Thomas Collins was pacing. He never paced. Never in his seventeen years on earth had he been so anxious that he needed to pace. And yet, there he was. Walking back and forth in his living room, hands stuffed in his pocket, feet dragging on the floor.
Roger was coming over soon. Normally Tom would be happy about that, but not today. He and Roger had been best friends for as long as either of them could remember. Living next door to each other, the only children on their block, they had formed a fast, strong friendship. But today, Roger was coming over to try to set up a double-date. He was going out to dinner with his girlfriend, and her cousin was in town. Roger thought it would be perfect if the four of them went together.
"Perfect if she was a guy," he muttered to himself, still pacing.
No one knew Tom's secret. He'd managed to keep it to himself since he realized he wasn't attracted to girls the way he thought he was supposed to be. He'd even joined the football team, believing that would make him seem straight to everyone else. Yet, some days, he felt as though there was a blazing neon sign hovering above his head that read 'FAG' in big pink letters. He knew he didn't look like a 'typical' gay man, but he sure felt like one, and he often thought others could see right through his façade.
The issue of dating had never really come up. Tom had kept himself busy with football and schoolwork, even tutoring elementary school kids on the weekends so he'd have an excuse if he was ever asked out. Today, though, Tom had no excuse. No place to be. No reason to decline. Well, no reason anyone else knew about.
Roger would be there in just a few minutes, and Tom didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure if he was ready to come out to his friend, yet he wasn't the kind of person who could lead someone on like that. Roger loved girls. It sometimes turned Tom's stomach the way he would play them. He seemed to have a new girl each week, and yet none of them realized what he was doing. But not Tom. He simply couldn't do that to anyone.
He knew his only way out was to tell Roger the truth. In all honesty, he had wanted to be able to talk to him about it for a long time, but the timing had never seemed right. Now, he felt like he had no choice. He had to tell Roger, so Roger wouldn't force him to go on this date. His stomach was in knots at the idea of telling him. Would he understand? How would he react? As close as they were, this might just be too much for him. Liking guys? Tom could see him in his mind's eye, cringing with disgust and backing away from him, as though he could catch Tom's gayness.
A knock at the door brought Tom out of his thoughts and he stopped pacing, face paling. Roger was there. He was going to have to tell him. Moving quickly to the door, he swung it open, trying to smile at his friend as though nothing was wrong.
"Hey man," he said, then moved into the living room. Roger flopped onto the couch, and Tom went to get them both a drink. Handing Roger his, he sat down beside him, leg bouncing nervously.
Roger didn't seem to notice. He was wrapped up in his own world, a sly grin on his face.
"You should see this girl, Tom," he said, excitement in his voice, "She's hot! Blonde, gorgeous figure – if you know what I mean," he brought his hands to his chest to show Tom the size of her breasts, winking.
Tom tried to chuckle, but couldn't do it. This was exactly why he didn't want to go. He just didn't see girls that way. He wasn't interested in their hair or their breasts. It wasn't what he was looking for in a partner. Taking a deep breath, he started to speak, knowing it had to be done now.
"Listen, Roger, I -"
"And you should see her ass!" Roger interrupted, whistling in appreciation.
Tom shook his head, trying again, "Roger, I need to -"
"You're gonna love her, man!" he continued, turning to face Tom with a crooked smile on his face. The smile faded only slightly when he saw Tom's face, and he finally registered that his friend was trying to talk to him. "What?"
"Roger, I can't do this. This date, I mean," Tom said, voice a little shaky.
"Why the hell not?" Roger exclaimed, "Don't worry man. I didn't tell her you've never been on a date before. Just be yourself, and she'll never know the difference."
Tom's brow furrowed. "It's not that. I don't care about that. I just can't go on this date… with a girl…"
Roger looked at him curiously. "Who else would you go with? Dani really wants her to come. It wouldn't look good if you brought someone else."
Tom let out a frustrated sigh. This was turning out to be even harder than he had expected, and it didn't help that Roger wasn't getting it.
"Roger. I can't go on a date with a girl. With any girl," he said slowly, "I don't like girls."
Roger stared at Tom for a moment, trying to register what he had said. "Tom? What do you mean, you don't like girls?"
Tom nearly laughed out loud at the expression on Roger's face. He simply couldn't comprehend the idea of not liking girls, not wanting to be with girls. He would have laughed, too, if he wasn't so nervous.
"I'm gay, Roger," he said simply, staring at his friend intently, waiting for him to get up and leave in revulsion.
But he didn't. Roger simply sat there, regarding Tom with an expression that bordered on awe. He stared for a long while, and Tom began to squirm uncomfortably, wanting him to say something. To do something. Anything. At this point, even running away screaming would have been preferable to the stare he was currently receiving.
"That explains a lot," Roger said finally.
Now it was Tom's turn to look confused. "What do you mean by that?" he asked defensively.
Roger grinned a little, then shrugged. "Just explains why you've never gone on a date. Why you chose to tutor on weekends. Never could understand that."
It wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting, nor was it the reaction he'd been hoping for, but Tom couldn't have been happier. Roger wasn't leaving. He wasn't judging him. He was just… being Roger.
"You mean… you're okay with this? With… me?" he asked, still half-expecting him to start cringing at any moment.
Roger shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? Tom, you're still you. You just happen to like guys." He shrugged again before continuing. "Doesn't matter to me."
Tom felt an immense sense of relief wash over him and finally allowed himself to smile
"Thanks, man," he said softly.