Vin's mouth hangs open for a moment, but he just closes it and smiles as the jittery sensation melts away into warmth. "Thanks," he says, "for coming to visit me. And for being here, too. I, uh, I dunno if I'da done all that good if it was just me 'n the parents after, y'know, all that."

Isaac wants to respond, desperately, but what he wants to say doesn't share much in common with what he's supposed to say in a situation like this.

His face or eyes must have given him away, because Vin asks, "What's on your mind?"

Isaac hesitates, and then sighs. "I want to say 'You're welcome,' but I'm not...it's not something that I...rrrgh, it, I don't...know how to say it."

"Heh, boy do I know that feeling," Vin muses. "I guess I wouldn't say 'You're welcome' to that, either. I mean, I guess you could say something like, 'I'm glad I could be here, too,' or, 'My pleasure,' or even just, 'It's cool.'" With a smile and a sparkle of playfulness in his eyes, he adds, "...Or I guess you could also say, 'Too bad, so sad' or, 'I'm hungry,' or, 'Wait, this isn't the bathroom.'"

Isaac stares at Vin with incredulity before busting into a giggle fit. "I wouldn't say those things!"

"What, you wouldn't even say 'My pleasure'?"

"I--no! I mean I wouldn't say the last things!" Isaac wriggles a hand out from under the covers and bops Vin on the head for his insolence.

Vin grins from ear to ear. "I know, I know. But seriously...I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I could be here, too," he echoes, adding, "I'm really glad that, what...everything that, um, happened today." His cheeks warm up with self-irritation.

"Don't worry, you don't gotta have the perfect words to say it or anything. I getcha, heh. ...Well, it's been a really long couple of days, and I'm pretty tired. I have a feeling it's gonna be another long day tomorrow, too, so I should probably try to get to sleep."

"Okay, Vin."

"Goodnight, Isaac."

"Goodnight, Vin."

"I love you."

Isaac's breath catches in his throat as the words light his neurons on fire. "I, I love you, too, Vin."

Vin grins broadly and closes his eyes, leaving Isaac with only one set of ignited emotions to deal with.

Within a surprisingly short time, Vin's breath changes to the slow, rhythmic cycle of deep sleep. Isaac, though, is still wide awake; his brain has far too much to process to even consider shutting off. He replays the events in no particular order, trying to absorb some sort of importance or meaning from them that he hasn't yet found, but he only ends up feeling lost. Between the fights that Vin had with his family, Brandon catching them in the act, and all the things that happened in "the act" itself, Isaac lies there, staring at Vin's placid face and the rise and fall of his chest, wondering how he can just close his eyes and go to sleep.

When Isaac opens his eyes and notices the sunlight streaming through the blinds, however, he isn't exactly sure how he fell asleep, either. For that matter, he has no idea where Vin is, or how he could have slept through him getting out of the bed.

Isaac sits up and slides off Vin's too-tall bed, grabbing his glasses from the dresser and rummaging through his suitcase for today's set of clothes. Each piece laid out in order, each piece donned in turn, he finally makes his way out to the bathroom. When he steps out, he catches sight of Vin sitting on the couch in the game room, and he heads over.

On the big-screen TV in the game room is an older-looking game, with two-dimensional pixelated characters talking through speech boxes. On the right side of the screen are three people in what look like bulky robot suits; two are in brown army-looking suits, and another has long green hair and is dressed more colorfully. They seem to be looking at some weird bird-like creature stuck in ice; Isaac watches silently for a while, completely lost as to what is happening or how Vin understands anything going on in it, but it holds his attention all the same.

Isaac zones out on the game for a bit, until it goes to a new scene where the music immediately catches his attention. He gasps, "That's the same melody as 'Terra's Theme'!"

Vin visibly jumps on the couch, gasping in tandem. Looking over his shoulder, he says, "God, Isaac, y'scared me half to death! I think I mighta peed a little!" Before Isaac has a chance to respond, he adds, "Not--not really. I'm fine. But still, my heart's pounding, heh."

"Oh, sorry," Isaac says sheepishly.

"C'mon over," Vin offers. "I'll show you the game that that song came from." Isaac sits next to Vin on the couch, and Vin continues playing the game. "This is Final Fantasy 6. Well, they call it Final Fantasy III in America, but that's 'cuz they had a bunch of others in Japan...y'know what, never mind. Anyway, so uh, this chick is Terra, which is why you hear her theme."

"It's not the same as the piano piece, though."

"Nah, this is like...the sad version, I guess. She just woke up in a strange place after...how long were you watching back there? What did you see?"

"Um, she was in a robot thing with two other people, and they were looking at a bird. In ice."

"Ah, okay, so just a few minutes, no biggie. I was kinda worried you were just back there forever and I didn't notice, heh." He pauses the game and twists around. "Uh, you hungry or anything? We got cereal, sandwiches, uh...hot dogs..."

"Yes, Vin, I'm hungry," Isaac comments.

"A'right, cool." Vin puts the controller down and vaults over the back of the couch, making Isaac take a step back in surprise. "Let's go check out the pantry."

Downstairs, Vin's mother is watching a documentary; Isaac catches snippets of people with long beards riding horse-drawn carriages as he makes his way with Vin into the kitchen. Isaac takes note, though, that Vin and his mother don't even say "good morning" to each other.

In the kitchen, Vin rummages through the potential food items. "I dunno what you like, but we got raisin bran and shredded wheat, uh...P-B-and-J...I think there's some ham and cheese in the fridge..."

Isaac considers the options. Raisin bran is okay, but the texture of shredded wheat reminds Isaac of wood chips. A sandwich sounds tasty, but Isaac isn't sure he could get over the weirdness of having a sandwich for breakfast.

"...Hm." Vin puts his hands on his hips and chews on his lower lip. "I guess we don't really have a lot right now. Anything sound good?"

"Raisin bran sounds good," Isaac says, aware that Vin mentioned at least three other things while he was contemplating the first set of choices, but unwilling to make him repeat them.

"A'right," he says, pulling the box off the top shelf of the pantry along with the bread. He helps Isaac find all the necessary ingredients and tools to make his cereal dreams a reality, and then for himself, he makes a ham sandwich with a large pile of barbecue-flavored chips. Isaac zones out, counting the times he chews, enjoying the occasional raisin -- he didn't understand why lots of other kids hate raisins so much, but oh well -- when he catches sight of Vin putting some of the barbecue chips inside of his sandwich. Isaac stares, completely taken off-guard by this.

