With Karen being home every weekend, we haven’t had a lot of alone time. Most of our time together is spent at school or on dates over the weekends. For some reason, he doesn’t feel right coming to my bedroom when Karen is home and he always makes excuses when I suggest we go to his house. So instead, we’ve seen a lot of movies. We’ve also been out a few times with Breckin and his new boyfriend, Max.
Holder and I have been having a lot of fun together, but we haven’t had a lot of fun together. We’re both beginning to get a little frustrated at our lack of a decent place to make out. His car is kind of small, but we’ve made do. I think we’re both counting down the hours until Karen is out of town again next weekend.
I sit down at the table with Breckin and Max, waiting for Holder to bring both of our trays. Max and Breckin met at a local art gallery about two weeks ago, not even realizing they attended the same school. I’m happy for Breckin because I started to get the feeling he felt like a third wheel, when it wasn’t like that at all. I love his company, but seeing him pour his attention into his own relationship has made things a lot easier.
“Are you and Holder busy this Saturday?” Max asks when I take a seat.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“There’s an art gallery downtown that’s displaying one of my pieces in their local art show. I want you guys there.”
“Sounds cool,” Holder says, taking his seat next to me. “Which piece are you displaying?”
Max shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to decide between two.”
Breckin rolls his eyes. “You know which one you need to enter and it isn’t either of those two.”
Max cuts his eyes to Breckin. “We live in East Texas. I doubt the gay-themed painting will go over very well around here.”
Holder looks back and forth between them. “Who gives a shit what people around here think?”
Max’s smile fades and he picks up his fork. “My parents,” he says.
“Do your parents know you’re gay?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. They’re pretty supportive for the most part, but they’re still hoping none of their friends at church find out. They don’t want to be pitied for having the child who’s damned to Hell.”
I shake my head. “If God’s the type of guy that would damn you to Hell just for loving someone, then I wouldn’t want to spend eternity with Him, anyway.”
Breckin laughs. “I bet they have funnel cake in Hell.”
“What time is it over Saturday?” Holder asks. “We’ll be there, but Sky and I have plans later that night.”
“It’s over at nine,” Breckin says.
I glance at Holder. “We have plans? What are we doing?”
He grins at me and wraps his arm around my shoulder, then whispers in my ear. “My mom will be gone Saturday night. I want to show you my bedroom.”
My arms break out in chills and I suddenly have visions that are entirely too inappropriate for a high school cafeteria.
“I don’t even want to know what he said to make you blush like that,” Breckin laughs.
Holder pulls his arm away and rests his hand on my leg. I take a bite, then look back up at Max. “What’s the dress code for this showing on Saturday? I have a sundress I was thinking about wearing that night, but it’s not very formal.” Holder squeezes my thigh and I grin, knowing exactly what kind of thoughts I just put into his head.
Max begins to answer me when a guy from the table behind us says something to Holder that I failed to catch. Whatever he said, it immediately gets Holder’s attention and he turns completely around, facing the guy. “Could you repeat that?” Holder says, glaring at him.
I don’t turn around. I don’t even want to see who the guy is that’s responsible for bringing back the temperamental Holder in less than two seconds flat.
“Maybe I need to speak more clearly,” the guy says, raising his voice. “I said if you can’t beat them completely to death, you might as well join them.”
Holder doesn’t move right away, which is good. It gives me time to grab his face and pull his focus to mine. “Holder,” I say firmly. “Ignore it. Please.”
“Yeah, ignore it,” Breckin says. “He’s just trying to piss you off. Max and I get that shit all the time, we’re used to it.”
Holder works his jaw back and forth, breathing in slowly through his nose. The expression in his eyes slowly softens and he takes my hand, then slowly turns back around without looking at the guy again. “I’m good,” he says, convincing himself more than the rest of us. “I’m good.”