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“Huh,” Andrew says. “And you liked it?”
His eyes stay on the mac and cheese that he’s stirring lazily around in the bowl on his lunch tray. His face is as calm and steady as always.
Neil relaxes. For some reason, he’d been nervous to tell Andrew. Not so nervous that he didn’t blurt it the first chance he got Andrew alone — well, as alone as you can be in a school cafeteria — but enough to feel relief at Andrew’s mild reaction.
“It was fine.”
This makes Andrew glance up. “Fine,” he echoes.
“Yeah,” Neil says, taking a bite of his apple and chewing thoughtfully. “I didn’t mind it. Still wish you’d taken me with you, though.”
“And deprive you of this experience?” Andrew asks, stirring and stirring. The mac and cheese must be too milky again today — Neil pushes the second half of his unfinished sandwich toward Andrew’s tray in offering. Andrew eyes it for a moment before dropping his spoon and picking it up. “Kevin’s a hot commodity, you know. The people will be jealous when this gets around.”
Neil wrinkles his nose at the idea of himself as a source of gossip. It’s true, though; from the moment Kevin showed up at Palmetto High last winter, with a broken hand and a charm that let him get away with everything, many students have tried to gain his favor.
Andrew and Neil weren’t into his whole thing. They’d been new, too — both starting at the beginning of the year — and had bonded at their new student tour by making their peer tour guide, Katelyn, uncomfortable with their lack of enthusiasm. Andrew’s twin brother, Aaron, had made up for their rudeness by licking the floor that she walked on. Andrew and Aaron weren’t that close then. Really, they’d only just met that year, right before their mother died (Andrew likes to call it an “accident,” accompanied by a smug look) and their twenty-year-old cousin, Nicky, took custody of them.
Neil thinks that Nicky is cool, but he’s definitely not the twins’ parent. Not that they really need one. Neil can relate to that. After an… unconventional start to his teen years, Neil moved in with his Uncle Stuart that same summer. Despite being largely absentee (Neil likes to call it “business in New York”), Stuart is obsessed with Neil finishing his last two years of high school with relative normalcy.
Neil is trying. Sort of. Andrew is too. They go to class, they do homework, they bitch about their classmates. It feels like a bit of a game to Neil, or a really long performance. It’s similar for Andrew, Neil knows. That’s why they get along so well. No one has ever understood Neil the way Andrew does.
So, you see, Kevin’s glossy hair and green eyes and perfect posture didn’t appeal to them. But when he joined Neil and Andrew on the Exy team, it turned out that Kevin is actually kind of a cocky asshole. It also turns out that Kevin grew up in some kind of freaky Exy-related cult before he moved in with his dad, so maybe that’s why he sticks around weirdos like Andrew and Neil, even though they frequently call him a cocky asshole.
On this one thing, though, Kevin might have a right to be cocky.
“He definitely knows what he’s doing,” Neil tells Andrew now. “Like, his technique is sound. I thought I’d be more weirded out by the tongue stuff. And there was a bit of over-the-clothes hand stuff, he was good at that too.”
“How would you know?” Andrew asks, ripping the crust off his half of Neil’s sandwich with excessive force. (Andrew really hates crust.) “You barely have anything to compare it to.”
“It was better than the two girls I kissed before,” Neil says. “I think it says enough that I didn’t hate it.”
Andrew scoffs.
Neil raises an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”
Andrew pauses his destruction of the sandwich to fully meet Neil’s eyes. It’s all or nothing with Andrew — either he’s very nearly pretending Neil isn’t there, or Neil gets the full-force of his focus. He should be used to it now, but it always sends a prickle over his skin and a zap to his chest. Neil holds the contact, like he always does. He makes a habit of never being the first to look away.
“Tell me why you think I would be jealous,” Andrew says flatly.
“You said everyone wants to make out with Kevin,” Neil says, shrugging. “Maybe you do too.”