Vin continues carefully layering the chips on the inside of his sandwich, making sure to cover the entire surface, when he catches sight of the paralyzed Isaac. "...What?" he asks with a slight laugh. "It tastes better this way. Don't judge."

"I, I wasn't judging," Isaac replies quickly.

"Heh, it's just that some people are all like 'oh my gawd, that's so gross, who even does thaaaat?'" He says the sentence in a comically nasally, drawn-out voice. "I'm like, dude, it's my sandwich. Lemme enjoy what I like. Also, don't knock it 'til you try it." He punctuates the sentence with a hand atop his sandwich, crunching the chips ino place. Laughing, Isaac decides to trust him on his opinion, and they scarf down their breakfast.

They head back upstairs and continue playing Final Fantasy; or, more accurately, Vin continues playing whilst Isaac splits his time between watching the screen and glancing at Vin sideways. At least, until a sudden scrabbling sound up the back of the couch makes Isaac jump higher than Vin did earlier.

Mack nonchalantly struts across the top of the couch, as if he had not just made a sound akin to a vertical stampede up the back of the sofa. He saunters over to Vin and thumps his head into Vin's temple, holding it there for a moment until Vin reaches up and starts scratching him behind the ear.

"Oh, hey there, Mack," he says, picking the controller back up. "In a loving mood today?"

Mack responds with another gentle headbutt before stepping onto his shoulder. Vin leans slightly to the side, and Mack walks down his torso into his lap. He stands there for a moment, looking around the room; Isaac can hear him purring loudly, and for a moment, Mack looks up at him; the feeling they share is surprisingly close to how Isaac typically feels when he sees Vin, only with a bit less excitement buzzing through it. "He really likes you," Isaac observes.

"What, did he tell you that?" Vin asks with a smile and a scratch on Mack's back.

"Yes, Vin. Or, I guess I saw it." Isaac still isn't sure what verb he should use to talk about the emotion-sharing thing.

"Oh, heh. I was actually kidding, but...yeah, I dunno what I expected there." He laughs and shakes his head. Mack busies himself turning back and forth in Vin's lap for a moment before finally flopping down and draping his arms over Vin's leg, purring contentedly.

They zone out on games for a while, Isaac's attention cycling between Mack, Vin, and the screen. The music in the game is nice, with cream- and lemon-colored woodwinds, midnight blue harps, smooth brown horns and ash-brown timpanis all creating a dynamic symphonic score. The graphics leave something to be desired, though, as the original port of the game was made before Isaac was born. Still, any time sitting next to Vin is time well spent.

At one point, Mack starts sniffing at Vin's hand. Vin, controller still in hand, extends a knuckle out to Mack, who sniffs it for a moment before running it along his cheek and behind his ear; Isaac can hear him purring loudly as he does so. Mack repeats the action a few times before twisting his torso upside down and tucking his arms in, pointing his chin up at Vin from his lap. Isaac looks at Vin, whose attention is glued to the screen even as he navigates his petting routine with Mack by touch alone, which is fascinating to Isaac. He notes that it would be difficult to play the game normally while petting, but the dialogue sections were essentially one-button interactions, leaving a hand free for petting.

Isaac thinks back to the theater, when he unintentionally rested his head on Vin instead of his mother. He thinks for a moment, and on a whim, he rubs his cheek lightly on Vin's arm in imitation of Mack. It is as amusing as it is comforting to Isaac, and he does it again before settling in to lean on Vin's arm.

"Heh, you a cat alla sudden?" Vin asks, looking down at Isaac.

Isaac looks up, and a euphoric, playful contentment bounces back and forth between them. Vin snorts a laugh and lays his head on top of Isaac's, warming Isaac to the core. They stay like that for a few minutes, until they hear Vin's mom's voice from downstairs.

"Vin?"

"Yeah?"

"Come over to the rail for a sec."

Vin sighs and gets up; Mack leaps off at the first inkling of Vin standing, and Isaac is left alone on the couch with a pit of disappointment. Vin walks back and calls down, "Yeah?"

"Your father wants to be part of the conversation today, so we're gonna wait until after dinner. Izzat okay with you?"

"...Yeah, that's fine." Vin's voice drops in pitch and intensity when he says that.

"A'right." There is a long, awkward silence behind Isaac, broken eventually by the sound of Brandon's door opening. Isaac looks over to see Brandon, dressed in black boxers, head into the bathroom as Vin returns to the couch. "Man. I was kinda hopin' you could be here for me for that conversation. Don't really like the idea of sittin' alone in the witness chair with my family askin' me questions left 'n right."

"I can be here for you," Isaac suggests.

Vin just shakes his head. "Nah, it'll be after 5 o'clock, and I'm pretty sure your mom is gonna want you home by then."

"...Oh." Isaac stares at the floor.

"Eh, it'll be fine. I can hold my own. If anything, I'll just imagine you're here, holding my hand." He reaches over and squeezes Isaac's hand to illustrate; he meets Isaac's eyes with a blossom of warmth and giddiness, both to which Isaac is sure he's contributing.

A moment later, Brandon flushes and walks out of the bathroom, paying no attention to them as he returns to his room. Vin looks over and says, "Y'know, I should prolly take a shower," he says. At Isaac's confused glance, he continues, "Honestly I prefer to take 'em in the mornings, like before school, so I can get my hair done right and feel nice and clean for the day, y'know? I only take 'em at night if I need to. Like, y'know, if I've been...active." He wiggles his eyebrows to suggest a hidden meaning behind his words.

"Like working out?" Isaac suggests.

In a lower voice, Vin remarks, "Or having sex." He winks.

"Oh." Isaac blushes, even as he laughs at Vin's contagious energy.

"But yeah, I'ma take a shower -- I'll be back in a bit. Uh, feel free to go exploring around on the game, or mess around on the keyboard or whatever." Vin hops up and heads into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Shortly afterward, the hissing of the water starts up, and Isaac is left with steamy memories of last night's shower session.

