans?”

Mom smiled. “Yeah. He said something about waiting until after graduation for that trip.”

“Gonna be really hot down there by then.”

Mom’s reply was halted when the clomping returned to the stairs. She immediately got that certain look as she watched them descend, somehow both loving and exasperated. “You boys can’t just walk down the stairs?” she’d asked Austin and me more than once. Brett and his friend seemed to be in a similar hurry.

“Hey, Mom. I’m going to show Turner the beach.” Brett rounded the corner, barely slowing down as he said it, and his friend came into view behind him.

I’d been in the process of taking another huge, messy bite of my sandwich and nearly choked when I saw him. I don’t know what I was picturing, my image shifting from dairy farmer to generic college gay guy to fraternity rando, but it certainly wasn’t the vision that stood shyly behind my brother.

Turner was shorter than Brett’s six feet, with light-brown hair that fell around his ears and stuck out in all directions. His curls looked like they couldn’t be contained, no matter how hard he tried. He had dark-brown eyes that contrasted with the lighter hair so much that they looked like they were popping, somehow dark and bright at the same time. He lowered his head, turning to the side as he tucked his curls behind one ear, where they most definitely refused to stay. His face was sharply defined, all long lines and high cheekbones, his shy smile and bowed lips making him beautiful. It was like a fucking supermodel was standing behind my bro-dude of a brother.

I don’t think there was ever really a time when I didn’t know I was attracted to guys. When Austin moved to Breakwater Beach and came out to me, I didn’t hesitate to come out right back. He’d said it all defensively as if daring me to be a dick about it. Instead, my heart had soared, having found someone I could truly be myself around.

I’d always also known that some people might not be cool with it. Austin and I didn’t hide with our friends, but I’d always been hesitant around my brother and his friends. No matter that my mom had assured me that my family had my back. He was my older brother, and he and his friends occasionally used slurs when they were joking around with each other.

Then there was my dad, who, unlike Brett, shared a home with me all year round. Even two years later, I just wasn’t sure what to expect where he was concerned. He did tend to have these strong feelings about how his sons’ lives should progress. He was constantly talking about keeping our grades up and where we should go to college, and most frequently, where we should work. That one only had one answer. It was with him, managing hotels and, “making a good living so you can support a family someday.”

I mean, I got the “make a good living and support a family” part, but at fifteen, did I need to have it all figured out? I knew enough about myself to know that I didn’t want to spend my life looking out an office window while barking into a phone. There had to be more to life than that.

Was my dad more distanced from me since I had come out? I couldn’t really say. All we really ever talked about were my grades, my rank on the swim team, and how it would be when I started working for him. He was not going to be happy when he found out about BT&G. Plus, Dad really didn’t like Miss Anita, and I’m sure he thought the toy store was frivolous or whatever.

I wished it was easier to be around my dad. Austin’s dad was so open, and fun. With Austin and Mr. Martin, I could talk about whatever. He tried really hard to relate to us and never made me feel like I couldn’t just be me.

My family, on the other hand, was not great at talking things out, much as mom tried, which is why it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that Brett showed up, unannounced, with a gay friend in tow.

As if gagging on my sandwich in front of the hottest guy I’d ever seen wasn’t enough, I tried really hard to play it off in front of Mom and Brett, swiping my soda can and hiding behind it.

“Oh, hey, Shorty. You okay there?” Brett laughed. “This is my friend Turner. Turner, Dalton. Dalton, Turner. So, dinner tonight at the Three B’s, right? We’ll meet you there. This guy’s never seen the ocean! Can you believe it? I’m gonna take him Christmas shopping. Some stores are open on the boardwalk, right?”

“A few,” my mom assured him. “The toy store’s open. Stop in and say hi to Anita.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brett yelled, heading toward the front door. He turned to look at me. “What should I get you for Christmas at BT&G, Shorty?”

“Ha-ha, Brett. Very funny,” was the closest I could come to a sick burn while I was still half choking on turkey and soda and taking in the walking billboard trailing shyly after my asshole of a brother.

“Asshole!” I added.

“Language,” my mother and Brett said in unison.

When he glanced my way, Turner’s look was sympathetic. His eyes smiled while his perfectly bowed lips turned down. The boulder that settled in my stomach had nothing to do with the food I had shoved in my mouth. I held his gaze and took another sip of my soda, which did nothing to loosen the knot in my stomach.

Brett turned and shoved a jacket in Turner’s face.

“Come on, man.”

With that, Brett and Turner were gone while I sat there stupidly, my mouth full and my heart racing like I’d just hopped off my bike. Ugh! I’d sounded so stupid and immature, and my brother had called me “Shorty,” twice, like I was some kid and not the burgeoning, job-holding man that I, as of that day, was.

Chapter Two

Turner at Twenty-Two