Becoming Simon Spier

by someofthissomeofthat310

Nick and Abby tell Simon about their plans to take him out during lunch in between dress rehearsals. Garrett hears and invites himself and Bram.

Becoming Simon Spier

Summary: Nick and Abby tell Simon about their plans to take him out during lunch in between dress rehearsals. Garrett hears and invites himself and Bram.

"Okay, it's official. You are way too hot right now not to flaunt it," Abby compliments. It's as much a testament to her makeup skills as it is about how I look right now, so I accept it. "We've got to do something tonight and show you off."

I glance down at the table embarrassed. I've been attracting a lot of attention since we entered the cafeteria. I'm flattered and a little weirded out by it. I don't know how this good-looking version of me fits in with the new Simon. I'm definitely not going to start walking around wearing mascara, but I feel weirdly confident right now. Since I've come out, I feel like everyone around me is relearning who I am. The problem is, I feel like I'm doing the same.

"It does bring out your eyes. I never noticed how grey they are," Leah adds. "I'll bet no guy will be able to take his eyes off of you."

"My mom's in DC this weekend," Abby pitches in. "We should all go out tonight and then we can break out the good stuff back at my place."

"The good stuff?" Garrett interjects. "I've got an older brother if you need me to hook you up."

Abby studies him for a moment. "What's the catch?" She asks.

"Me and Greenfeld are invited," Garrett says. I'm a little surprised by this. Aside from Nick, I don't think any of us have spent much time with Bram or Garrett, and even Nick doesn't see them outside of soccer.

Bram looks like he's about to protest, but Garrett looks at him with this weirdly meaningful look and then glances at me. I don't realize that I'm staring until Garrett smiles at me; then I hastily look away from him and I end up staring at Bram until he ducks his head. I know, it's a problem. It's like I don't know how to not stare. And they're really good friends so I kind of feel like I'm intruding on a private non-verbal conversation between them.

Garrett and Abby seem to have this weird conversation made up of eye contact and really big hand gestures that ends with Abby looking like she won the lottery. I can see from Leah's confusion that I'm not the only one that has no idea what just happened. In any case, Bram stares at the table the rest of lunch and doesn't argue when Garrett successfully invites both of them to be a part of our nighttime adventures.

Abby says she doesn't mind if all of us stay the night and before we leave to head back to the auditorium for our second performance, we figure out how the ride situation is going to work. With Bram and Garrett joining us, there are too many people to fit in one car. I think Abby is trying to pawn me off on Garrett or Bram because she says that she'll pick up Leah and Nick if Garrett and Bram can give me a ride. It kind of bothers me, but I guess it's nice that she cares.

Garrett apparently lives really close to Bram, so they decide Bram will pick him up first then will come to get me. I give Garrett my number so he can let me know when they're on their way.

Abby and I have just walked through the curtains backstage when Ms. Albright intercepts me. I follow her to the dressing room, and I'm confused when I see Martin slouched in one of the chairs. Did she find out about the blackmail? Is this some kind of mediation? Because if it is, well no offense to Ms. Albright, but I think it's a little freaking late for that.

Turns out it wasn't a mediation. Someone changed Martin's and my cast names to Fag and Fag's boy respectively. I probably would have laughed when Martin didn't get it at first, but I was too freaking angry with him. It doesn't help that when Ms. Albright leaves us, Martin tries to apologize and I REALLY don't want to hear it. I don't know what to do with anything that just happened.

I'm sitting backstage and Abby's holding my hand while Ms. Albright talks to everyone about tolerance. It's not even the 'gross act of vandalism' that Ms. Albright's currently talking about that has my head spinning and makes me feel like I could throw up at any moment. It's what I'd realized when I'd been looking for Abby after Ms. Albright broke the news.

Someone clearly thinks Martin is gay. His first name is the same as a president. I'd thought we'd outgrown the whole be-mean-to-the-person you like crap, but it would explain a lot. Did he blackmail me to get closer to me? Out me to make things move a little faster? Turn his back on me to make me want him more?

No. It doesn't make any sense. It can't be him. It just can't be. But a little voice in my head keeps asking, but what if it is him? Is that who the new Simon is? Someone that can be deceived and tricked so easily? Someone who is so oblivious I don't realize my blackmailer is my Bl-

NO! No, I will not go there. I can't, I just can't. I think if I allow myself to fully form the thought then it will be true and I desperately need it not to be him.

By the time the performance is over, I am almost desperate to go out tonight. When I get home, I lay on my bed and stare at my ceiling until my phone rings. I have no idea how I'm supposed to feel right now.

"Hey, Garrett?" I guess.

"Actually, it's Bram," a soft voice says. "My car was making a weird noise, so Garrett's driving. We'll be at your place in five minutes."

"Thanks."

I quickly pack an overnight bag and call my mom to let her know what I'll be doing tonight. I leave out the part about "the good stuff" that we plan on breaking out, so my mom agrees readily enough.

I feel so constricted in my house and even Bieber can't calm me down, so I'm sitting on the steps that lead to our porch before Garrett and Bram even pull into my driveway.

"You had a pretty weird day, huh?" Garrett asks on our way.

"That might be the understatement of the freaking century," I mutter. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Yep," he says. "Abby gave me the rundown of the whole night." He has this weird look in his eyes, but I don't think too much of it because, quite frankly, it's not the strangest thing that's happened today and I don't have it in me to care about whatever strange plans Abby's concocted. What that look tells me is I'm going to get drunk tonight. It took one beer to get me a little drunk on Halloween and tonight I have no reservations. I don't know if that's a good thing, but I also don't know that I care. I think this new Simon is literally out of shits to give.

We end up going to a bunch of little shops. I never really go into Midtown and I didn't know what I was missing out on. It's noisy and warm and smells like warm chocolate. It's hard to be upset about anything when I'm surrounded by so many carefree people.

After a couple of hours, Abby tells us we have reservations at this restaurant. I don't know when she had time to make reservations, but it's a really good thing she did because the parking lot is literally overflowing when we get there. There's nowhere to park, so we end up following Abby down a side street where she parallel parks like it's nothing.

Garrett's a different story. Even with Abby and Nick giving him instructions, it takes Garrett about ten attempts to get close enough to the curb that Abby doesn't scream at him. She can be very colorful when she's angry. We walk up to the restaurant and I stop dead when I see the rainbow flags in the window. "Is this a gay bar?" I ask incredulously.

Abby's grin is answer enough. "Technically, it's a gay restaurant that happens to have a bar inside," she clarifies. "For obvious reasons, we won't be spending much time at the bar, but I thought it would be good for you to come here."

I follow her inside and am immediately overwhelmed. There are a lot of REALLY attractive guys in here, like breathtakingly attractive. I never knew how great a scarf could look on a guy and now I feel like I want to invest in a million scarves. It takes me a minute to realize that some guys are looking at me. The looks I'm attracting make me blush because I see more than a few guys do a double-take. Abby laughs at my expression. "You look like you're in the most magical place on Earth," she teases.

"It's like a gay Disney World," Garrett adds. He nudges Bram, who fidgets uncomfortably. I can't even imagine what's going through Bram's head right now. He's quiet and shy in the best of times. He must feel so out of his element right now.

We're seated a few minutes after we arrive and we have to squeeze in between throngs of people to follow our waiter, who is also ridiculously good looking I might add. Except, he's kind of a pretty good-looking; almost like he's too perfect. He looks like he should be in a commercial instead of asking us what we'd like to drink. I can't help but look around as he takes our orders. It's kind of like God summoned every cute gay guy in Georgia to this restaurant… though he may also hate that this exists. I don't know. I'm a little foggy on how religion and gayness fit together.

