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“You aren’t eating?” Trevor finally asks, his eyebrows raised. I flush slightly and nod towards the dining table in the next room.
“Oh. Sorry. I, uh, I’m a little rusty when it comes to stuff like that.” He scans my face as if looking for something, or maybe like he’s never seen me before.
“Kerry?” he eventually asks hesitantly. I haven’t moved so I wait him out, which seems to fluster him.
“Did you…” He takes a deep breath. “Did you know Carter was gay?” Trevor appears braced for an immediate meltdown.
“Yes. You didn’t?” I ask cautiously, not sure where he’s going with this.
He shakes his head, his eyes full of emotion even though every line of his face is frozen.
“And that bothers you?” I probe, trying and failing to keep the accusation out of my voice.
“That he was gay? No, I mostly don’t give a shit about that. That he couldn’t bring himself to tell me? Yeah, that’s not going down so well.” He looks away while rubbing the back of his neck absently. I try to ignore what that movement does to show off his abs. So not appropriate.
“Well, good. On the first part, anyway. Carter was my best friend and I would have had to at least attempt to whup your ass.” Instead of some kind of sarcastic comment in response, if anything, Trevor looks more upset. “What did you mean you mostly don’t care?”
Trevor opens his mouth to say something and then shuts it again. He paces the length of the small kitchen window a few times before stopping in front of me and pulling out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He eyes it with misgiving before finally extending it to me. “Here.”
I take it but flip it over. Carter’s handwriting is vivid where he wrote out Trevor’s name.
“Trevor. If this is private…”
“It’s not. Or at least it’s only about me, really. I want you to read it. Please.”
Biting my lip, I unfold the paper, watching Trevor turn and brace his arms on the sink, staring blindly out the window.
I read the letter. And blink back tears. Knowing a little how Trevor felt because Carter never mentioned to me he was going in for tests or that he was sick or anything. Trevor must have assumed I knew that part. I keep reading and squeak. Trevor’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t turn around. “But you don’t even like me!” The words escape before I can bite them back.
Trevor turns around, his expression one of astonishment. “How the fuck did you come up with that?”
I ignore the f word because it’s not really aimed at me. He’s genuinely bewildered. And there is way too much to unpack here. I tug Trevor by the hem of his t-shirt because I’m afraid to touch him, but suddenly I’m starving and I need my sandwich.
In the dining room, I push him towards a chair and then go all the way around to the far side of the table. I take a small bite of my tuna sandwich and sigh with relief.
“Let’s deal with one thing at a time. Trevor, I don’t think Carter didn’t tell you because he didn’t trust you. He was just a deeply private person. I mean, did you evertellhim you liked girls?”
Trevor shakes his head with a tiny smile. “Apparently I made it obvious.”
I nod. “Exactly. Carter was comfortable in his own skin, but he didn’t care for people making assumptions about him because of some profile. About how he would vote, or how he should feel on some social issue.”
“I wouldn’t have…”
I shake my head at him with a smile. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t. He wasn’t holding back, Trevor. He simply wasn’t making an exerted effort. There is a difference.”
He still looks ready to protest. “He didn’t tell me he was sick,” I add quietly.
Trevor takes that in. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have…”
“No,” I interject, “I’m glad to know. I’d like to shake him for not letting anyone in, but it was his choice.”
There’s a long pause while I gratefully eat, and then an entirely different tone in Trevor’s voice when he finally speaks. “So about this photo…”
“I don’t know what he was referring to,” I blatantly lie. I know exactly what photo, but I had no idea Carter had ever noticed and really no clue that was his baby brother I was lusting after. Crap. But now I want to examine it in minute detail. It will just have to wait until Trevor disappears again and I can swap it out with something more innocuous.
Except Trevor is on the move. Strolling casually from the small old-fashioned dining room into the living room that fronts the house. He blocks the doorway as if he can sense my need to dart in there and hide the evidence.
I know the minute he spots it, because he lets out a deep chuckle. “Really, Kerry?”
