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"Harrington. You're overthinking it."
"It was just a math book. Who gets angry over a math book?"
"Harrington—"
"Did he ask about your test? Like, you said you thought you aced it, so, did he care about that?"
"Steve."
"...For fuck's sake. Fuck!"
"Yeah."
"And he—He thought we were—that I was your—"
"I don't know what the hell he thought."
"But he said—"
"Look, he puts people in a box as soon as he sees them. Especially if he sees them with me."
"...How is that any better?"
"It's not. I'm just explaining what he does."
"You shouldn't have to! ...Sorry. I'm sorry."
"...Thanks for bringing my book. You oughta stay clear of my house for a while, though. Whether he's around or not."
"Billy—"
"We don't really have guests over, so dropping by unannounced is a shit idea. Got it?"
"Yeah, I... got it... Sorry."
"Jesus, stop apologizing..."
"Hey... Does he usually go with that... word... with guys you know?"
"'That word'... He usually goes with worse than 'boyfriend.' But he heard your good boy manners and saw your pretty boy face. And your damn car."
"And all of that meant..."
"Again, Harrington. Unannounced."
"Right..."
"What's really bothering you?"
"He... He bruised your arm, Billy."
"And?"
"And?! Are you fucking with me right now?"
"No, but I think he did. He got into your brain, didn't he?"
"What...?"
"It's fine. You don't have to worry. He saves all his hate of the gays for his own flesh and blood."
"..."
"Don't fucking look at me like tha—The fuck? Are you crying?"
"You... started it. Y'see?"
"...Oh. Well. Now this is gay."
"Shut it, Hargrove. I haven't cried in front of anyone in years."
"Didn't mean to ruin your record."
"Didn't mean to get you hurt."
"...I know, Steve."