Andrew rolls his eyes. He looks away first when he shoves the majority of the sandwich in his mouth. Neil is not quite ready to stop looking, so he doesn’t.
“You just might be the stupidest person I’ve ever met,” Andrew says through a mouthful of peanut butter.
Neil shrugs, smile tugging at his lips. He’d never smiled much before he met Andrew. He’d never had reason to.
“That’s why you shouldn’t leave me unattended,” Neil says.
This is, after all, Andrew’s fault. He didn’t tell Neil when he left Allison’s party early. That isn’t that unusual — Andrew knows that Neil tolerates their teammates a lot more than he does. Sometimes, Neil actually likes them. And last night was fun, but not as fun as going to Andrew’s to sit on the porch swing and pass a cigarette back and forth until Nicky gets home from work and halfheartedly tries to chastise them for it.
So Neil was left defenseless when Matt proposed Seven Minutes In Heaven, and then resigned to his fate when he ended up on the other end of the bottle from one Kevin Day.
“I think my main takeaway is that Kevin is really, really tall,” Neil muses. “Especially in the confines of a closet. I think kissing would be nicer with someone closer to my own height.”
Andrew stands up then, slamming his empty soda can onto his tray. “I’m going to take a piss before English,” he says.
“Oh,” Neil says, glancing down at his watch in surprise. They’re only halfway through the lunch period. “Okay. See you in Physics?”
Andrew salutes him, then picks up his tray and leaves.
Neil does see him in Physics, but they spend the entire class taking notes off the projector, so he doesn’t really get the chance to gauge Andrew’s mood. That doesn’t stop him from trying — he stares at Andrew in the dim light. Andrew has to notice, but he doesn’t acknowledge him. It’s good that Andrew is paying such close attention to the lecture, because Neil is going to need to copy his notes later.
Practice is more of the same. Andrew plays in a way that almost makes Neil play worse. He’s incredible to watch. More than once, Neil has to shake himself out of a trance to actually run for the ball when Andrew sends it flying up the court for him.
Kevin has a car, so he brings Andrew, Aaron, and Neil to Nicky’s house like he always does. Neil rarely goes straight home after practice when Stuart is away. Their house is nice, but Neil gets twitchy in the quiet. Plus, even when Nicky is working too late to cook dinner, he keeps his fridge stocked with leftovers and frozen meals.
Andrew and Aaron nod their goodbyes and get out of the car, but Neil lingers. He leans up between the seats once the doors slam shut, and says, “Question.”
Kevin turns in his seat to stare at him glumly. “Are you going to be weird about this?”
Neil cocks his head to the side. “Weird about what?”
“Us kissing,” Kevin says. “You said you wouldn’t make it weird.”
“Oh,” Neil says, huffing a laugh. “No. I almost forgot about that.”
Kevin’s eyes narrow. “Too much of a course correct. You don’t need to be fucking rude, either.”
“Sorry,” Neil says, grinning. “Actually, I was wondering if you would ever kiss Andrew.”
“What?” Kevin asks, brows knitting together. “Why?”
“Just curious,” Neil tries, but he’s not as good at lying as he used to be. Especially not to Kevin, who looks entirely unconvinced.
“I’m not going to try anything with Andrew,” Kevin says slowly.
“Even if he wanted to?”
Kevin snorts then. “If you think that’s even remotely a possibility, then there’s no hope for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means get out of my car, imbecile.”
When Neil gets inside, Andrew and Aaron are already in the living room, playing with their phones at opposite ends of the couch. Andrew looks up when Neil comes in, raising his eyebrows.
“Squeezing in round two?” Andrew snaps.
“What?” Neil asks.
Aaron lets out a low whistle, earning a glare from Andrew. Aaron holds his hands up in innocence, then pockets his phone and heads for his bedroom.
When Neil and Andrew are finally alone, Neil sits down next to Andrew on the sofa. He studies the tension in Andrew’s face, the way his jaw twitches.