After we place our orders, I feel the overstimulation of the restaurant bubble up in me. The innuendos and the fact that, for once, I don't feel like the only gay guy and our impossibly pretty waiter… it's all too much. "I'm going to the bathroom," I say quickly.

I practically book it to the bathroom. I don't have to go, and it's almost as crowded in here as it is outside. I find myself in front of a sink and splash cold water on my face in the hope that it will help calm me down.

As I'm drying off my face, I hear a strange noise coming from one of the stalls. I'm pretty sure my face is on fire when I realize what it is. I didn't know people did that in real life. I run from the bathroom and get turned around several times as I'm trying to find my way back to our table.

This really cute guy with an earring, a checkered scarf, and these soft blue eyes that you could probably swim in comes to my rescue. It's obvious to me that he thinks I'm a college student when he buys me a drink. It's this bright green drink that tastes like apples. I wonder if he realizes I'm underage because the drink doesn't taste like there's any alcohol in it. Maybe that's a coincidence because when I'm halfway through the drink, he buys two shots, one for each of us and looks at me expectantly. I down my drink and he passes me the shot.

I've never taken a shot before and I suddenly remember that I got drunk off of a single beer at Garrett's Halloween party. The drink I just had may or may not have had alcohol in it so I thought I would be okay.

He has to show me how to take the shot and it kind of tastes like orange soda. It's not bad and once again I wonder if there's any alcohol in it, so when he buys me another shot, I down it in one gulp. "I'm Peter," he says, speaking for the first time. "And you are…" Isn't that the million-dollar question? Who am I?

"Who the hell knows?" I ask.

I don't think Peter realizes I'm serious because he starts laughing. "I like you. What's your name?"

"Simon," I tell him.

"Cute Simon," he says with a big grin. He buys two more shots. I'm a pro at this now. This shot burns the entire way down and it causes my eyes to tear up. I think it's poison, but Peter doesn't react, so I do my best not to show how bad it is.

I talk to him for a couple of minutes. He's freaking hilarious and makes me forget all about my identity crisis. Just as he's suggesting that I come and sit with him and his friends, Bram comes up to us.

"Hey," he says. There's a really weird look in his eyes, but I'm barely paying attention to that. Maybe it's the alcohol but, for the first time, I notice that Bram is… adorable. No, not adorable; he is hot, like drop-dead gorgeous hot. Even without a scarf, he's easily hotter than any other guy in the restaurant. Nope, nope, nope. New Simon cannot fall for straight guys. I need to set that barrier right from the start. No straight guys… but he's so cute. And there's no harm in looking, right? "We were wondering where you got to."

I glance where he pointed and I see all of our friends shooting us anxious looks. I guess our food had been brought out. More time must have passed than I thought because Nick's already halfway through his burger. I think Bram is a weird choice to come to my rescue, but I'm not exactly complaining.

There's something almost possessive in his look, something Peter picks up on immediately. "Sorry," he says. He puts his hand up defensively. "I didn't realize." Peter backs away and it almost looks like he's scared of Bram. But how can anyone be scared of Bram? He's like this adorable, hot… No Simon, just no. Straight guys are off-limits.

I don't understand anything that's happening and I stumble a little as I follow Bram back to our table. I guess there was alcohol in the shots because the world is moving faster than I am and it takes me a minute to figure out how to sit down.

I don't realize until I take a bite of my cheeseburger that everyone is staring at me. "What?" I ask. Except my voice sounds weird and fuzzy to me.

"How much did you drink?" Nick asks. He looks surprised and I guess I can't blame him. This is pretty surreal and is nothing like the old Simon. I try to count on my fingers, but I get distracted by how weird fingers are. They're just like these appendages that grow out of our hands so we can grab stuff. "Actually, I don't want to know. Please, just eat something." It's a good thing he doesn't want to know because I'm not sure. How do you know how much alcohol you drank when nothing tasted like alcohol? Maybe I'm not drunk on alcohol, but just drunk on this moment. Garrett was right. This is my gay Disney World.

"I love it here," I say happily. I'm pretty convinced now that there is a God and that he is making up for years of people being homophobic in the name of religion. That's got to be it because there's no other way this magical place would exist.

"You don't say," Abby says dryly.

Suddenly there's a french fry in my mouth and as I chew, I wonder how it got there. I don't remember putting it there. I figure it out when Bram shoves another fry in my mouth. I guess they're taking turns, because once I swallow that one, Leah gives me another one. Part of my brain thinks I should be embarrassed that they're feeding me, but that part of my brain is fuzzy and is really easy to ignore. Plus, there's something nice about cute Bram feeding me french fries.

UGH. I never learn, do I? I am really and truly screwed if I start calling him cute Bram. I look around the restaurant until I see this really cute guy. He glances at me then looks away with a smile on his face. He's no Bram, but he's cute. And he'll be distracting.

But can I actually talk to a complete stranger? The old Simon never would have, but this is my opportunity to redefine who I am. Everyone else is certainly learning who I am now that I'm out. Plus, I managed with Peter. I can totally do this. I've just made up my mind that I'm going to go and talk to him, because why not? I've turned to scoot out of the booth when someone puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Bram and my confusion only deepens. Why him? Why is he the one that's stopping me? Why is he even here? This isn't normal for us. He and Garrett do their own thing. Nick, Leah, Abby, and I do our own thing. Why are they doing this? And tonight of all nights.

I don't expect my anger, but here it is. "Where are you going?" he asks gently.

As quickly as it came, it's all gone. I can't be mad at Bram. HE didn't invite himself here. HE probably didn't make the choice to bring me back to my table. HE's this quiet kid that has no idea how much he's messing with my head right now.

It occurs to me that this is all Garrett's fault! I can be mad at Garrett. He's the real reason Bram is here. I'm sure Bram didn't want to say no to his best friend.

I smile to myself. Yes, this is all Garrett's fault. So, if I do anything stupid tonight like tell Bram how freaking cute he is… well, that will be Garrett's fault too.

I slide back into the booth and rest my head against the padding. "Nowhere," I whisper. I look at him and he quickly looks down at the table. I don't know what he ordered, but his plate is empty so it must have been good.

Abby and Leah are holding me up as we walk out of the restaurant. Despite my shitty mood earlier, I feel like I'm on top of the world right now. Everyone seems extra friendly tonight and I say hi to everyone we pass.

When we get back to Garrett's car, Bram sits in the back with me and Garrett hands him a plastic bag.

"You are not allowed to vomit in my car," he warns.

"I'm not gonna vom." Except I'm not so sure, because now my stomach is lurching and the two shots I took are seeming more and more like a really bad idea. I'm practically laying down in Bram's lap, but he's not complaining, and I'm certainly not complaining. I think he's more afraid that I'm gonna throw up on him than anything. "Where are we going?"

"Abby's place," Garrett tells me.

"But I forgot my shirt," I realize. I sit up straight. Once my head doesn't feel like it's going to spin off my body like a top, I keep going. "I need my shirt. Can you take me to my place?"

"That's the opposite direction. And I always have a few extra shirts in my trunk. You can sleep in one of them."

"Nooooooo," I whine. "I don't sleep in it. I sleep on it."

"What?" Garrett asks. I can't see his face, because it's dark, but I like to imagine that he is one of those people that looks confused with his whole face. He just seems like that kind of person.

"It's not for wearing. That would be so weird. I sleep with it under my pillow," I explain.

"And that's not as weird as wearing it?" Bram asks curiously.

I frown. Why would I wear the shirt? Then I realize they don't know why it's important. "It's special. Too special to wear. It's an Elliott Smith t-shirt. You know, he stabbed himself when we were five. Allegedly at least. I'm not convinced," I babble. And then, because despite my best attempts not to think about Blue and how Martin is probably Blue and how he's doing it as a cruel and twisted joke, and also because for whatever reason, I'm thinking a lot about God tonight, I ask, "I wonder if he's in an afterlife. Do Jewish people believe in heaven?"

