I guess realizing that I loved Spot wasn't as life changing as the weeks, or months, really, that came after it. I mean, I had suddenly realized that I liked boys, and I wasn't sure if it was just Spot or if I had had crushes on boys before, or even if I had ever liked girls or if I still did like girls and I liked boys too. Basically, it was just a confusing time. I knew I liked him a lot, loved him, but I didn't quite know what to do with that feeling. I didn't want to keep it from him, but I couldn't tell him either. The result was awkwardness, something that Spot and I had never had before. I felt like we didn't talk like we used to, just spewing out the thoughts that rose to the surface of our brain, because I was constantly analyzing everything I wanted to say to make sure I didn't say anything telling. He noticed, I knew it, and he was less open too. I didn't like it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Eventually, I sought out the voice of reason himself, the person who was always willing to listen without judging. David Jacobs.
"-and I'm not sure what to do about it! I mean, I want to tell him, but I don't know how he'd feel about it, and I don't wanna mess up our friendship, you know? But I hate not being able talk to him! I wanna go back to normal!" I sighed, probably incredibly overdramatically, and flopped back onto David's couch. "What am I supposed to do?" David sat back and looked at me for a minute, thinking.
"You can't just wait it out. He might know something is up, but he won't know what. If you're being that careful, he won't ever know unless you tell him."
"But what if it messes up our friendship!"
"It seems like keeping it a secret messes up your friendship." He thought again. "But maybe start with coming out to him? Tell him you're gay before you tell him you like him?"
"But what if-"
"Stop what-iffing! If he's really your best friend, he won't care that you like boys! And maybe eventually, you'll be able to tell him that you like him. Just tell him like you told me, except, you know, minus that fact that you like him."
"How do you expect me to just tell him? I can't just come out and say it!"
"That's what you did to me!"
"You're different! You're not Spot!"
"No, I'm not, and I know you haven't known me for as long as you have Jack, Specs, Spot, or any of them, but I am your friend, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you trusted me enough to tell me, right? And to give you advice, right?"
"Yeah."
"So then can't you trust my advice? I know Spot, not as well as you, but I do know him, and I know that he won't care that you're gay!"
"But he would care that I'm in love with him!"
"You can keep that under wraps until you're ready to tell him! But if it bothers you this much that things aren't like how they were before, then you have to take some kind of action! Telling him is the only thing I can think of, unless you want to stop being friends with him!"
"Of course not!"
"Then that's all I have to say." David stood up. "I hope you listen." I sighed, thinking about everything he'd said.
"I was." I made my choice. I had to tell him. I missed how things were too much to not, because David was right. "I'll tell him. Soon."
"Good for you. Want a soda?"
"No, I should go." I stood up. "Thanks for listening, Dave."
"I'm always here, Race."
"You here for studying?" I cracked. "Because midterms are coming up and I'm screwed." David laughed.
"Anytime." He opened the door for me. "See ya around, Race."
"See ya. And thanks again, Dave."
"No problem." I walked the few blocks home, thinking everything over.
The next day, I flung the orange and red flags out of the window. That was not a combination we'd used often before, but I felt it was justified. I urgently needed to talk to Spot, to tell him. He was up in the treehouse with me in minutes.
"What's the matter? Did something happen?" He looked worried, but the look on his face could not compare to the way my stomach was twisting. I felt like I was going to be sick, and I was sure that if I hadn't been sitting down, I would have fallen over the moment his face appeared in the opening.
"N-no. I just...I have something…" My throat was dry, and I couldn't force words out.
"What?" His eyes scanned over my face, trying to pick out what was happening.
"I have something to tell you." My words sounded forced to me, and I could tell Spot heard the tone in it as well.
"You can tell me anything. Always." He looked right into my eyes,
"I know. It's just...this is...different, I guess." He watched me, taking in my shaky breathing and the way I was wiping my palms. "I...I'm...I'm gay, Spot." He kept looking at me, but something in his eyes shifted. Like, now, instead of being worried, he was just slightly confused, and there was something else there too.
"You're...gay." He didn't have any inflection in his words. "As in...you like boys." I nodded, unable to speak anymore. I was even more nervous than before, if that was possible. I wasn't sure what was running through his mind. And then the corners of his mouth twitched, and he smiled at me slightly, the nervousness not totally gone but much less. "That makes everything so much easier." The last sentence was whispered, so I almost couldn't hear it over the breeze in the fall leaves.
"What?"
"I was going to tell you something too, only I was waiting for a good moment. I...am gay too, Race, and I was scared to tell you. I thought you guessed, and that's why were weren't talking as much, and I thought you didn't like it." He rushed his words, breaking his normal smooth demeanor. My mouth opened and closed a few times before I could react.
"You...you're gay? And you thought I would care?"
"Well, can you honestly tell me you don't? In some way?"
"Well, I mean, I care, but not like, I mean, in a bad way."
"See?"
"But I didn't know. I thought you knew about me, and that's why things were awkward."
"Guess we need to communicate better, yeah?" His smile was growing, spreading across his face in a way that made me melt. I could feel myself smiling too, just as big.
"Yeah." He bit his lip, when he made eye contact with me, clearly trying to keep back a laugh. I don't really know what was so funny, but something was absolutely hilarious. We gave up fighting back the laughter, and suddenly we were both collapsed on top of each other, laughing hysterically. Things were pretty much what they were like before I ever realized how I felt about him, except that everything was different. Now there was a chance. A chance for us to become us. To be a couple. Maybe not much of a chance, but it was there. And it changed everything. It seemed like my sixteenth year was one of constant shifting and flipping and confusion.
After we told each other, things were pretty much back to normal. I mean, I still caught myself staring at him more often than was acceptable, but we could talk freely around each other again. I didn't really make much sense, considering I was still keeping it a secret that I wasn't just gay, I loved Spot, but it was true. We were more...free around each other, more open. It was nice. Just like it had been before. We could slouch against the worn boards of the treehouse together, play games, do homework, study, and, most importantly, talk. About anything and everything. That was what I had missed the most out of anything before, and it was back. We were talking about stuff we used to, whether that was our friends, our pasts, school, whatever. We got back into just hanging out, being friends. I loved it. I loved being friends with him as much as I loved him, and that was why I scared to tell him. I treasured him as friend too much to risk it for the slight chance that he might like me back.
So I continued in my silence, even through the talks and lazy days spent together. I never told him, no matter how great of an opportunity I was given or how much I wanted to. I wasn't the daring one. That had always been Spot. I never took risks on my own, I always tagged along for the ride. So that's what I did. Nothing.