Isaac wouldn't know the first step toward making progress in the video game, so he heads over to the keyboard. Before he can get situated, though, he hears the click of Brandon's door opening; he looks over to see Brandon glance at the bathroom door a moment before turning and meeting eyes with Isaac. He feels a muted sense of apology; a strange sort of feeling like when Isaac has to present something to the class, although without the oppressive anxiety attached; and a feeling like when Isaac found out that Vin plays music instead of just sports. Isaac casts his eyes downward, but watches as Brandon approaches.

Brandon sits on the arm of the couch closest to the keyboard. "Hey," he grunts in a low voice. "Isaac, right?"

"Yes, s--Brandon."

"Good. Just wanted to make sure to get my brother's boyfriend's name right."

Isaac darts his eyes upward in shock to catch a small feeling of amusement from Brandon to match his barely-visible smile. Brandon continues, "Look. Don't ever let Vin know I said any of this okay?" He must be able to read Isaac's expression, because he quickly adds, "It's not bad, I promise."

"O-okay, Brandon."

"I owe you an apology. I really thought Vin was gonna do something stupid -- and I guess I ended up being right, but not about what he was going to do. Anyway, I thought he was gonna use you, and...I guess I was wrong. So, sorry about that; I don't like to think I coulda been the one to break up a good thing."

Isaac takes a moment, both to absorb what Brandon says, and to readjust the way he thinks about Brandon. "It's okay," he eventually responds.

"Also, do me a favor."

"Yes, Brandon?"

"Treat him right." He looks back at the bathroom for a moment. "Seriously, don't ever tell him I told you this, because he won't be able to deal with it. Just trust me on that. But here's the deal: he ain't that strong. Like, as a person. They seem to think he's the perfect kid an' all that --" he nods his head toward the floor to indicate the person sitting in the living room -- "but he's, well. He's not weak, but he ain't the hero he likes to pretend to be. He gets hurt, just like anyone else. Maybe more so. You get me?"

"...I get you, Brandon." Isaac runs through the various interactions he's had with Vin, and Brandon's conclusion seems to match up.

"I watched him do stupid shit as a bully, I watched him break down after he realized how stupid he was, and I watched him start trying way too hard to make up for it. It ain't a good look on him. But then I see how he acts around you, and it's almost like the little brother I knew before all that shit happened. Way different than he acts around his basketball friends. ...Maybe you'll be good for him after all."

Isaac isn't sure what to say in response, but he feels flush with pride at the compliment.

"Hey," Brandon says after a short moment. "You know any Sabaton? Manson? ...Disturbed?"

Isaac stares blankly at the couch.

"Fair enough." Brandon stands up. "He should be done with his shower soon. If it comes up, you can say we talked, but just let him know I said I was happy for you guys. He doesn't need to know the rest, a'right? Promise you -- if he heard I said anything like that, we'd have to fight, and then he'd get a black eye, and I really don't wanna bruise my knuckles on his face again, y'know? ...I'm kidding. Mostly. Just trust me on this one, a'right?"

Isaac doesn't like keeping information from others, but he sees no reason to make Vin fight his brother again. "A'right, Brandon."

"...You're a good kid." Isaac watches Brandon walk back to his room; Isaac assumes that Brandon isn't a full adult yet, or he would likely have moved out of the house, so he assumes that Brandon is around 17 or maybe 18 at the oldest; still, he guesses that's enough space to call Isaac a "kid" still. Anyway, Isaac would definitely feel weird being called a "man," so he figures the point is moot.

Only a second after Brandon closes his door, Isaac hears the shower in the bathroom stop. Isaac marvels at the timing.

When Vin gets out, they debate for a bit on what to do, eventually settling on a game of rummy again. Before they finish, however, Isaac gets a call. He dejectedly pulls his phone out of his pocket and answers it, knowing full well that it's the Call of Doom.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, dear. Are you ready for me to pick you up?"

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"Can...can I stay until dinner?"

"Isaac, no, dear."

"But Vin says, um, he's going to have the, he wants to tell his parents why he...attempted suicide, and he wants me to be there." Vin looks over to Isaac, and though his face is blank, his emotions tell of a fleeting hope, a preemptive disappointment, and a touch of irritation.

"I understand why you would want to be there, and why he would, but that's a family discussion. You don't need to be there for that. I'll be by to pick you up in about fifteen minutes; make sure you're packed and ready."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

"Bye."

"Bye, Mom."

After Isaac hangs up, Vin mutters, "Bud, you don't gotta spread it all around, okay?"

Isaac stares blankly, confused; he reads that same irritation, laced with shame and a thin yellow fear.

"I mean, I know that your mom already knows about what happened, but just...don't go around talking about it, yeah? That's my story to tell. ...I mean, like, if anyone talks about it, I want it to be me, y'know?"

"Oh. I'm sorry, Vin. I didn't...I didn't mean to make you mad."

"Nah nah, I'm not mad. I mean, you can see how I feel, yeah?" Isaac nods. "So, just...keep it a secret for me, yeah? I'm just not ready for the world to know about this kinda thing."

"Yes, sir. I mean Vin."

Vin rolls eyes eyes and smiles. "Gah, ya make me feel like I'm some kinda angry teacher disciplining a student, heh." Isaac laughs a bit with him, though he still feels bad.

They finish the game with muted emotion, neither one saying anything other than game-related statements. Afterward, Isaac double-checks that all of his stuff is properly packed away, and he and Vin wait on the driveway for Eileen to show up.

"I wish I could stay," Isaac pouts.

"Yeah, that'd be nice, but y'know." Vin digs a rock out from the crack between the pavement slabs and flicks it down the driveway. "It'll be fine. I don't love the idea of talkin' about it to them, but I'll live. Uh, so to speak, heh." Another moment passes. Vin turns to Isaac and says, "I'm really glad we're going out."

Isaac wiggles side to side a bit as he replies, "Me too, Vin."

"But, uh...you know how I said the whole thing about not talking about my suicide attempt? We also can't talk about us going out, you know that, right?"

Isaac sighs. "Yes, Vin, because your parents don't know, and the people at school don't know either. And then I don't want to, I don't want people to know I'm gay, because I'm already different enough."

Vin responds by taking Isaac's hand. "Well, you're my kind of 'different.' An' all the other assholes at school can go die in a fire. Or, I dunno, they can go fuck themselves; they don't have to die."

A few highly improbable scenarios run through Isaac's mind of Jason trying to follow that advice, which, along with his surprise at Vin's language, sets him giggling. After the moment passes, though, Isaac asks, "Why do people hate gay people?"