"Bram, I'll let you take this one," Garrett says.

I turn so my back is pressed against the door. "You're Jewish?" I ask.

Bram looks like his head is spinning. "Have you kept this shirt under your pillow since you got it?" He asks quietly.

"What does that have to do with heaven?" I'm so confused.

"That would explain a lot," Garrett tells him. "Like why he didn't recognize your number."

"Yeah," Bram agrees.

"What is going on?" But before they have a chance to answer, Garrett hits a speed bump that came out of nowhere and I remember that we're still moving towards Abby's house. "Will you take me home?"

"No," Garrett says shortly. "One, you are shwasted. Two, I don't think you want your parents to see you right now. And three, you are shwasted." Garrett chuckles at his own joke, but I don't think I understand it. "Plus, once you sober up a bit, we'll find a way to make this up to you."

I rest my head against the window. I have no idea what that means, but I think he's onto something because I can barely think in a straight line, so I'm pretty sure my parents would realize I am drunk in a heartbeat. I kinda wish Nick was here because I'm feeling philosophical as I try to figure out whether, sober or not, it's possible for me to think in a straight line when I'm gay.

I don't know how my parents would take it. I mean, I'm a pretty good kid. I do my homework and stay out of trouble at school. I've only ever had one beer… and now two shots… oh and the apple drink. I forgot all about the apples drink. And maybe a third shot. Everything is a little fuzzy. Maybe Garrett's right. Maybe I am shwasted.

I stare out the window because I forgot where I was going with this.

I've been to Abby's place before, but I don't think I've ever looked at it before. The air feels glorious and cool and I do not want to go inside. I spin a little bit, but then the world is spinning too much, so I lay down in the grass. Right here, I feel so calm. It's not even the alcohol, it's the depth of the world around me. There are trees and stars and air. And it's all above me. And then below me, there's grass and bugs and dirt. It makes me feel like nothing that's happening to me can be too significant, because look at all this big stuff! I don't even care if that doesn't make sense to anyone else; it makes all the sense to me.

I know Abby tries to get me inside, but I'm quite happy where I am. I hear a whispered conversation, but I don't even try to listen in. I just let the cool air wash over me.

Someone lies down next to me and their arm brushes mine. I glance over and am surprised to see Bram. "What are you doing here?" I ask curiously. "And not like in general. Just like right now. I'm happy you're here in general."

Bram smiles a little bit; it's so subtle, I almost don't see it. "I'm on babysitting duty," he tells me.

I frown. "But there's no baby here."

"Keep telling yourself that," he teases.

It's so unexpected, I start laughing. I keep laughing until I'm crying and eventually, the laughter fades away and all that's left is the crying.

It doesn't take Bram long to realize that I'm not laughing-crying anymore, but I'm crying-crying. He sits up and pulls me up into a seated position.

"What's going on in there?" He asks me quietly. He's impossibly soft and gentle, and all I can think about at that moment is how much I wish he was gay. Maybe there's not a God because, if there was, surely Bram Greenfeld would be gay. Screw Garrett, I remind myself. This is all his fault.

I shrug and transition from crying-crying to hysterical-crying. It's like a snot faucet cry, but I can't care because I feel like every emotion I've ever suppressed is rising up in me. Every joke my dad has made over the years has come back to me, every time my mom has gone into therapist mode instead of mom mode, everything that's happened at school these last two weeks. I never thought I would be an emotional drunk, but here I am.

"If you're going to get something out, now's the time to do it," Bram tells me. He's holding my hand and I'm so distracted by that, I forget I'm not supposed to let this shit get to me. I forget about should's and about who I was versus who I am not versus who I should be. He has really strong hands and I never want him to let go.

"Martin freaking Addison," I grumble. "I think he's been messing with me. His first name is a president and he doesn't have blue eyes and he's never pushed me down the hallway in a chair… I don't want it to be him."

Bram makes a choking noise. "You think Martin Addison is…" he stops abruptly and when I look at him, he looks like he's working through something kind of difficult. Even in the night sky, this kid is cute. Like what gives God? Are you trying to torture me because I'm gay?

"Can I tell you something?" I ask him. He nods as he studies me. "He's the one who outed me. I thought he had gotten ahold of some emails I sent to another kid at our school, but now I think he's the kid I was emailing. It's a long story, but…" I bite my lip and look at Bram. I can feel the hysterics coming on again. Might as well get them out of the way. "I don't know what I'll do if it's him. I don't want it to be him." I don't care if I sound like a little kid.

Bram looks down at the grass. "Do me a favor," he says. "If you remember this conversation in the morning, talk to me about this again. I think there are some things I need to say, but I can't say them until you're sober."

I frown, certain that he's tired of talking to me. "It's okay," I say. I had just calmed down, but now I'm crying again. "You don't need to talk to me."

"No, no, no," he says quickly. He lifts up my chin and it feels really intimate. His face is so close to mine. It would be SO easy for him to kiss me. He won't because of the whole not-gay thing, but it would be easy. "It's not that I don't want to talk to you, I just want to talk to you when you'll remember the conversation."

It's hard not to believe him, but that doesn't make it easier to stop crying. "So-so-sorry," I hiccup. I'm such a mess.

"Don't apologize." He's squeezing my hand and it feels like a really nice gesture. "If anyone has the right to fall to pieces right now, it's you."

He's looking at me in this way that makes me feel like I'm priceless and he's still holding my hands and I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't say something. "You're kind of cute, you know that, right?" I tell him softly.

Bram flushes. "Thanks." I can tell he's uncomfortable, but he doesn't try to leave me.

Despite my refusal to go inside before, when Bram tells me he's chilly and asks if I'll go inside, I immediately climb to my feet. When he tells me to sit down, I do. When he asks me to drink water, I do. He tells me to eat some pretzels and I do.

I don't know what it is about Bram that makes me listen to him. I just feel like somehow, he GETS it; I don't even know what IT is, but I know he gets it.

I don't realize that Garrett's holding a red solo cup until I get back from the bathroom. That's when I realize that Abby and Nick are drinking as well. I'm not surprised that the pissed-off look on Leah's face has only gotten more pissed off. She doesn't drink in general and I'm sure she's uncomfortable. I'm surprised that Bram's not drinking. I wonder if that's because of me.

I try to tell him he can drink and that I do not need a babysitter, but he shakes his head, makes me eat another pretzel, and says he'd rather be doing what he's doing. For some reason, Garrett makes a weird noise at that, which makes everyone laugh. Bram rolls his eyes at him.

I don't think it's the alcohol that's making things a little more confusing. Bram gets another cup of water in me and it doesn't sit with me well. Bram realizes what's coming before I do and he's able to get me to a bathroom before I empty my stomach.

Bram is rubbing soothing circles in my back, but I kind of want him to leave. The shots were pretty good going down, but now they're terrible and everything sucks. It's embarrassing and I don't want anyone, especially Bram, to see this.

He's talking to someone in the hallway, but I can't hear what he says. All I can think about is how badly my world is spinning and how exhausted I am.

When I wake up, I'm aware of how bright it is and how much my head hurts. I groan and roll over. "Morning," a soft voice says. I try to open my eyes, but it's so bright it hurts. It takes me over a minute to adjust but, once I do, I see that Bram is the only other person awake. We must have fallen asleep in Abby's living room, because Nick, Leah, Garrett, and Abby are sleeping on the floor. I groan again as a greeting. "Here." He hands me a glass of water. I don't realize how dry my mouth is or how heavy my tongue feels until I take a sip. Pretty soon the entire glass is empty. My stomach lurches uncomfortably, but I don't think I'm in danger of throwing up.