“What’s up?” Neil asks, concerned.
Andrew sighs, then runs his hand back through his hair.
“Forget I said that,” Andrew says. “Do what you want with Kevin.”
“With…” Neil trails off. Round two. “Kevin and I were just talking. I don’t want to kiss him again.”
“Okay,” Andrew says. “But I still mean it. Do whatever you want. With anyone.”
Neil nods, still confused.
Andrew gives a frustrated huff.
“I’m going to take a nap,” he says.
“Should I go home?”
“Nicky will be back soon,” is Andrew’s only answer as he leaves the room.
Neil does what he wants: he stays. He works on his homework at the kitchen table until Nicky gets home with a trunk full of groceries.
“How about pasta tonight?” Nicky asks as Neil helps him bring bags in. “I’m feeling lazy.”
“I like pasta,” Neil says.
Nicky hauls the last of the bags up onto the kitchen counter, looking around. “Where are the twins?”
“Upstairs.”
“And you’re down here?”
“Andrew is sleeping,” Neil says with a shrug. “I had a lot of math homework.”
Nicky snorts. “Man, I do not miss school.”
Nicky lets Neil help with dinner, even though there’s not much to do. He stirs the pasta every few minutes while Nicky putters around the kitchen, telling Neil stories from his job at the nightclub downtown.
When the food is done, Nicky calls up the stairs to inform the twins. Aaron appears briefly to fill a plate that he carries back up to his room, but Andrew doesn’t even respond. Neil and Nicky eat in front of the TV — Nicky is an Exy fan too, though he and Neil have different tastes in NCAA teams. When they finish, Nicky pulls a few tupperware containers out of the cabinet.
“Wanna go tell Andrew it’s his last chance before this hits the fridge?” Nicky asks.
Neil hesitates. “I don’t think he really wants to see me right now.”
Nicky glances at Neil out of the corner of his eye as he scoops spaghetti. “That’s unusual. What did you do?”
“I don’t know,” Neil says, and it must sound helpless enough that Nicky drops the spoon and turns to Neil.
“If you’re looking for advice, I’m not sure I can give it,” Nicky admits. “I try, but he talks to you far more than he does to me.”
Neil sighs, eyes falling to the floor tiles. Nicky reaches out to ruffle Neil’s hair before returning to the stove.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Nicky says. “He’ll bring whatever it is to you eventually. And if he doesn’t, then I think you’ve earned the right to bully it out of him.”
Once Neil and Nicky have finished cleaning up, Neil grabs his school bag and sits on the front porch swing. The door opens after a while, but it’s only Nicky. He gives Neil a tight smile.
“It’s getting dark,” Nicky asks. “Want me to drive you home?”
“I’d rather walk,” Neil says. It’s only just over a mile to Stuart’s house, and Neil’s hoping the walk will clear some of the nerves building up inside him.
“Text Andrew when you get home,” Nicky says.
“I will,” Neil says, hitching his bag over his shoulder as he stands.
The walk does help, but the unease creeps back in when Neil stands alone in his dark living room and pulls up his text thread with Andrew.
Can you tell Nicky I’m home? Neil types. Also, I’m requesting a sign of life
Andrew sends a thumbs up in response.
The next morning, Aaron gets on the school bus alone.
He drops into his usual seat in front of the bench Neil and Andrew usually share at the back of the bus.
Neil sits up so that he can fold his arms on the back of Aaron’s seat.
“Where’s Andrew?” he asks.
Aaron glances up from where he’s untangling his earbuds. “He left half an hour ago, said he was walking to school today.”
Neil raises his eyebrows. “Why?”
It would take about an hour to make that walk. Andrew rarely does twenty minutes on the treadmill without complaining about it.
“I’d guess he’s still pissed at you,” Aaron says, finally shaking out his earbuds and plugging them into his phone.