"I dunno, man. People are stupid. You gotta be exactly like them or they don't like you. I mean, I like fittin' in as much as the next guy, but I know how you feel." He points to his eyes. "But yeah, I mean, 'haters gonna hate,' an' all that."

Isaac considers a facet of the situation he hadn't considered before. "Do people hate bisexuals as much as they hate gay people?"

"Dude, people hate anything that isn't what they are. Honestly, most guys think of bisexuals as just 'gay.' I mean I heard someone say that bisexuals are 'just afraid to admit they're gay,' and I'm like, is it really so hard to imagine that someone can like boys and girls? Really?" He shakes his head. "Anyway, yeah. I hate havin' to keep something like this a secret, but I think it's best for the both of us."

Isaac stops himself from picking at his thumb. "I guess."

"Well, before your mom gets here, I just wanted to thank you again for being an amazing person, and remind you that I love you."

They meet eyes, and the feeling is like a warm sunbeam on a cool day, and the moment right before opening the first birthday gift. "Isaac responds, "I love you too, Vin."

Vin leans in and gives Isaac a quick peck on the lips, nothing like the kisses they shared in bed. "As much as I'd like to sit here and make out, I don't wanna get caught by your mom, heh."

Isaac laughs nervously at the prospect of it. Nevertheless, until his mom shows up, his thoughts are suffused with the glow of hearing Vin say those words.

Vin offers Isaac a friendly goodbye wave and heads inside as Isaac and his mother drive off. A minute in, she asks, "How was the sleepover?"

"Good, Mom!"

"Well, that's more enthusiasm than I normally hear from you. I'll take that as a good sign." Isaac isn't sure what she means, but she continues before he gets a chance to ponder. "Did Vin's brother scare you again?"

"No, Mom. Brandon is, he's actually nice."

"Oh! Well, then. That's good to hear. What made him scary before?"

"He, um, he dresses in black, and then he told me things that, that scared me."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me that...he told me that Vin used to be a b-bully, and then I got scared, and then Vin isn't, isn't a bully anymore. ...And then today he said I was a 'good kid.'"

"Who, Brandon?"

"Yes, Mom."

"He's right, you know."

"Mom..."

She doesn't reply. Isaac is certain she's smiling, like she usually does when she embarrasses him.

"Well. I'm glad you had fun. We need to stop by the grocery store on the way home, just so you know." 

*** 

That night, Isaac spends most of his time going over the events of the previous day; it was, after all, a very eventful day. Even though he still feels emotionally numb about a lot of the events -- it sometimes takes him a few days to know how he really feels about some situations -- it still gives him a giddy euphoria to think of Vin saying "I love you" to him. During his bath, he thinks about the intimate time they spent together, especially when Vin lowered himself onto Isaac. I had sex, he marvels to himself. Well, kinda. It lasted all of maybe five seconds before Brandon burst in and scared them both soft. Still, thinking about what they did, and the shower afterward, makes quick work of his needs and leaves him more time that evening to process the events of the long weekend. He goes to bed that night simultaneously feeling both exhausted and restless as his mind works to accept the way things are going, which feels almost too good to be true to Isaac.

Tuesday starts out remarkably normal and routine, something that Isaac missed -- even with how exciting the weekend was, few things beat the comfort of consistency. Alarm, clothes, Mom, car, breakfast, Living Room, Christian's boisterous chatter. One significant change is that David walks in calmly, or at least more so than he used to; Isaac meets his eyes and, amidst an immiscible lake of nervousness and relief, he sees a sparkling clean hallway, empty of all people, then a fleeting image of the drawing he has been working on before he breaks eye contact and walks to his table. Isaac has to take a deep breath to clear out the adrenaline high of David's anxiety.

David goes to his desk and is about to sit down, but instead turns around to Mr. Coleman and points to his own groin, the sign that he needs to use the restroom. Isaac finds it vaguely amusing that David is allowed to do something that, if anyone else did it, would be considered quite rude. Mr. Coleman looks to Mrs. Jimenez and asks quietly, "Could you? I'll get the others started." Mrs. Jimenez escorts David back into the hallway to the bathroom; David seems to be surprisingly okay with the idea of being in the hallway so soon after his (albeit lesser) morning panic attack.

As Isaac watches him leave the room, Mr. Coleman remarks, "He has made amazing strides in such a short time, thanks to you."

Isaac's silence communicates his confusion about how to respond to the statement. Mr. Coleman continues, "You know how bad it was. I've literally had to clean up the kitchen floor when, well, he refused to go when he had to go." He chuckles at the end of his bizarre sentence. "Still, you changed his life -- or at least his school life."

All the attention brings heat to Isaac's cheeks, though he is at least happy for David now that he isn't panicking all the time. Mr. Coleman is distracted from further conversation by Christian incessantly calling his name in order to show him the circulatory system he drew for science class.

Reading class is tolerable; Isaac notes that Mr. Guthrie's shirt is the same crimson red of a major third interval, and the lesson is about point of view, which is a bit easier for Isaac to grasp. He has some trouble thinking what someone else would be thinking, but he can figure out first or third person without issue.

Gym class starts out with the same dread of Vin not being there, though it is a bit less each day he walks into the locker room. Juan smiles his toothy, inviting grin and scoots aside as he sees Isaac, giving him a spot on the bench. Isaac takes his stuff out of the locker, half-expecting another pair of sunglasses or maybe even a scorpion, and sits down next to Juan to dress out. He sneaks a glance over at Juan when he takes his jeans off; he is wearing a comfortable-looking pair of navy blue boxer briefs which show off just enough for Isaac to need to look away. He does his best to keep his mind thinking about the colors of his favorite songs, so it doesn't explore the obvious path.

"Hey," Juan greets him. "How are you? Like, with the bruises and stuff."

"I'm okay," Isaac replies; none of them have any passive pain anymore, and even his side is only a vague ache if he moves it wrong.

"What about Vin? I know he wasn't at school Friday -- do you, have you heard anything?"

Isaac freezes. How do I answer this without telling the wrong thing? "He's...he's, um, okay, Juan."

"Oh, did you talk to him?"

"Yes, Juan."

"Ah, cool." He doesn't press the issue further, so Isaac doesn't answer the question further.