"Thanks." My voice sounds raspy to me. "Bathroom." I can't manage anything more than that. This is what death feels like. If this is the new Simon, then the new Simon is dead. I guess someone took off my makeup because I recognize myself when I look in the bathroom mirror. When I get back to the living room, Bram is sitting right where I left him.

"What do you remember from last night?" He asks curiously.

I frown and concentrate. "Abby took us to a gay restaurant and I took some shots that tasted like orange soda. Outside of that, not much," I admit. He nods but looks disappointed about something. It's weird enough that he's talking to me, I can't imagine why he looks disappointed. "What happened?"

"Exactly what you said. Then we came back here," he shrugs. "You spent an hour in the bathroom dry heaving after you threw up, so you had a pretty fun night."

I cover my eyes with my hands. That's embarrassing. "What time did everyone go to bed?" I ask. They all look fast asleep.

"Uh… somewhere around 3 or 4," Bram tells me.

I glance at the clock. It's only 9, so I can see why they would be so asleep. "What time did you get to bed?"

He moves around uncomfortably. "I didn't sleep much last night," he admits. "Leah and I were the only ones that didn't drink, so we had our hands full." He looks at the ground. "You really don't remember anything about last night?"

"No, but there's clearly something you want me to remember, so why don't you tell me what that is," I grumble. My head hurts too much for me to try to beat around the bush.

I must be louder than I intend to because Leah rolls over. She continues sleeping, but I guess Bram doesn't want to risk waking them up, because he says, "come on. Follow me."

I follow him to Abby's kitchen. He refills my cup, which I'm kind of grateful for. I try taking slower sips this time, but I'm still so thirsty. "So, what's up?"

He looks down at the island. "This was easier when you were drunk." He closes his eyes and when he looks at me, I'm almost swept away in them. They're this soft brown color. "You told me about Martin last night."

I groan. "How much did I tell you?" Poor Bram. What did I do? Latch on to him and give him my whole life story?

"You think he's Blue," Bram whispers.

"I told you about Blue?" I sit up straight, my eyes wide. I didn't think that I would ever tell anyone about Blue. At least not until I knew for sure who he was and even then, only if he wasn't Martin.

"Not exactly." He sighs. "This is hard to talk about. You told me that Martin had found some emails of yours and that you thought he was the person you'd been emailing."

"And when did I tell you about Blue?" I ask.

"You didn't." He looks like he's waiting for me to understand something.

But what he said doesn't make sense to me. How else could he know about Blue? It would be one thing if he just knew there was a guy I'd been talking to, but he knew his nickname. Maybe it's the hangover, but something isn't adding up here. "But how-"

"I'm Blue," he cuts me off.

My world slows down and I know my ears stop working because I don't hear any of the little sounds that are always present in Abby's house. I don't hear the clock ticking or the bubbling of her fish tank or the hum of insects outside of her house. I think I shake my head at one point because I can't wrap my head around this. When my ears start functioning and I don't feel like the world is trying to drown me, I manage to ask, "how is your name a president?" It's probably the dumbest question I could have asked at that moment, but I can't even begin to process the other stuff. Maybe the new Simon isn't very different from the old one, because nothing makes sense to me.

"Bram is short for Abraham," he explains.

"I can't freaking believe this. It's you," I whisper breathlessly.

"It's me," he agrees. "I thought you would have figured it out before we went out. Garrett made me call you when we were coming to pick you up because we thought you would recognize my number and realize who I am. He's way too involved in this." I store that away to think about later.

"How would I recognize your number?"

"Do you sleep with the t-shirt I got you under your pillow?" He asks me. There's a faint smile on his face that makes him look really attractive.

"I did not tell you that." I didn't think there was any way I could be more embarrassed about last night, but would you look at that? I told him I sleep with that shirt under my pillow. What the hell was I thinking last night?

"Well, you didn't know who I was. But we realized… you never looked inside, did you?" I shake my head and look at him curiously. "I couldn't figure out why you hadn't texted me… or called me… or done something. It was making me so anxious."

"I don't understand." I know I sound frustrated, but I can't help it.

"There was a note with the shirt."

"Yeah, I know. The Elliott wouldn't mind note."

He shakes his head. "No, another note… where I gave you my number."

"Are you telling me I could have known who you are all week?" I ask incredulously. I actually can't believe it. I'm such an idiot.

Someone stumbles into the kitchen and I am suddenly aware of the tension between us. It's obvious to Garrett as well. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm just getting some water. I'll be out of here in no time."

Despite his assurance that he would be quick, it seems like he takes forever to cross the kitchen, get a glass from the cabinet, go to the fridge to get some water, and then leave. If he feels anything like I do, I totally understand why he's moving so slow.

Once Garrett is gone, silence stretches between us. I rest my head on the cool granite of the island because I still feel like my hangover is trying to kill me. I don't know how much time passes before Bram breaks the silence. "Did you never suspect it was me?" he asks quietly.

"No," I admit. He looks disappointed. I can't blame him. I would be pissed if I was in his shoes. "If it helps, I never thought it was you because I thought you were straight. It's weird because it's not like you ever did anything to make me think you were straight, I just assumed that you couldn't be gay. I'm just as bad as all those people we complained about in our emails."

"No, you're not," he says quietly. But I am, I really am. For all our talking about how there shouldn't be a default, I certainly chose a default and stuck it to him. Hell, I practically stuck all the defaults to him because not once did I consider that Blue wouldn't be white.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I don't know how to do this. I've longed for Blue to be more than just an email address, but now that it's happened, I think I ruined everything.

"Don't be," Bram tells me. There's an almost desperate look on his face and his hand brushes mine hesitantly. I don't hesitate. I lift my hands and it strikes me that his hands are a lot bigger than mine. It's corny and cliche for us to be holding hands over a table and staring longingly at the other, but there's no other way of describing it. I guess he needs that contact too because, once his grip on my hand tightens, he continues talking. "I can't be upset after last night."

"You mean where I got so drunk I couldn't remember anything?" I can't believe he's not angrier.

"Yeah, well, maybe don't drink so much next time," he teases. He shakes his head. "No, without ever saying the word Blue, you made it obvious that you like me. You better hope that Garrett doesn't remember last night either because you will never hear the end of it if he does."

"So, Garrett knows?" I ask.

"He's known since you got outed," Bram confirms. "He noticed how upset I was when you were outed… and after you tried to guess who I was. I came out to him and he's been great, if not a little too involved in this whole thing." Bram hesitates. "You should also know that you made it really obvious that you… like someone to everyone. I think Abby put two and two together that it's me, but I don't think anyone else did."

"How do you feel about that?" I ask nervously.

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I thought I would be upset about it, but it's hard to be upset when I like you so much." He looks like he's making a confession. I give him a minute to gather his thoughts and say what he needs to say. "I expected coming out to be this big, scary thing, and when it happened to you… when you had no say in it, I didn't think I would ever be ready to come out. It looked like actual hell for you. Garrett was the one that pointed out that it was only like that because you were going through it alone. I mean you had your friends, but it's like you were the only chew toy in school. When I started to think about coming out and being out with you… it didn't seem so scary. I feel like maybe I can take it now."

"What are you saying?" I'm like 99% sure I know what he means, but I need to hear it.

"I'm-" Before he has the chance to finish his sentence, the door to the kitchen swings open. I hastily drop his hand and turn to glare at our intruders. They literally could not have picked a worse time.

"We were wondering where you two disappeared to," Nick grumbles. He looks about as bad as I feel.

"You look like shit," I tell him.

"You're not looking so hot either," he retorts.

"Get a room," Abby moans. "I'm never drinking again."