“I don’t even know what I did,” Neil says miserably.
Aaron lifts his head to check their surroundings — the bus is pretty empty still, with most of the other students up near the front — before whispering to Neil: “I mean, you did cheat on him.”
Neil blinks. “What?”
“I know it was only a game, but Andrew is pretty possessive of what’s his. You should know that by now.”
“Again: What?”
Aaron rolls his eyes. He turns fully in his seat, sitting cross-legged with his back against the seat in front of him. “You can drop the act. I’m not blind. I know you and Andrew have been sneaking around.”
“We…” Neil pauses, trying to wrap his head around the accusation. “You think Andrew and I are secretly dating?”
Aaron purses his lips. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me, or if you’re actually as much of an idiot as Andrew always says you are.”
“We’re not dating,” Neil says hoarsely. “Why would we hide that, if we were?”
Aaron laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh my god, this is a bigger mess than I thought it was.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nope, I can’t help you with this one,” Aaron says. “I’ve given you enough to think about. Work it out with Andrew, preferably nowhere near me.”
Neil doesn’t have it in him to argue, so he sits back and presses his forehead to the cool bus window. Aaron’s right — Neil has plenty to think about. But he has no clue where to start. There’s the kissing with Kevin, but Neil can hardly see its relevance. Except then there’s the anxiety he felt about telling Andrew. There’s Andrew’s cool reaction, but then there’s his mocking ‘Round two?” comment, and also his insistence that Neil do whatever he wants. There’s Aaron calling him an idiot, and Kevin calling him an imbecile, and Andrew calling him stupid. There’s Nicky saying that Andrew talks to Neil, and there’s the ache in his chest when he thinks about the past twenty-four hours of not really talking to Andrew. There’s that, too: it should be ridiculous to miss Andrew right now. But Neil does.
When Neil gets off the bus, he finds Andrew smoking a cigarette in his usual spot on a brick wall just outside the campus boundaries. He’s slightly pink and splotchy, the hair at his temples damp with sweat. He doesn’t spare Neil a glance when he approaches, but he does pass the cigarette to him. They trade it back and forth until the bell rings, and then Andrew stubs out the cigarette and breezes past Neil toward the building.
The rest of the day is much the same. Neil can’t pay attention when his thoughts swirl and churn like this. It’s worse whenever Andrew is nearby, his presence at once soothing and confusing. Neil can’t stop looking at him, at his soft hair shifting when he turns his head, and his pale eyelashes when they catch in the light, at the small patch of scruff on the underside of his jaw that he must’ve missed shaving this morning.
Neil still doesn’t know what he’s doing when Kevin pulls up to the twins’ house. For a moment, he’s not sure if he’s welcome — maybe he should just have Kevin bring him home. But when Andrew gets out of the backseat, he leaves the car door open. So, Neil follows.
“Tired,” Andrew says, stomping straight up the stairs. Aaron hangs around in the living room today, goading Neil into abandoning homework for video games. He picks one that Neil has never played, probably hoping to tip the scales in his favor, but Aaron should really know better. An hour later, Neil has figured things out enough to put Aaron back in his place.
Nicky is working tonight, so they heat up frozen taquitos in the microwave. On a desperate whim, Neil pours milk into a pot and turns on the stove. He finds the extra rich cocoa mix that Nicky’s boyfriend ships them from Germany — the stuff you can smell from miles away. Aaron snorts when he sees what Neil is doing.
“I’m going upstairs to call Kate,” Aaron says. He hesitates before adding: “As funny as this has been, it’s getting weird. Please fix it.”
Neil nods, frowning.
The smell of chocolate fills the kitchen as Neil stirs. When he takes the pot off the burner, he worries that it hasn’t worked, and he’s wasted Nicky’s good cocoa for no reason. He doesn’t even really like hot chocolate.
But then there’s a creak, and heavy footfalls on the stairs. Neil sighs in relief, then focuses on pouring the cocoa into a mug.
