Page 121 of Secrets and Lies
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
He tilts his head to the side and keeps studying me for a few beats. “There’s something else,” he says definitively.
I drop my gaze to the floor.
He isn’t wrong, but I can’t tell him the truth without revealing another one of my biggest secrets, and that secret could ruin the tentative friendship we’re building.
“Tell me,” he says in a low, slightly raspy voice that sends a little zing of awareness through me, and I physically jerk like he poked me with a live wire.
That voice sounded exactly like Mr. X, but there’s no way Anthony and X are the same person.
That would just be insane.
It’s weird, but I haven’t spent much time thinking about who Mr. X is. Even after everything we’ve done and all I’ve learned about myself, it’s almost like my brain can’t reconcile that Mr. X exists as a person outside of my phone or when he sneaks into my room.
That separation is most likely the only reason I haven’t been obsessively trying to figure out who he is, and why I haven’t been freaking out over the situation when I probably should. It’s like large-scale compartmentalization, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping me from losing my marbles and adding one more thing to the pile of crap I’m dealing with.
The truth is that in my family, being queer isn’t okay, but it’s totally fine as long as it’sotherpeople who are queer. It’s hard to explain, but while my family isn’t homophobic or biphobic perse, they hold bigoted views, and that’s one of the main reasons I’ve kept my bi-curiosity, and now my bisexuality, under such tight wraps.
With my family, and especially my parents, everything boils down to image and reputation, and the illusion of perfection. Being queer isn’t wrong because of the whole queer aspect; it’s because it makes you different, and ultimately, it makes your life harder.
It’s fucked up, and it makes them sound awful, but my parents aren’t bad people, and they wouldn’t hate me or disown me or even treat me differently if I ever came out to them. It would just be one more thing to add to the list of why I’m such a disappointment and why I don’t fit in with them.
“West,” Anthony says softly. “Look at me.”
There’s a quiet authority to his voice that I can’t ignore, and I slowly lift my eyes to his.
“What else?” he asks again.
I shake my head. I can’t just blurt out that I’m into guys, not without him figuring out the truth.
“I think I know what it is,” he says in that same quiet voice from before. “You’re not entirely straight, are you?”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I once again have the ridiculous urge to run away, like when I was in the hall with Derek.
“And I know you’re into me,” he continues, his intense eyes never leaving mine.
The world around me narrows as a mix of snow and static shimmers around the edges of my vision, and it feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head as his words fully register.
“You do?” I croak stupidly. He knows?
The corners of his lips lift in a smile. “Did you think you were being subtle?”
Heat floods my system so quickly I legit get lightheaded, and I have no idea if it’s from humiliation, shock, or shame. Probably a combination of all three.
“I have to go,” I mumble as my flight instinct kicks in, and I jump to my feet.
Getting up so quickly after having such a strong physical reaction to him calling me out was a stupid thing to do, and I sway on my feet as the world around me spins and static explodes in my vision.
Strong hands grip my arms and hold me steady until my dizzy spell passes.
“I’m sorry,” I say, or more accurately, mumble when the world goes mostly normal again.
He lets go of my arms. “Strike one”
“Huh?” I lift my eyes to his. He’s not mad I’ve been creeping on him this entire time?
“Remember what I said about apologizing for things that don’t need an apology?”