Gym class itself is relatively inoffensive, though, especially since Grease-Hair isn't around. Near the end of class, the coach blows the whistle and gathers the crowd. "Remember that your "Regional Games" project is due starting tomorrow; we will get through as many of them as we can between Wednesday and Thursday, so don't get caught off-guard. Go get dressed back in."

Isaac stops, flush with panic, but Juan intercepts the moment within seconds. "Hey, I got it all covered. It's super simple, don't worry." He pats Isaac on the shoulder and says, "Cool?"

Isaac takes a few breaths to calm himself. "Cool, Juan. I was scared for a moment."

"Yeah, I could see it," Juan admits. "Let's go."

Isaac silently laments that it's just as easy for people to read him as it is difficult for him to read others like that. "Okay, Juan."

On the way to his math class, he is greeted by Mrs. Davis. "Good morning, Isaac."

"Good morning, Mrs. Davis."

"I didn't get to say hello on Friday--oh my, what happened?"

Isaac stops, trying to figure out what she is talking about. Does she know about Vin? That's the only thing that happened on Friday. How would--

"Your nose is all bruised!"

...Oh. "I got, um, beat up."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's okay, ma'am."

"No, I--who did this to you?"

"Grease--um, Jason. I don't know his last name. He doesn't go here anymore."

"Oh." She says this in a much lower voice. "I know which Jason you mean." She sighs. "I have to get to my class, but take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay, ma'am."

"Goodbye, Isaac."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Davis."

Math is also comfortingly routine, and at lunch, Christian pays almost no attention to Isaac's face or the like. He prattles on for some time about how amazing his deck is in Clash Royale now, and some about how he was thinking of starting up Terraria again even though he stopped playing a long time ago, and some other things that Isaac misses entirely. Until he hears "gay."

"What?" Isaac says reflexively, mouth full of quesadilla.

Christian completely ignores the irony. "Did you ask Vin if he was gay yet?"

Isaac takes a moment to finish his bite of food -- during which Christian asks a few more times -- but even after he swallows, he still feels a lump in his throat. Caught between lying to his friend and giving away another friend's secret puts him in an extremely uncomfortable spot.

"Did you?" Christian asks for somewhere around the fifth time.

"...Christian?" Isaac asks quietly.

"What?"

"Um..." The only thing he can think of to get out of the situation safely is to take a chance, one that even he knows is desperate. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Okay," he says nonchalantly, "what is it?"

"I mean it," Isaac emphasizes. "If you tell anyone else, I will never talk t-to you again! Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise!" Christian says with equal emphasis.

Isaac takes a deep breath. "Okay. Um, so. Yes, I asked Vin if he was gay."

"What did he say? Is he?"

"No, Christian. He's bisexual."

"Oh." Christian stays quiet a moment. "So he probably is going out with that girl."

Isaac isn't sure what he expected for an answer, but he's certain that wasn't it. "No, Christian, he's not."

"Oh, did you ask him that, too?"

"No, Christian. He's going out with...with me."

Christian gasps so loudly that Isaac almost lunges across the table to shush him. Christian covers his mouth with both hands, but Isaac isn't sure he's ever seen Christian's eyes get that big. When he finally removes his hands, he whispers at an actually quiet volume, "You two are boyfriends?!"

Isaac looks around to see if anyone is spying on their conversation; as has always been the case, nobody is looking their way. "Yes, Christian. I mean it -- don't tell anyone!"

"I won't, I won't!" Christian replies, a little more loudly. "But that's like, you're going out with the most popular guy in school!"

Isaac considers the veracity of that statement. It might actually be true, he considers. He feels suddenly watched, and shrinks in on himself unconsciously.

Christian continues, "Man, you could, like, be the popular kid in school and stuff if you go out with him, because people will see you two together and since he's really popular, then you would be popular because you're his boy--"

"Christian! Shut...up! You're telling everyone!!"

Christian closes his mouth so fast that his teeth click. "Right, sorry Isaac." Back to his almost-effective whisper, he adds, "But, that's--that's really cool!"

After Isaac is convinced that the world does not know of his relationship, he says, "That's why, um, I didn't want you to be with us in the piano room. I...just wanted to be with him." He catches himself picking his thumb and grasps it under his other fingers to stop himself.

"Ohhhhhh," he intones. "I see." Christian takes another bite. For once actually waiting until he's finished, he adds, "Um, does he play any games? Does he play Clash Royale?"

"No, um...yes, he does play games, but I don't think he plays Clash Royale. He plays Soul Calibur and then some old games on his PS4. And then some chess and cards."

"Aw. Maybe you should get him to play Clash Royale so he can join our clan and we can like beat everyone ever!"

Isaac doesn't respond to the obviously absurd idea. Christian seems to abandon the idea in favor of his vanilla pudding, which works just as well for Isaac. A few moments pass before Isaac notices that Christian has stopped eating, staring at his almost-finished pudding. He wouldn't normally notice, except that vanilla pudding is the quickest thing that Christian usually devours.

Still, Isaac doesn't acknowledge it until Christian says, "I wanna go out with somebody."

"Who?" Isaac asks between sips of milk.

"I don't know," Christian admits. “Just, I wanna go out with somebody and be their boyfriend."

Isaac, not normally keen on questioning others conversationally, finds himself curious, given the recent conversation. "With a boy or a girl?"

Christian actually sits and thinks about it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, eyes fixated on some spot on the far wall. "I dunno. Girl, I guess, maybe."

"Don't you know?" Isaac asks quizzically.

Christian shrugs.

"So, um, do you think maybe you're bisexual too, then?" Isaac prods, still astonished at Christian's nonchalance.

"I dunno." He finally takes the last bite of his vanilla pudding with his usual gusto.

Isaac just stares, unable to figure out a way to pierce Christian's armor of indifference. The entire conversation just boggles him, so he goes back to finishing his food in silence; Christian, strangely, does the same.

After an awkward end to lunch, Isaac goes through the rest of his classes relatively routinely, passing the time by wondering how Vin's conversation went, how he's doing right now, whether he's feeling better than he was over the weekend, how Brandon ended up a completely different person than he expected, and the like. Even though he doesn't really remember the lessons that were being taught in those classes, the processing time helps him feel like he has a handle on the whirlwind of the past few days.

