(Jasper)
I rub my forehead and force myself back into the conversation.
"Will your parents help you with college?"
"They don't need to. I have a trust fund from my grandfather. I get it when I turn eighteen, and it's enough that money won't be a problem."
The distance between our lives feels enormous. Still, I smile for him.
"I'm glad you have that."
"That's why I don't want you worrying about where you'll live. I can afford a place for us. And if you want to go to college, I'll help you apply everywhere. I'd even pay for it if I had to."
My chest tightens. "What if you get a girlfriend and she wants to live with you?"
He laughs softly. "A girlfriend? I guess she'd stay in my room, but I can't see myself moving someone in right after high school." He flops back beside me. "Although, neither of us can cook, so maybe she could keep us from starving."
"I'll learn," I say quickly. "So you don't starve."
That thought makes me feel useful in a way I rarely do.
"Aww, buddy, you're sweet," he teases, poking my side.
"Hey, you know I hate that," I protest, poking him back.
We end up wrestling, which I have zero chance of winning. Hudson pins me down, laughing, and then terror crashes over me as my body betrays me.
"Oh God," I whisper. "Get off me."
He does instantly, concern replacing the smile, but I am already scrambling away. I bolt for the bathroom and slam the door behind me.
The boy staring back at me in the mirror looks pale and scared. I barely recognize him.
What if people can tell? Do I look feminine? Do I sound it?
There is a knock on the door.
"Jasper? Are you okay?"
No. I am not okay. My chest feels tight, and I cannot breathe. I bend over the sink, trying to suck in air, but the room spins. I knock over his cologne bottle as I stumble.
"Jasper?"
Hudson is there instantly, wrapping an arm around my chest.
"Breathe with me. In. Out. Slow."
He keeps repeating it until the panic loosens its grip, just like the first time we met.
When he lets go, I slide down to the floor, pressing my face into my hands. He sits beside me, close enough that our arms touch.
"Did I hurt you earlier?" he asks quietly.
I shake my head and look up. "No. You would never hurt me."
"Then what happened?"
Maybe he did not feel it. Maybe I got lucky.
"I panicked," I whisper.
Tell him. You should tell him.
You will lose him forever.
My stomach lurches, and I barely make it to the toilet before I am sick. Hudson swears softly and rubs my back while I throw up.
When it is over, he hands me a cool washcloth.
"Stay here. I'll get you a Sprite."
As soon as he leaves, the tears spill over. I bite my lip and force them back. I cannot fall apart. Not if it means losing the only person I love.
By the time he returns, I have rinsed my mouth and washed my hands.
"I told you to stay put," he says, frowning.
Before I can argue, he lifts me and carries me back to the bed.
"I could have walked," I mutter.
"After watching you nearly pass out and throw up, no," he replies. "Now drink."
I take small sips.
"Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"
He looks at me like I have lost my mind.
"I like taking care of you. If one of us is going to be the superhero, it's me."
He flexes his arm, and despite everything, a laugh escapes me.
"You're a dork."
"Yeah," he says, grinning. "But I'm your dork."
My heart stutters painfully.
"Yeah," I whisper. "You are."
We finish the movie with me curled against him, his arm steady at my back. When he turns off the light, his lips brush my forehead.
"I love you, buddy."
"I love you too," I manage without breaking.
When his breathing evens out, I turn away and press my hand over my mouth as I cry silently.
You are just his buddy. He is straight, and you are gay.
There is no denying it now.
I slip from the bed and creep downstairs, burying my face in a pillow as I sob. I sit alone in the dark for hours, praying that God will not hate me for who I am, and that the truth will not destroy the only place that has ever felt like home.
When the morning light starts filtering through the blinds, Hudson's mom comes out to make breakfast. She stops short when she sees me sitting on the couch. Maybe she can tell how close I am to breaking, because she gives me a gentle smile but does not ask what is wrong. I know I look awful. My eyes are puffy and red, and exhaustion is written all over my face.
"Do you want to help me make breakfast?"
I nod and follow her into the kitchen. She slips an arm around me in a side hug before getting started. Hudson's comment from last night pops into my head about us starving after high school.
"Mrs. Well… I mean Emily," I say quickly, "can you show me how to cook? Please?"
Her face lights up. "I would love to, Jasper. I can even make copies of the recipes that were passed down from my grandma and mom. Some of them are family secrets."
I take the apron she hands me. "Are you sure you want me to have those?"
She smiles warmly as she ties on her own apron. "Jasper, you are part of this family. I would be honored if you learned them."
She teaches me how to make pancakes and scrambled eggs, promising to show me how to cook bacon next time. She is patient and encouraging, giving me side hugs whenever I hesitate. I love every minute of it, even though it feels like there is a crushing weight on my chest. Breathing feels like work.