“Do you want whipped cream?” Neil asks when he hears Andrew enter the kitchen.
“Obviously.”
Andrew is leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed when Neil turns around to get to the fridge. The full focus of his attention stops Neil in his tracks for a moment. He does look tired. His hair is mussed from the pillow, but the dark rings under his eyes tell Neil that Andrew hadn’t been sleeping.
Neil adds the whipped cream, then brings the hot chocolate across the room. He’s careful not to let their fingers touch when he hands over the mug. Andrew takes a sip, then hums in approval, his eyes never leaving Neil’s face.
Tugging on Andrew’s sleeve, Neil steps toward the front door. Andrew carries the mug outside, settling in on the porch swing. When Neil pauses, Andrew lets out a heavy sigh and slides more obviously to the side to make room for Neil.
Neil sits. He rocks the swing slowly as Andrew sits cross-legged, finishing his cocoa. Neil stops the swing long enough for Andrew to rest the empty mug on the ground, then resumes the same rhythm.
Andrew doesn’t speak. Neil figures this is his chance to bully out the truth.
“Are we boyfriends?”
Andrew freezes, his stare pointedly stuck on dark street. “Is that a serious question.”
“Aaron thinks we are,” Neil says. “He was convinced we’d been sneaking around.”
“Since when do you take what Aaron says at face value?”
Neil shrugs. “Maybe he has a point. What’s the difference between us and boyfriends? Except for the kissing, I guess. But then I kissed Kevin. And that bothered you.”
Andrew shakes his head firmly. “You are allowed to do whatever you want to do.”
“I know,” Neil says. He cautiously slides his hand across the seat bench toward Andrew’s, their pinky fingers millimeters apart. Andrew looks down at them but doesn't pull away. “It’s just that I never want to do anything that bothers you. That’s pretty high up in my priorities.”
When Andrew doesn’t respond, Neil hooks his little finger over Andrew’s. He watches Andrew’s face for signs of discomfort, but he just keeps his blank gaze on their hands.
“Hey,” Neil says. Andrew finally looks up at him. There are still no tells in his expression, but his attention is unwavering. Prickling skin. Zaps to Neil’s heart. No one has ever made Neil feel like this before.
“Talk to me?” Neil requests. “I don’t like it when you avoid me.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Andrew says. “I’m trying to think about something, and you’re distracting.”
“Maybe I can help you think,” Neil suggests.
Irritation seeps into Andrew’s face, predictably the first form of emotion to sneak through Andrew’s mask. It makes Neil smile. Andrew lifts his free hand to press two fingers against the corner of Neil’s mouth.
“This is what I mean,” Andrew says quietly. He reaches up to Neil’s eyelids next, physically closing them. “Distracting.”
Neil keeps his eyes and mouth shut. He doesn’t want to make things worse. He doesn’t want Andrew to be overwhelmed. He can wait as long as Andrew needs.
“You said we’re basically boyfriends,” Andrew says eventually, his voice tight. “Tell me what that means to you.”
“Can I look at you?”
Andrew huffs, then taps twice next to Neil’s eyelid before dropping his hand.
Neil blinks his eyes open, and Andrew’s face is calm again.
“We spend all our time together,” Neil says. “We don’t keep secrets. We trust each other. At least, I trust you, and I think you trust me.”
Andrew’s jaw twitches, but he nods in confirmation.
“If we were boyfriends, I think we’d just do all that,” Neil says. “Except I wouldn’t do stuff you don’t want me to do. Like kissing Kevin.”
Andrew shakes his head. “I will not prevent you from doing things that you want to do.”
“I already told you. It’s important to me that I don’t hurt you. Because I did, didn’t I?”
Andrew’s eyes flick away briefly, throat working. “I thought that you did not want to kiss people. When that changed, I needed time to think.”
“Think about what?” Neil pushes.