After school, he gives the standard call to his mom and heads to the piano rooms before realizing that Vin said he had practice today. Crestfallen, he sits down at the piano and starts to mess around with the Arabesque, though it really doesn't do a lot to hold his attention. This ends up just fine, though, when Isaac catches sight of Juan in the orchestra room putting his violin away. Juan turns and meets eyes with Isaac through the practice room door's window; being across a long room makes it hard for Isaac to really get a clear feel of Juan's emotions, but the general excitement of seeing a familiar face is immediately recognizable to Isaac, followed by a vague feeling of yellow fuzz. Juan makes his way to the room and knocks; Isaac beckons him in and says, "Hi, Juan."

"Hey, how's it going?"

"It's going well, Juan." After a short pause, Isaac quickly adds, "Um, how's it going? For you?" He makes sure not to meet Juan's onyx gaze to avoid cluing him in on his awkward embarrassment.

"Eh, it's okay," Juan says. "Um, I wanted to talk about, you know, the...um, is now a good time? Are you busy?"

Juan's conversational pivoting throws Isaac off for a moment. He stares blankly, processing, and says, "Oh. Um, I'm...I'm not busy."

"Okay. So um, I wanted to apologize for what happened with the fight thing. I feel like I should have done something...I dunno, like, right there, instead of running off like I did. I--I know I already said sorry, but I really feel bad about it."

Isaac stares blankly at the wall, near enough to Juan's face to track his movements, but definitely nowhere near eye contact. "But you would have gotten hurt, Juan."

"I know, but you were getting beat up, like, right there, and I ran away! I dunno, I just feel like such a coward for doing that." He takes a deep breath and sighs.

"But...you got Vin and then, and then he, um, saved me." The idea fills him with equal parts awe and dread; he pushes the memory out of his mind before it takes root.

"Yeah, I guess." Juan picks at a spot on his yellow-and-blue shirt, plucking a piece of lint off the "Tigres" logo on his chest and flicking it away. After more awkward silence, he perks up and asks, "Oh, so you still up for coming to my sister's quince this weekend?"

"Yes, Juan," Isaac says as he is assaulted with more conflicting emotions. "Um, how...how many people are going to be there?"

"Oh, God, like the whole family most likely, so, I dunno. A lot?" Juan laughs nervously. "But you don't have to worry about the, about all that, you know, if you don't want to. Mamá said I can just have people come over, like, at the end of the party so I can do all the quinceañera stuff and then we can hang out. Is that okay?"

"That's okay, Juan," Isaac says, exhaling.

"Okay. Cool." Pause. Juan takes a deep breath and glances at Isaac, who happens to be looking over in his direction; as their eyes meet, Isaac is momentarily intensely uncomfortable, full of anxiety and dread. Both boys look in other directions quickly. "Sorry, sorry," Juan says quickly. "Um, so, there's another thing I wanted to talk to you about, I mean, to ask you."

"Yes, Juan?"

"Ummm...so you know how you can tell how people are feeling, right? When you look at them."         Isaac silently waits for Juan to continue, which he does: "So, can...can you tell when people feel...you know...?" At Isaac's continued silence, Juan tries to communicate with a few hand gestures that mean precisely nothing to Isaac. Finally, Juan says in a lower voice, "Like, you know how when you looked at me in the locker room, and like, I, um, you caught me looking at you, and..." he trails off.

Isaac makes the connection. "Do you mean when you were getting an erection?"

Juan grimaces. "So you knew, huh?"

"Yes, Juan."

Juan hides his face behind a hand. "Oh God, I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry..."

Isaac shrugs. "It's okay. It happened to me too, with Mr. Guthrie." Isaac nods, and then suddenly pauses, wide-eyed, horrified at his admission.

Juan moves his hand away from his face. He doesn't answer for a moment, but finally replies, "Oh. You mean, you got a hardon and then looked at Mr. Guthrie?" He furrows his brows, but his growing smile tells Isaac that Juan isn't angry or concerned.

"I mean that...I...um." Isaac takes a deep breath and weighs his options. Here we go again, he laments. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yeah sure. What's up?"

"I'm gay, Juan."

"Oh! ...Really?" His eyes go wide, and his expression is unfathomable to Isaac.

Isaac takes a chance and looks again into Juan's sparkling black eyes, where he finds a very different landscape: jittery with adrenaline, open with surprise, sparkling with excitement, and underscored by the reaching, tugging feeling of attraction. He averts his eyes and responds, "Yes, Juan."

"Cool! I'm gay, too!" Juan says emphatically, and then stops for a moment. "Wow. It feels weird to say that. 'I'm gay.' Hah, I don't think I ever said it out loud before."

Isaac asks, "Did you just figure it out, too?"

"Well, kinda -- I guess I kinda knew since maybe 4th grade if I think about it. When we first started dressing out for gym, I was always looking at the other boys in their underwear, but...it means a little more now." He laughs a bit, in a similar way to how Isaac has heard Vin laugh even when he's not feeling amused; Isaac ventures a glance at Juan's eyes, but Juan doesn't look back. Juan adds, "I don't really have anyone to talk to about it -- or, I guess I didn't, anyway -- my family is really traditional, and they're pretty against it. I have a gay uncle that we never go see; I think Papá hates him." He sighs. "So, um, are your parents okay with it?"

"Yes, Juan. My mom said she loves me no matter what."

"What about your dad? I'm more afraid that Papá will try to beat it out of me if I ever tell him." He grimaces.

"My dad's dad--um, my dad's d-dead," he replies. As Juan turns a wide-eyed, open-mouthed face toward Isaac, he quickly adds, "He died before I was born, and then, um, you don't need to be sorry. Vin said he was sorry, too, and then, but, you don't...it's okay. I didn't know him." Isaac grits his teeth to stop from giving any further failed explanations.

Juan's face relaxes. "...Oh." He breaks the following silence with a snorted laugh. "Man, I had no idea you were gay, too. So like, you said you just figured it out, huh?"

"Yes, Juan. I just figured it out."

Juan smiles slightly. "Was it Vin? I bet it was Vin."

Isaac's eyes go wide. How does he know? What does he know? Did I tell him by accident? What--

Juan interrupts his stream of panic by saying, "What? I've seen how you look at him. I mean...he is pretty hot." Juan laughs unexpectedly, and Isaac joins in as he tries to stop his mind from bringing up proof of Juan's observation. Juan adds, a bit more quietly, "I, uh, kinda have a thing for lighter hair. I dunno." He shrugs. "And eyes."