Leah snorts. "Keep telling yourself that." She, at least, doesn't look like she wants to die so that's something. She turns her gaze to me. "How are you feeling?"

I take a sip of water for something to do. I'd kind of forgotten about my drink while I was talking to Bram. "Just great," I say sarcastically. "Like a million bucks."

"I'm sure. So, tell us more about this guy you love." I make the mistake of taking a sip of water just as she says that, and I practically choke on it as I swallow. I'm just grateful I didn't spit it out because I think I would have gotten it all over Bram.

"Love?" I squeak. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bram blush and look back down at the island.

"Your words, not mine," Leah says defensively.

"My… my words?" I ask incredulously. "What do you mean my words?"

"Words that came from you," Leah says dryly. She's mastered the art of calling people out on stupidity without actually calling them stupid. I usually think it's brilliant, but when it's being directed towards me? Less brilliant.

"I got that part. What did I say?" I study her, and she turns a little red.

"You just couldn't stop talking about this guy. You never gave us a name," Abby supplies. She glances at Bram and I know that he's right - she knows it's him. "When you got back from the bathroom, I think you were tired of not being able to talk about it and drunk enough that you didn't care if you talked about it. You told us that you were in love…"

"I believe your exact words were 'I'm so freaking in love that I would give up junk food for him'," Nick interrupts. He's enjoying this way too much.

I turn to glare at Bram. "Didn't say anything important last night?" I ask. I don't care that I said it; I care that he didn't tell me, but he looks surprised.

"Bram wasn't there for that," Garrett explains. "I intercepted you while he was on the phone with his dad. His stepmom is pregnant and they talk about it at really weird times, like when his dad is woken up by his stepmom and can't fall back asleep."

I'd known his stepmom is pregnant but, somehow, I forgot that would apply to Bram. "Right," I say. "So, who's up for breakfast?" I don't know if I can eat because my stomach doesn't seem too thrilled about food right now, but I need the distraction. I cannot talk about Blue in front of Bram until I talk about it with Bram. It's just too weird for me.

Leah looks around and then looks at Bram. "I do think we need to get some food in our Sitting Babies Club," she tells him.

He chuckles. "Sitting Babies Club?" I ask.

Leah shrugs. "It's our nickname for you."

"Leah read these books when she was younger called…" Bram looks at her uncertainly.

"The Babysitter's Club," Leah provides. "They're pretty bad, but I was obsessed."

"We just tweaked the name a bit to be a little more appropriate for a bunch of drunk teenagers," Bram finishes.

I look back and forth between the two of them. I kind of get the feeling that they are going to be friends after last night and the thought makes me smile. I have no idea what's going to happen between me and Bram, and I don't know when we're even going to be able to figure that out, but I like the idea of them being friends.

"I don't think we should let them drive," Bram tells her. "I can drive Garrett's car."

Leah glances at Abby. "I can drive Abby's… if you're okay with that." Abby nods. Her eyes are still closed, which makes me think that her hangover must be pretty bad.

"I'll go with you," Garrett says looking at Leah. "Maybe I'll get to breakfast today."

"I don't drive that slow," Bram grumbles, but he doesn't put up much of a fight. We all end up going out in our pajamas. It's not like we're going to a five-star restaurant, so we don't think it will matter.

It isn't until I slide into the passenger seat of Garrett's car that I realize what Garrett did. Bram and I are completely alone. Bram backs out of Abby's driveway. A couple of minutes after we leave, he pulls down a side street and puts the car in park. "I can't wait to talk about this," he says softly.

"Me neither," I agree. I shift so I'm facing him. I expect him to say something but, after a minute, he's still silent. I figure he needs some prodding in the right direction. "What were you going to say before?" When he looks confused, I add, "you said something about coming out not seeming so scary, but the rest of your sleeping babies club walked in before you could explain what you meant."

"Sitting babies," he corrects. "I was going to say I'm ready. Whatever you want, I'm all in. If you want to be boyfriends, we'll be boyfriends. If you want us to take some time and figure this out, we'll take some time."

"Boyfriends. Definitely boyfriends." I feel like my breath catches in my throat and I wouldn't be able to say anything else if I tried.

Bram smiles this really big smile. He smiles with his whole face. Like you can see it in his eyes and in the way he scrunches up his forehead and in the way that he just kind of looks like he's glowing.

It's a good thing that Bram chose an abandoned side street to pull into because suddenly I'm leaning over the gear stick and then my hands are on his shoulders and his are resting by my hips.

And I only have a split second to prepare myself as I lean in to kiss him.

It's something that can't be described. It can only be felt. I'm sure Bram would be able to put words to it because he knows how to use them. But I can't. I can't describe the ache I feel below my stomach or how he kisses or why I don't mind when we knock noses. I can only feel how utterly perfect this moment is. And I'm pretty sure kissing should be considered an actual cure for a hangover because I feel 100000% more alert.

We pause for a moment, less than an inch from each other. He smiles, so I smile back and it's too perfect. He leans back in to kiss me and it starts off soft and sweet, but I guess he wants more just as much as I do because in no time it's all passion and pressure.

I never want it to stop. This should be all life consists of. We should never have to break the kiss and go back to living in anticipation of feelings like this. I want to feel this alive and this loved for…

The moment the thought pops into my head, I pull back. Bram looks at me confused and I'm sure he's feeling the loss as much as I am.

"I'm sorry… if that was too much-" he starts to say.

"No," I quickly interrupt. "It's not too much. I just uh… I realize there's something else we need to talk about. What Leah said."

I can practically see the gears shifting in his head as he tries to remember what I'm talking about and I know the exact moment he figures it out because he flushes. It's a really good look on him. "Oh."

"Yeah." I don't know how to talk about this.

"Did you mean it?"

I don't expect the question from him and I don't think he expects it either. But it's out now and I'm determined to answer him honestly. I've known for a while that I'm in love with him but that doesn't make it easier to admit. There's this pressing fear that he won't feel the same way. After all, not everyone falls in love over email. It could just be me. "Yes." I'm barely audible and it's so freaking hard to get out. It's like trying to materialize through a wall. But I manage and I just wait.

I feel like I might scream or cry. Why the hell did I bring this up? Why didn't I just keep kissing him?

And wait.

I'm an idiot. Seriously, that's what it comes down to. New Simon is an idiot who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

And wait.

I wish I had gotten the name of the diner we're getting breakfast at. I could probably walk there. Or hitchhike. Anything to avoid this awkward silence that's stretching on and on.

And wait.

Maybe I broke him. Maybe I've shocked him so much, he's incapable of acknowledging what I just said.

And wai-

"I love you," he says, finally interrupting my panicked thoughts. It's pure softness and warmth and I want him to say it again. Maybe he feels the same way because I get my wish. "I am in love with you."

"I love you too."

And then we're kissing again and in the back of my head, I recognize that I'm responding to the kiss in a way I've never responded to a kiss before and that this means we'll probably have to The Talk sooner rather than later. But definitely not now.

He breaks the kiss and I realize I'm not the only one that's flustered and responding. "We should get to breakfast," he whispers.

In truth, I kind of forgot about it, but now I'm aware of how hungry I am. We take a minute to compose ourselves. I don't think it's my imagination that Bram has this hungry look in his eyes that has nothing to do with breakfast as we drive to the diner.

When we arrive, our friends are already seated.

"Did you get lost?" Nick asks curiously.

Garrett and Abby are looking at the table and Leah looks like she's on the brink of understanding it, but Nick is so completely lost. Poor Nick. And they say I'm oblivious. I look back at Bram. "Not exactly," I say.

His hand finds mine. We don't really hold hands; we just kind of let the tips of our fingers meet, but it's still nice. And Nick's looking back and forth between us as if we've just changed the way the world works. Abby looks like she might scream… or throw up. Not everyone's discovered the cure for hangovers that I have.

