“What do you mean school?” I asked puzzled.
“I mean, I like school. I’m good at it. All these years the old man assumed I kept my grades up for football, but truthfully, it comes naturally for me.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t you ever say anything? I could've used your mad brain skills for some of my classes,” I chided.
“Now, how would it have looked to have a football stud acting like he actually enjoyed schoolwork?”
“Gasp, I could just imagine the horror,” I teased. “The moon would have been knocked off its axis, schools would have shut down, life as we knew it would be over,” I joked.
He laughed.
“Seriously, though, you'd think your dad would be proud,” I said in a more serious tone.
“Not my dad. He’s afraid it’s a sign of more things to come,” he said, pulling at the grass by his leg.
“Like what?” I asked, more confused than ever.
He looked around to see if anyone was around. “Basically, just stuff he’s recently learned about me that he’s not crazy about.”
“Ugh, you’re killing me with all this dancing around. Just tell me already,” I demanded, shooting him a smile so he would know I really wasn’t mad.
“You promise not to tell?” he asked quietly, all joking gone from his voice.
“Of course I promise. Besides, who am I going to tell?” I said, spreading my arms out to emphasize the social void my life had become.
“It’s probably going to change the way you feel about me,” he said miserably.
“I find that hard to believe, unless you tell me you’re some mass murderer or the person responsible for putting Jersey Shore on TV,” I said, trying to ease his apparent apprehension.
He didn’t return my smile and seemed to pale further as he weighed his words.
“Seriously, Colton, there’s nothing you can tell me that will change the way I feel about you,” I said, reaching over to grasp his hand.
He looked down at our hands. “I’m gay,” he said, finally meeting my eyes.
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“I’m gay,” he repeated a little more firmly. “I tried to hide it, deny it all these years, but it’s something I can’t seem to change.”
“How did I not know this?” I said, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together in my head.
“I think you did if you think back.”
I worked through his words as all the pieces finally came together. Of course he was right. I had known things were romantically off between us for years. There was absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t have worked as a couple. We both shared the same interests and likes, and enjoyed each other’s company, but each time we tried to move our relationship to the next level, it always fizzled out. We were good as friends, but could never cross the threshold into making out status.
“Dang, I guess I did,” I finally said.
“Are you mad?” he asked, looking worried.
“Mad? Heck no. You’re right. Something was always kooky about our kisses. I just assumed you didn’t like my cherry lip gloss,” I teased.
“Ha, that was the highlight of the kisses,” he said, sounding more lighthearted now that he had confessed.
“As if,” I said, punching him lightly on the bicep.
“You’re seriously okay with it?” he asked.
I nodded my head. “It’s actually a relief. Now we can be friends without worrying about you trying to grope me.”