There's another long pause in the conversation, a bit longer than the rest. Juan finally says, "Hey, Isaac?"

"Yes, Juan?"

"Am I annoying?"

Isaac looks reflexively at Juan, his confusion prompting him to look for more information; Juan's eyes continue to emanate anxiety, but the pulling feeling is much stronger, and is mixed with a very complicated melange of other emotions tangled up and fighting to suppress each other. Isaac looks down a bit to break eye contact and replies, "No, Juan. You're not annoying."

"Oh. Okay, cool. I just...I'm always afraid that, like, I'm talking too much. I used to get in trouble for talking way too much in class, and...I dunno, I just, I know that you don't talk a lot. I thought maybe I was bugging you."

"No, Juan, you're not bugging me, and then, you don't, you don't talk a lot. Or too much."

"Well, thanks," Juan says with a half-smile. "I guess it's just me, then. Why don't you talk much? Like, I know people used to call you names 'cuz of it, but I'm just curious."

Isaac sighs, thinking about the "Mime Boy" nonsense from the bully crowd. "I...I talk sometimes. I answer questions when people ask them, and then I..." He stops. Is that all I really do? "Sometimes I say things. Other things. But I'm always scared that I'm going to stutter, or that I'm going to say s-stomething -- say s-something s-s-stupid...Rrgh! See?"

"What? That's like maybe the second time you stuttered this whole time," Juan points out. "It's not a big deal."

Isaac sighs. "But I hate it, and then I sound s--I sound dumb."

Juan leans forward. "Isaac, bro, you're like way smart. Nobody thinks you're dumb. If they say that, they're stupid. Don't worry about the stutter, and I mean, we all say stupid things. God, I've stuck my foot in my mouth like a million times."

Isaac frowns. "Why?"

"I dunno, same reason anyone does. I just say stupid things sometimes."

"But, Juan, what does that have to do with sticking your foot in your mouth? That's gross."

Juan stares for a moment, but then laughs. "No, no, like, it's an expression, you know? Like, not for real."

"Oh." Isaac is relieved that Juan doesn't normally put his feet in his mouth, for a variety of reasons. "I, um, heard that before, and then I always thought th-that they were actually putting their feet in their mouth."

"Ew," Juan says. "I mean, I guess that's better than getting your mouth washed out with soap if you say palabrotas." None of what Juan just said makes any sense to Isaac, so he just stares blankly until Juan continues, "Like, bad words. Did your mamá ever do that to you?"

"I don't say bad words."

"You did that one time in gym, though," Juan says with a narrow-eyed, toothy grin.

"I--that was an accident!" Isaac says in defense.

Juan just laughs. "But anyway, you really should talk more," Juan suggests. "I mean, if people make fun of you for saying stupid things, but they make fun of you for not talking as well, then heck, you might as well just talk, right? People are assholes and are gonna make fun anyway. I get called 'Ratatouille' all the time or 'maricón' or -- oh, that means like 'fag' in Spanish -- but, like, people make fun of my height, or my teeth, or I even got 'beaner' a few times and I'm like, this school is over half Hispanic and you're gonna be racist against Hispanics? Like really?"

Isaac thinks back, contemplating some of the things that Mr. Coleman has discussed with him about conversations and communication. "Mr. Coleman told me that I should give more responses, like 'yeah' or 'okay' so that people know I'm listening."

"Yeah, exactly! And you can like, you know, add something that you think maybe people would want to know -- like you did with the thing with Mr. Guthrie earlier."

Isaac feels the room get warmer. "Yeah, but then I felt stupid because I said s-something that gave away a secret."

"Well, yeah, but you also made me feel better, and then hey, we learned something about each other, right? I mean, look, you don't have to just talk everyone's ears off -- people used to joke that I'd talk to a brick wall, hehe -- but you, like, it's okay to say more if you want to, like when you're with people you know. So yeah, you should talk more." A moment later he adds, "...I like it when you talk."

Isaac lets the information soak in for a moment, but ventures an, "Okay, Juan," if for no other reason than to try it out. He's not one hundred percent sure what kind of response he is supposed to get from Juan, so Juan's blank expression seems as appropriate as anything else would be.

"So," Juan says after a moment, "which one is Mr. Guthrie?"

"Oh. Um, he is tall, and then he has a beard and a deep voice, and then he wears, um, shiny shirts."

"Oh THAT guy," Juan remarks. "He's in my reading class with a group of kids."

This is normally a time where Isaac would keep silent, but he decides to try to add to the conversation. "He's my reading teacher. Or, um, Mrs. Stone is my reading teacher, but he h-helps me."

"Yeah," Juan says. "Hm. He is kinda hot, for a teacher." Juan glances at Isaac and adds, "What? He is! Hey, he gave you a boner, didn't he?"

"Juan..." Isaac moans, shrinking in on himself the same way he does when his mother calls him out.

"Hey, man, I get awkward boners just going up to the whiteboard in math class, so don't feel bad." He laughs, which makes Isaac feel a little less exposed, and says, "But he'd be better looking with lighter hair like yours."

Isaac tries to imagine Mr. Guthrie with light brown hair, but he can't resolve the image in his head at all. "I can't see it," he replies.

Juan just shrugs. He pulls out his phone and gasps slightly when he looks at the screen. "Crap, I meant to leave a while ago. "I wanna talk more, but I gotta go -- maybe we can continue later?"

"Okay, Juan," Isaac says, getting his own phone out to check the time.

"Cool. And thanks -- for being cool. You're...yeah. Uh, see you later?"

"See you later, Juan."

"Cool. Bye!" He opens the door and looks back one last time; Isaac meets his gaze for a tiny second, wherein he feels no more nervousness, but he does feel excitement, a feeling that he recognizes as belonging, connection, and a frustration very similar to how Isaac feels when he butchers an attempt at a sentence. The door closes on them before Isaac can contemplate any of those feelings, though, so he uses the rest of his time to think on the things Juan said. Maybe conversations aren't as scary as Isaac has always made them out to be. 