"No fucking way," Leah says. She actually looks excited. I'm pretty sure that this is a dream come true for her as well.

"Yes fucking way," I tease. Leah is still smiling as she moves so that Bram and I can sit next to each other, which is really freaking nice of her.

Breakfast is fun, but all I want is some alone time with Bram. I realize I'm probably not going to get it for a while. Unless… Bram's midbite when I turn to him.

"Come over later. I can drive you home after," I offer.

He looks nervous and I have no idea why, but he nods. We go back to Abby's for a few hours after breakfast and Garrett drops us off at my place before he heads home.

"I'm about to meet your parents, huh?" He asks.

Crap. I suddenly understand why he'd looked so nervous before. I'd never put two and two together to realize that him coming over meant meeting my family. "Are you okay with that?"

Bram nods. We walk in and, suddenly, I can't do it. I can't introduce my parents to him. I don't know if he wants me to call him my boyfriend in front of other people or if that's just for us. I want a little more time with him before this turns into a huge freaking deal. Plus, I suddenly remember how coming out went and how freaking terrible it was, and I… I just can't.

I briefly tell my mom that Bram and I will be in my room. She gives me a look. "I know, I know. Open door," I assure her. She looks a little surprised that I said that out loud, but I whisk Bram away before she can

"What was that?" Bram asks curiously. I don't answer him.

I instantly go to my bed and crawl towards my headboard. I pull the t-shirt out from under my pillow. I don't know what it is, but I need to see the note that I missed.

When I have the t-shirt in my hand, I wait until Bram is sitting next to me to unfold it. I still don't see the note and I'm wondering if he made it up when he guides my hand inside the shirt.

There's a piece of construction paper taped to the inside. "Did you even want me to find it?" I ask him.

He shrugs. "I wanted to hide it in case someone looked in the bag when they were walking by your locker. I didn't want to give anyone more ammunition against you and I thought you would have worn it at some point."

But I'm only partially listening to him because I finish reading the note. And now it's all I can think about. I don't know if it's how much he uses 'love' or the fact that he did try to give me his number, but I feel like a jumble of nerves inside. "I can't believe I missed it."

"Why did you put it under your pillow?" Bram asks curiously.

I shrug. "I don't think I have a reason. I just felt weird every time I thought about wearing it. Because I didn't know who you were and because I was…" I look down at my bed.

"You can say it," he says softly.

I take a deep breath. "I was so angry at you. I didn't know about this note and you weren't answering my emails, so it seemed like… I don't know. Like you didn't want to get to know me but like you still made it impossible for me to move on. And this whole week, I could have been talking to you. I freaked out over nothing."

"Not nothing," he says gently. "I could have responded to your email, but I was scared. You had every right to be angry with me. I saw what was happening to you and instead of admitting that I was scared to go through the same thing, I pretended to be frustrated with you when you didn't know who I was. It was easier to drive you away. It took me a long time to realize that's what I was doing and then I was ashamed. I couldn't face you until I knew you wanted to be faced."

"So, you wrote me a note and you gave me the choice?"

He nods. "When Garrett overheard the plans at lunch yesterday, he thought that we might be able to find out why you were ignoring me. That's why he invited himself," Bram continues.

"You weren't kidding when you said he was involved," I observe. I feel like I have to do something to ease the tension, but I don't know what that something is.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. We both made stupid choices and did things we regret. What matters is that I meant what I said before. I'm all in now. I'm not scared anymore."

"Me neither," I agree.

"Then why didn't you introduce me to your mom? Why didn't you tell her who I was?" He challenges.

"They're gonna make it this big thing," I explain reluctantly. "And it is a big deal, but I don't know… I feel like I don't want you meeting them to be the first time I tell them who you are. I want to give them some time to prepare."

He studies me for a moment. "Are you embarrassed by them?"

"No," I say. I'm a little louder than I mean to be and I intentionally lower my voice. "No. That's not it. It's just… my dad can be a little much when he's surprised. Me coming out… let's just say it wasn't pretty. If they know ahead of time that they're about to meet you, well it might be less…

"Less what?" He presses.

"Just less."

Bram frowns. "What happened when you came out?" He asks.

"About what I expected. My dad asked which girlfriend turned me gay, my mom tried to get me to talk about my feelings, Alice got pissy and political, and Nora kind of looked like she wanted to die."

I don't realize until he brings his hand up to my cheek that I'm still a little upset about it. "That sounds rough."

He doesn't move his hand and somehow that gives me the courage I need. "It's not that I don't think they love me. I just…" I don't even know what it is, but I kind of feel like my stomach is spinning whenever I think about them meeting Bram. It's almost this feeling of doom. As if he'll realize how extra my family is and it'll be too much for him in the same way that it's sometimes too much for me.

"What if I promise you that they won't scare me off?" He asks. He's looking at me as if he can see directly to my soul. "What if I promise that no matter what jokes they make, how much your mom wants me to talk about my feelings, or how your sisters react, I'll be right here. What if I don't leave your side the whole time and you don't have to go through this part alone?"

He clearly understands something I didn't because I feel warm all over when he says that. Suddenly I'm not as nervous for him to meet my parents. "What if-"

"There is no what if that will make me change my mind," he interrupts.

I roll my eyes. "What if you stay for dinner and we tell my parents afterward?"

"Oh. That's an acceptable what if," he admits.

He's so cute that I have to lean over and kiss him. We only kiss for a couple of seconds because my door is wide open, and my parents are somewhere in the house.

Bieber pops in a few minutes later and he LOVES Bram. Like possibly more than he loves Leah. He won't sit still for more than 2 seconds, and I feel like we need to get some of his energy out. "Do you want to go for a walk?" I ask Bram.

"Sure," he agrees.

I grab Bieber's leash. "He's jumping all over Bram. We're taking him for a walk," I tell my mom.

"Don't forget, we're skyping with Alice before dinner," my mom reminds me. I actually had completely forgotten. Alice had a big test last week, so we didn't have a chance to talk with her. She was skyping with us before her date with Theo. I glance at the clock.

"Six, right?" My mom nods. It gives us an hour and a half. "We'll be back by then," I promise. I hesitate. "Bram's going to stay for that."

My mom studies me for a moment. I can tell she wants to ask me something, so I am really surprised when she doesn't. I don't know if it's some reverse psychology shit or what but, suddenly I want to tell her. I don't want to repeat myself though, so I force myself towards the front door, where Bram and Bieber are waiting. Bram is crouched down so he can pet Bieber and Bieber is licking his face. It's so sweet, it makes me fall a little more in love with both of them.

I hook up Bieber's leash and I let Bram take the reins. He looks nervous at first and is holding Bieber's leash in a death grip. "Calm down. If he pulls free, he won't run far," I assure him. "He knows we have the food."

Bram chuckles and looks a lot more relaxed after that. It's chilly which makes it the perfect hoodie weather. I shove my hands in my pockets and walk close enough to him that our elbows are constantly brushing. We talk about everything as we walk. He tells me about Little Fetus and I tell him all about Martin. We talk about where we'd go on a date and relearn each other in person. It's really nice.

I completely lose track of time until Nora texts me and asks me if I'm joining them. Wow, I didn't know it was possible to be sarcastic over text message, but she managed it.

We end up being a little late, which I think is a good thing because we don't have to worry about making small talk while we connect to Alice on Skype. I take off my hoodie and carefully fold it up before we go into the living room. Bram tsks at me. I'm stalling and we both know it.

"Hey Bub," Alice says when she sees me on the screen.

"Hey," I say. I wait until Bram is visible on the screen. "How's it going."