“You are not mine,” Andrew says fiercely. “I don’t have the right to be upset over what you do with other people. And I need to think about how to deal with the fact that I am.”
“But I’m giving you that right,” Neil says. “I think that’s what it would really mean. Boyfriends. For us. It would just mean that I’m your person.”
Andrew’s jaw sets. He finally meets Neil’s eyes, and there’s nothing closed off about Andrew’s face right now. Neil can see him down to his core, to the molten intensity there. Neil wants to move closer. He wants to get lost in that heat.
Andrew swallows. “You already are.”
“You’re mine, too,” Neil says.
Andrew shifts until his warm palm covers Neil’s whole hand on the bench between. Their fingers slot together.
“Boyfriends, then,” Neil decides.
Andrew scoffs. “So juvenile.”
“We are kids, remember?” Neil says, grinning. “Normal teenagers. High school sweethearts.”
“There is nothing normal about you,” Andrew says, and it’s teasing. It’s.. well, it’s normal, isn’t it? For them, anyway. And to Neil, that’s all that really matters.
“Can I kiss you?” Neil asks.
Andrew’s eyes search his face. “Do you want to?”
Neil thinks about Allison’s closet, about Kevin’s lips and hands. It was fine. Neil trusted Kevin not to hurt him. He let himself relax, let himself do things that felt good.
Neil trusts Andrew not to hurt him. More than that: He trusts Andrew to keep him safe. He trusts Andrew to take care of him — to shield him from people out to get him, to pull him to reality when Neil is out to get himself. And Neil wants to do all that for Andrew too. He wants Andrew to feel safe. He wants Andrew to feel good.
Neil drops his eyes to Andrew’s familiar lips, to Andrew’s familiar hand — smaller than Neil’s, but unquestionably stronger. They’re Neil’s favorite versions of lips and hands. All of Andrew is Neil’s favorite.
Making out with Andrew could feel really, really good.
“Yes,” Neil says, injecting as much certainty as he can into his voice. “But only if you want to.”
Andrew’s eyes narrow, lips parting in disgust. “I have never met anyone as fucking stupid as you.”
Before Neil can object, Andrew cradles Neil’s face in both hands and pulls him in.
Andrew’s kiss is rougher than Kevin’s. Less precision, more heat. Neil runs out of comparisons pretty quickly. There’s no point in thinking about anything except the right now: Andrew’s blistering palms, insistent lips, clever tongue. He tastes like hot chocolate, but better. He tastes like something Neil is never going to get sick of.
“Andrew…” Neil says when they part, foreheads pressed together. “That was…”
“Fine?” Andrew suggests. There’s a breathless rasp to his voice that’s making it hard for Neil to focus. This is important, though. Neil gets himself together enough to pull his face back, to let Andrew see that he is deadly serious.
“So much more than fine,” Neil says. His insides swoop again at the way Andrew looks back at him. “That might’ve been it.”
Neil doesn’t really know what it is. But based on the way Andrew’s face softens before he pulls Neil back in for another kiss, Neil thinks that he understands. (No one has ever understood Neil the way Andrew does.)
Being a boyfriend feels a bit of a game to Neil, or the biggest performance of his life. Neil holds Andrew’s hand in the hallway, kisses him when they part for separate classes, takes him to prom. With all of this, he says: Andrew is my person, and I am his. It’s important to Neil that this is an undeniable truth. It’s important that Andrew has no room for doubt.
If it’s a performance, then it’s a fun one. And maybe "normal" life itself is a bit of a performance — playing a role of your choice, showing people who you want them to think you are. Maybe it’s a bit of a game, too. Neil is good at games. He’ll put in the work, he’ll think through the strategy, he’ll rack up enough wins to weather the obstacles.
And at the end of the day, when the curtains close, Neil is still just Neil. He sits on the porch swing with Andrew, passing a cigarette back and forth, and there’s no need to put on a show. They’re just them. They’re just it.