There’s always next week.JasperKit loves enamel pins and helping friends.
These are things I’ve learned this week.
Tuesday, he gave me a pin with a bone that said, “I find this humerus.”
Wednesday, he gave me one that was in the shape of an award that said, “Only cried a little. Yay.”
Thursday, he gave me a silver one that said, “Stay weird.”
Today, he gave me one in the shape of a bowl of guacamole that said, “I know I’m extra.”
With each passing day, more and more people gravitate toward him. I’m the only one he gives pins to, though. I’ve been putting them on my backpack to show them off. Kit always gets a stupid happy grin on his face when he sees them. That stupid happy grin makes my chest hurt in a good way.
He made good on his promise to tell me what he said to Eric. Apparently, Kit just wanted to let Eric know that if he needs support coming out, he would be there for him. I was stunned because I didn’t even know Eric was gay.
Kit also made an impression on my parents. My mother thinks, and I quote, “He’s the cutest thing I ever did see. Can we keep him?” This was after she and Leesa snuck away for a few minutes at dinner. Both of them came back red-faced from crying.
Each day, I’ve postponed my exit, plucking a pill from the bottle, dreading deep down that my supply is dwindling. It doesn’t matter. Twenty-four should still do the job. When I think about what happens after tonight, I feel sick to my stomach.
I miss Julian.
So fucking badly.
But I also know Mom’s getting closer to having the twins. I don’t want to miss out on them. Not seeing Kit each day is also becoming a big pill to swallow.
I like him.
Last night, I stayed up late trying to imagine how he’d take the news when they find me gone in the handicapped stall. He’d be crushed. His all-too giant smile would be non-existent. I would have done that to him.
Rather than thinking past tonight, I focus on Kit.
Loud. Bright. Beautiful Kit.
As we leave first hour, Kit’s hand holding mine, I feel like I’m in a daze. I want to spend the entire night looking at him. Memorizing his face. Kissing and touching him.
“Darrow,” Eric’s loud voice booms, making me startle. “A word?”
Kit gives me a nod and lets go of my hand. I follow Eric to a row of lockers where no one is standing.
“We need to talk,” he grits out.
“Okay.” I frown. “What’s wrong?”
He sighs and then leans in, his voice low. “I’m gay.”
“That’s nice.” I don’t betray Kit in letting him know I already knew.
“While it feels really good to admit that,” Eric murmurs. “That’s not what I wanted to say to you.” He sucks in a sharp breath that has me meeting his stare. “I, uh, I was in love with your brother. Unrequited and sappy, I know. He was straight. I was a closet gay. I just…” His voice cracks. “I’m so fucking sad he’s gone.”
My heart feels as though it’s been whipped, but the need to comfort him is strong. I grip his shoulder. “I miss him too.”
His eyes tear up and he looks at the lockers so no one will see him. “I know you and Kit are a thing…”
We’re a thing?
A thrill of pleasure shoots down my spine.
“Yeah,” I agree because I want to be a thing with Kit.
“I just…I wanted to know if…you can say no.” He frowns. “It’s just he saw it. Me. What I am. I want to tell my parents and I think I want to do it for the Homecoming banquet when the court is announced since they’ll be there watching. I thought I could…fuck, this is hard.”
“Tell me,” I urge.
“I want to ask Kit to the Homecoming banquet and dance. As my date.”
The breath is sucked from my lungs. A swell of possessiveness washes over me. My gut instinct is to tell him no, but Homecoming is in October. I’ll be long gone by then.
But we’re a thing.
How long does a thing last?
“I, uh, I…” I rub at the back of my neck. “What does Kit want to do?”
“I wanted to get your blessing first. He’s your boyfriend.” His eyes are panicked, as though he wishes he could reel back in all his words. “It would be platonic, Jasp. I wouldn’t try to kiss him or anything. I just want to let my parents know who I am and that I can still be on top. I’ll still be a badass football player who’ll go to Notre Dame. I need them to see.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“If Kit wants to, I don’t mind. He’ll want to help. You’re his friend.”
He grins at me. “You’re the best, man. I swear I won’t let you down, either. I’ll pay for his tux and everything. Hold doors open and shit.” He rubs his palm down over his face, more panic glittering in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do about the diabetes stuff, though. Do I like have to give him a shot or something?”