She doesn't say anything. She has a really effective spill-your-guts look even over Skype. "Everyone this is Bram. Bram this is Alice, Nora, and my mom and dad." There are a few awkward greetings. I can practically feel everyone's anticipation around me; might as well get this over with. "Bram is my boyfriend."

For a split second, nothing happens. Then it's kind of what I expected.

"So, you're the one who turned him," my dad says as he eyes Bram.

"That's a little offensive," Alice says almost immediately. They start arguing back and forth.

Nora looks like she's in pain.

What surprises me is that my mom hasn't said a word. She has this really weird look on her face. "What?" I ask her. I don't care that I interrupted my dad and Alice. It's so unlike her not to say anything and now it's twice in one day that she's resisted the urge to bombard me with questions. She's like the queen of making things a big deal. If they gave out awards for it, she would definitely win. So, I don't understand what she's doing.

"I don't want to make this a big deal if you don't want it to be one," she says quietly. A single tear slips down her cheek and I can't help but stare at it until it drips from her chin and disappears forever. You can hear a pin drop and it takes me a minute to understand what she just said.

"You don't want to make it a big deal?" I ask incredulously. I'm reasonably confident that we've just landed in an Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation. It's the only thing that makes sense to me.

She shakes her head and another tear slips out. It starts to follow the same path as the other one, but at the last second curves so it goes towards her ear. "If you don't want to talk about your feelings or talk about this, I'm not going to make you."

I freeze. My heart is thumping loudly, and I'm sure I'm not the only one that can hear it. "You heard us," I whisper. I should have closed my door more or been more careful. My mother should not have been able to hear what I told Bram.

We hadn't talked about my coming out. It happened and then we just kind of moved on, so I wouldn't be surprised if my mom had no idea how I'd felt about it.

My mom nods. And fuck… her crying is picking up. I don't think I've ever made my mom cry before. I've seen her cry at sad movies and funerals. But I've never been the one to cause it. My chest is getting tighter and tighter. I can barely breathe. Nothing matters except for the fact that I made my mom cry.

I feel that weird feeling in the back of my throat. It's almost like this warm, burning feeling that goes all the way down to my chest and I know I'm about to break down. Because I never should have done anything that would make my mom cry. And I'm not ready to think about what it means that this is all happening because I came out and because I now have a boyfriend and because this is so new to all of us. "I need to get some air," I gasp out. And then I'm running. It takes me almost a minute to open the back door and I don't care that I'm only in a t-shirt. Within seconds I'm shivering, but I need that; it gives me clarity. I sit down on one of the plastic chairs on our porch and pull my knees to my chest.

I'm crying, but I'm not hysterical. I just feel so lost. How could I have made my mom cry? She has literally given me everything. EVERYTHING. I'm pretty sure the look on her face when she started crying is going to haunt me forever. I kind of hate this new Simon.

I'm surprised that Bram doesn't follow me out immediately, but he comes out five minutes later and my mom is trailing him. Bram has a determined look on his face and my mom has a small smile on hers. What the hell just happened?

Bram takes a seat on the steps that lead to our porch and my mom sits on the other little plastic chair. There's a little bench that separates us and I wonder why she didn't sit on it. "I'm sorry about that," she says softly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't. I just… I never meant to make you cry," I tell her. I already have my knees drawn up into my chest which makes it easy to hide my head behind my knees and calm myself before I can start ugly crying. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to overhear us before…"

"It's not just before." I look at her confused as she pulls out her cell phone.

A computerized woman's voice starts talking. "January 17th at 1:34 AM."

Then I hear myself talking. It's obvious almost right away that I was crying, and I was slurring so bad that I have to strain to understand everything I was saying. I freaking drunk called my mom. Where was my babysitter when this happened? "Hey, mom. You're probably asleep which is fine. I don't even know why I'm calling you, but Bram called his dad and they're going back and forth about how much they love each other and how they're here for each other and… I miss that. I miss you. I feel like since I came out, I'm this new Simon that's suffocating under the pressure to talk about his feelings and talk about what it means that he's gay. And mom, I'm so tired of talking about how I feel. I just want to be gay without the hoopla. Because if you make me talk about my feelings, I might tell you the truth. I might tell you that I'm not fine. But I don't want a therapist. I just want my mom, but you don't know how to be that, do you? Bram says I'm scapegoating and instead of recognizing my inner fears… whatever the fuck that means, I'm blaming you and dad. You'd like him. He kinda reminds me of you. He says that I'm scared that dad means all the gay jokes he's made over the years and that I resent you for letting him make them. I dunno. Maybe he's right. That awkward moment when your gay son has been listening to gay jokes for seventeen years." I giggle. "Bram is full of theories. He's pretty cute, but he's straight and that's fine. Here's the kicker - I think I'm in love and it may be with this asshole kid. All I want to do is talk about it, but I can't. Because it will be this freaking huge deal because I'm gay and I don't want it to be. I don-"

"What are you doing?" I think that was Garrett's voice in the background, but I'm not sure.

But I'm talk-"

"Oh no. Hang up." Definitely Garrett.

"But I'm not-"

"Hang up the phone Simon!"

The voicemail ends, but I keep staring at the phone. I can't believe I did that. I feel sick.

She takes a deep breath. "I never meant to make you feel suffocated. I realize now that maybe if I give you a little more space, it might be easier for you to talk to me about some things. Bram gave me a little more context about what happened last night, and we will revisit this." I cringe. "And before you blame him, it was obvious you were drunk. He just told us about some of the other things you said about us."

I groan. I know I'm about to show my mom just how drunk I was because I gotta know what I said, and I don't remember it. Before I can ask, Bram supplies, "for example, I told her that you love how close your family is and that you said your parents are 'freaking superheroes' and that even if sometimes it's frustrating that they make a big deal out of things and that it can be hard to talk about things, you wouldn't have them any other way."

I turn to my mom. "It's not that it's hard to talk to you about some things… well, okay, it is for some things," I tell her quickly. "It's just hard in situations when everything is happening all at once and it's not just the talking about the feelings part. It's everyone and… it just can be overwhelming."

"Like when you came out," she confirms. "And some jokes were made? And it was the whole family together, reacting?" I nod. "Well, it's just the three of us right now."

But somehow, I still don't know what to say. I stare at the ground for what feels like forever before Bram comes to my rescue. "I think what Simon's trying to say is that this is new for everyone, even the two of us," Bram tells her. "You heard what he said in his voicemail. We may not have answers to some of your questions because we may not have thought to talk about them yet. We may not even know how to start the conversation…" Bram hesitates a moment before a resolute look crosses his face. "And there may be things that we shouldn't talk about with you, even if you want to know. Some things that have to be between the two of us."

I turn bright red and I expect my mom to forbid us from ever seeing each other again, but my mom just looks thoughtful. "We can respect that we need to establish some boundaries and not just between the two of you," she agrees. I'm pretty sure my mouth is open. Maybe I should take a leaf out of Nora's book and start saying text message abbreviations out loud because right now all I can think is: WTF. But seriously. My Invasion of the Body Snatchers theory is seeming more and more likely.

"And in turn, we can respect that you need to enforce certain boundaries between us," Bram adds. "We understand that you and Mr. Spier and my mom have responsibilities toward us and the last thing we want is to betray your trust."

My mom nods. "Thank you for this. We'll sit down at some point and have a real talk about this, once we've had a chance to reflect on what those boundaries should be. What can you tell me now?"

Bram looks at me expectantly and I realize that he can't make this decision for me. I need to be the one that decides how much she gets to know. But I don't wanna. Bram making the decisions was so much easier for me. "Why don't you start off with asking us questions and we'll answer them if we can," I suggest.

I sit up a little more and move to the bench next to the chair my mom is sitting in. I look at Bram expectantly and he sits next to me.

