Boys of West Denton ✓

chapter eight

Sebastian

I hate seeing Evan and Rachel together, but normally, it doesn't really get to me. Maybe it's because I'm usually with Saanvi (who's the queen of distracting me when I get in my own head), or because I only ever see them in passing at school, but seeing their PDA in the booth was a bit much. I mean, she was feeding him fries while Harris was ordering. Does that not seem like a little bit much to anyone else?

It was sweet of Harris to suggest sitting outside, I will say. It was obvious he thought I might be too uncomfy around Evan. He was right about that. I wouldn't have anticipated his being perceptive like that, but I also don't suppose I tried too hard to hide it.

We're sitting out on the black picnic table at the side entrance to Paco's. There's no one here right now, but the table and benches are covered in drops of ice cream and french fry salt. I'm just grateful to be alone with Harris right now.

It was honestly jarring, walking in and seeing Evan there. Why, today of all days, is he getting to me like this?

But seeing him with Rachel ... it always stings, just a little. We broke up after a month-long saga of "I want to tell people we're together, you're my boyfriend" from Evan, who was just as closeted as I was but was willing not to be, and a whole lot of "Evan, my parents do not say yay to gay" from me, who was—and is—very comfortable in the closet. He'd shut down and shut me out not too long before the break up. Which was followed by complete radio silence afterward, because of course it was.

"You not gonna eat that malt?"

I sit up straighter. "Huh? Sorry."

Harris sits on the bench across from me, sitting crisscrossed with his knees pulled up high, amusingly close to his armpits. "You're good. Don't worry about it."

He's using his straw for his shake; I opted for one of Paco's iconic pink spoons. They're a funky fuchsia, one that seems too bright for any of the food they serve, but the shade of pink that they are is admittedly somewhat happiness-inducing.

I take a spoonful of malt. It's mostly runny by this point. I don't care, though. It's more about taste than anything, and with the rich chocolateness flavor with the thickness of the malt powder, I would have a Paco's chocolate malt's babies.

"Are you sure you're good?" Harris asks.

"Yeah. Just ... Evan and I have some history."

"Oh." Harris's eyes widen. "Wait, you guys were together?"

"How did you know that?" My chest tightens. Did I just accidentally out Evan? I thought I was perfectly vague.

Harris swirls his straw around inside the red and white cup. "Because Evan's bisexual, and sometimes when two gay guys in a small town are lonely together very much, they—"

"How did you know?" I repeat.

He gives me a pointed look. "Sometimes, when two gay guys are lonely together very much, they—"

"You and Evan had—"

"No, no, not us, not us." He clears his throat. "Evan and Liam."

I feel myself blink for too long, but it's like I've lost control of my facial expressions. Because, like, okay, huh?

"When?" I ask.

"Ummmm.... Late December, I think? Right before Evan and Rachel got together."

And now I'm sitting there on the bench, my skin crawling, my body frozen. "You're sure it was December?"

"Yeah." He nods. "That's why me and Liam broke up for the last time. They'd been talking for, like, a month."

"He cheated on you?"