We spend over thirty minutes outside and it's weirdly nice. I don't feel pressure and my mom's making a bit of a big deal about it, but this is a big deal, so I'm okay with that. Mostly, I feel like she's my mom right now. I don't feel like she's analyzing me or acting like my therapist. She's doing her best not to be too much and, honestly, she's just the best. When Nora comes to summon us because she says Alice is feeling neglected, I give my mom a hug.

I can't remember the last time I hugged her and I think she's surprised at first, but I think we both need it. Right here, right now. This is what we need.

As we eat dinner, I feel so weirdly normal. I don't even know how to describe how I feel. It's like this weightless feeling, but not weightless at all.

I go to Bram's house after he gets back from church on Sunday and his mom's great. She's not nearly as soft-spoken as Bram is and has no qualms asking us questions about our relationship, but she doesn't ask us embarrassing or uncomfortable ones. She asks us how we met and when we plan on being official and whether we'd talked about going on dates. Bram calls me later that night to tell me that she had a horrifying sex talk with him after I'd left. He wasn't the only one. My parents sat me down when I got home to have an excruciating talk with me, both about safe sex and safe drinking. It makes me think our parents collaborated, but at least we get to be mortified together.

On Sunday, Mrs. Greenfeld invites me to Bram's birthday dinner. After glaring at him for a solid five minutes and ignoring his excuses that I should have realized that 118 meant January 18th, I agree. His birthday dinner on Monday is a lot of fun, and I get to meet his dad. It occurs to me that all the things that I only have to do once – coming out, introducing Bram as my boyfriend, etc. – he has to do twice. Maybe practice makes perfect because the words just seem to roll off his tongue when he tells his dad.

Tuesday, kids at school are practically buzzing around us as Bram and I meet up between classes and sit together at lunch. I don't mind. No one says anything to our face and, with Bram, I barely notice it.

I barely see Bram outside of school during the week. The performances for the play are this weekend, which means I have late rehearsals every day. I'm just barely managing to keep on top of my homework, much less keep up with a boyfriend. He seems to understand though. We make the best of our time together at lunch. It's not until Thursday, when I surprise Bram during his study hall, that I realize what has been happening while I've been neglecting him.

I find Bram sitting down in the corner of the library and just as I'm getting close to him, I hear some kid asks Bram if he plays soccer because he likes playing with balls. Bram just stares at his textbook which makes the kid kick his book aside. Bram doesn't look away from the faded carpet. I know that look. It's the look of someone that is just so tired of all the homophobic shit. I saw that look in the mirror when I sought refuge in the bathroom multiple times my first week back. I feel my heart pounding in my ears. This isn't the first time Bram's been given shit about this. I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. I guess I figured he was immune from the stuff I went through. And I figured he would have at least told me if something like this was happening.

"Excuse me?" I ask. The kid that was bothering Bram turns to face me. I recognize him as Joel, this obnoxious kid that was in my Public Speaking class last year. "You got a problem with Bram?"

It's probably important to say that I'm not a big guy. I'm shorter than almost every other guy in our grade. So, it probably isn't the best life decision for me to pick a fight. Joel clearly comes to the same conclusion, because he stands up straight so that he's looking down at me. He's easily got half a foot and fifty pounds on me.

"Something you want to say to me?" He asks.

"Yeah," I say. I'm pretty sure I'm about to get beat up, but it's worth it if it means he'll leave Bram alone. "Get the fuck away from Bram."

"Or what?" He asks tauntingly. He takes a step closer to me. I kind of feel like I'm in one of those movies where guys press their foreheads together but not in a romantic way; in an I'm-about-to-kick-your-butt way. If I was taller, I'm pretty sure that's what would be happening right now. It feels so surreal to me that I'm standing in an aisle of the library and that I might be about to get in a fight with someone.

I push him. "Or else." He barely moves and for a second, he doesn't look like he believes that I've done it. That makes two of us. I think my jaw must reach the floor. I can't believe myself. Sure, other people get in fights. Other people stand up for themselves. I don't do things like this; at least, I didn't use to. Is this part of the new me? Am I a fighter? Albeit, a terrible one?

I glance at Bram. He just looks shocked. The fight leaves me. I don't want to be the kind of person that gets in fights… though, I think this is a pretty good reason to get into a fight.

"Everything okay over here?" I turn to see Nick.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is my study hall," Nick shrugs. I frown, trying to figure out why Nick hadn't already been here protecting Bram, but I give him the benefit of the doubt. He probably didn't know anything was happening either. "I thought I recognized your voice. So, I repeat. Everything okay over here?"

I may not know who this new Simon is, but I am sure of one thing. I cannot let Nick fight my battles. "Just give me a second," I say to him. I turn back to Joel. I think I may know how to get through to him. Joel is a senior and he's one of the jocks that thinks he runs the school. I think he plays baseball or lacrosse. Whatever he plays, he's good enough at it that I know colleges were practically bidding on him since he started high school. He's going to some big school on an athletic scholarship, something I'm sure he can't afford to jeopardize. It's a good thing my dad's a lawyer because I have an idea. It's an idea that might end with me getting beaten to a pulp, but it also might prevent this entirely. "I may not be bigger than you and I sure as hell wouldn't be able to take you if you tried to fight me, but do you know what? I don't care. You can keep your asshole comments to yourself or we can do this for real. Yeah, I'll fight you. And sure, you'll kick my ass and I'll walk away with cuts and bruises, but do you know what you'll walk away with? Suspension if you're freaking lucky. And if you're not? You could lose scholarships and colleges can overturn your admissions. You will be the homophobic piece of shit that beat up the gay kid half your size. Is your whole freaking future really worth a couple of homophobic comments?"

Even if we weren't in a quiet library, I'm pretty sure silence would have fallen around us. I would have normally felt terrified by the way Joel is staring at me, but there's so much adrenaline running through me that there's no room for terror.

He grunts before he turns and walks away. I practically collapse to the floor. My heart finally catches up with what I did and it's working overtime. I don't realize that Bram is crouching in front of me until he shakes me. "Simon?" He asks.

"Did it work?" I ask.

"I don't know," Bram says honestly. "But he walked away and that's something. What were you thinking? Provoking him like that? Do you want to get beat up?"

"No," I tell him. "I just… I couldn't let him talk to you like that. It's not fair that we get shit because we're gay. You don't deserve that."

I'm surprised when Bram kisses me. The most public we've ever been while kissing is our first kiss in his car.

Nick coughs behind us. "What was that for?" I ask him.

"Just for being you," he says softly.

I think about that all day. Bram thanked me for being me, but what does that mean? I piece together all the things I've felt, all the confusion I've experienced, and all the frustration I've felt since I came out. And I piece together who I thought I was before I came out. By the time the bell rings, I'm feeling that thing again. The weird thing I felt after I had that talk with my mom.

I can't find the words to explain it as Bram crashes my rehearsal after he gets out of soccer practice. He sits behind the curtain, holding my hand while all the scenes I'm not in are being rehearsed.

Through all that, I feel this weird weightless feeling. As he teases me about my performance and as I make him blush, the feeling just gets stronger.

It's not until I drop Bram off at his house and kiss him goodnight that I'm able to put words to how I feel. It's not that I'm out or that I managed to stand my ground today. It's not even Bram, though he helped me get here.

I am unequivocally flawed and I make really stupid choices sometimes but that's all part of what makes me, me. Maybe I stare too long and have perpetual bedhead and curse a little too much… but is there a "too much"? Maybe all of those things are true and maybe they're all part of me. How I feel about Bram and my family and my friends and even assholes like Joel are all part of me as well. So, I may be flawed and have questionable decision-making skills, but I'm proud of myself. And for the first time, I know what it means to be Simon Spier.