*** 

At home, Isaac occupies himself playing some Clash Royale to keep up with Christian, though a significant chunk of his brain is occupied instead with processing his conversation with Juan and, of course, with thinking about Vin. In the middle of dinner -- which is just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into three strips -- the Arabesque floats up from Isaac's pocket, denoting a call. Isaac reaches slowly into his pocket, assuming it's a spam caller; when he sees "Vin Ward" on the screen, though, he practically spits his sandwich out answering the phone.

"Hewwo?"

"Hey, Isaac -- are you eating right now?"

"Yeff, um--" Isaac chews frantically to swallow his bite of sandwich. "I'm sorry, Vin. Yes, I'm eating."

"Oh, my bad, man! Hey, call me when you're done?"

"We can talk right now, Vin!"

"Nah, nah, go ahead and finish eating -- everything's better on a full stomach, yeah? Just call me back when you're done."

"Oh, okay, Vin."

Vin hangs up without saying goodbye. For his part, Isaac eats at an unhealthy speed, cleans up his mess, and dashes into his room to call Vin.

Vin picks up in the first ring. "Hey, man," he says in a somewhat flat inflection.

"Hi, Vin," Isaac says, grinning into his phone.

"How's it going? How was your day?"

"My day was good, Vin. Um, how was yours?"

There is a pause before Vin says, "It was...it was a'right. What were some good things that happened for you?"

Isaac realizes that this sort of conversation is similar to one that he might have with his mother, but it seems so much more exciting to tell Vin the same sorts of things. "Um...I had breakfast, and then I went to the Living Room -- that's my home room...wait, I think I told you that already -- but, and then David wasn't screaming today--"

"Wait, you mean the kid who, like, screams bloody murder in the mornings down the English hallway?"

"He doesn't scream any words usually, but, um, he didn't scream at all today."

"Man, what's his deal? Why does he always scream?"

"He, um." Isaac hesitates, trying to decide if the story is worth the effort, and whether it would be okay to tell it. I can tell Vin anything, he reasons, so he takes a breath and answers, "David used to scream because he was scared that Ray was going to beat him up. He...Ray beat him up in the other school, and this school is the same, um, it kinda looks the same, and then I think David was scared that Ray was going to beat him up here, too, because it looks the same." He isn't sure why that makes sense to him, but for some reason, the logic checks out in his mind. "And then, but, I...made him, um...I told him that Ray doesn't go here anymore, and now he stopped s-screaming."

"Dang, man," Vin says slowly, "I shoulda known you were the one who solved that problem. You're pretty good at that kinda thing." Isaac blushes wordlessly as Vin asks, "So what else happened? Sorry I interrupted you."

Isaac is surprised that Vin didn't ask more questions about David and such, but he replies, "It's okay, Vin. Um, reading class was boring, gym -- why are you laughing?"

"I dunno, I've just never heard you say that about something," Vin admits. "But what about gym? Anyone giving you problems in there?"

"No, Vin. Nobody is giving me problems. Juan, um, asked about you, and I told him that you were doing better. He...he was worried about you."

"Aww," Vin draws out, "he's such a good guy. You, uh...didn't tell him about what we talked about, right?"

"No, Vin, I didn't tell him about...the suicide attempt." He looks around automatically, even though he is completely certain nobody is around. "But, um, we're going to do a game project tomorrow in gym where we play, um. It's a Spanish game that, that Juan knows, but I don't know the name. But it's for a grade."

"Ah, so like you're presenting, like, a game to the class? Is it like a sport, or...?"

"It's like hide and seek, or maybe like tag, except you, the person who's 'it' can't see. They have a blindfold on. And they have to tag someone else."

"Well, that sounds both dangerous and hilarious."

"Why does it sound dangerous, Vin?"

"I dunno. Blindfolded people with their hands out, trippin' over things or people, jamming their hands into the wall... Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine. Don't listen to me. Juan knows what he's doin', I'm sure."

"Okay, Vin." Isaac checks his conversational performance against what Mr. Coleman and Juan said, and hopes he's doing it right. After an awkward pause, he says, "Um, do you want me to keep going?"

"Yeah! Sorry, I...yeah, keep going."

"Okay, Vin. Um, after gym I talked to Mrs. Davis, and then I went to math class...um, and then I had lunch with Christian." Isaac thinks ahead to what he would say about lunch, and realizes that he needs to confess.

"Isaac?"

"Yes, Vin?"

"Sorry, just checking if you were still there. Thought my phone mighta dropped the call."

"I'm still here, Vin."

"Cool. Good."

"Vin?"

"Yeah?"

"I told Christian that we're going out." There is an agonizingly long pause on the phone, long enough that Isaac starts to panic. and chant, "I'm sorry, Vin, I--I had to! I'm sorry!"

"Isaac, whoa, whoa, calm down. Stop. Okay, first off, this Christian guy is one of your friends, right?"

"Y-yes, Vin."

"Okay. Now why...? I thought we were cool with this. You said you wouldn't tell anyone."

Isaac's eyes quickly mist over as he frantically explains, "I--I had to tell Christian because he--he kept asking me, and, I--I didn't want to lie to him, and then--and then he--I told him a long time ago that--" He starts sniffling in between words, "I told him a--a few weeks ago that--that I liked you as--as more than a f--friend, and then he wanted to--to know if--if I asked you if you w--were gay, and then--"

"Isaac. Isaac, calm down, please, buddy. Isaac." Vin's repeated pleas eventually get through to Isaac before he ends up shutting down completely. "Look, man, I just...is he gonna tell anybody else? Do you know him well enough?"

Isaac sniffles a few more times. "I don't think so, Vin. He talks a lot, but--but...I don't think he really talks t-to anyone else. Except for Mr. Coleman and then David. But David can't talk, so, um, he won't...tell anyone."

Vin sighs. "It's cool, it's cool. Just, y'know, please don't go spreading it around, man."

"I'm sorry, Vin," Isaac says, sniffling harder.

"Look, Isaac, it's okay. It's fine. I still--we’re still cool, a'right? I'm not mad, I'm just...I'm just scared, y'know? This is scary stuff for me."

"I know, Vin."

"Let's--let's just move on. How were the rest of your classes?"

Isaac takes a breath to calm his nerves. "Um...art was okay, history was boring, and science was boring. And then, and then I went to the piano rooms, and then Juan was there, um, and then we talked for a long time. I--I didn't tell him that you were bisexual, though, or that--or that we were going out!"

Isaac hears a faint snort of a laugh on the other side. "Man, I'm tellin' ya, it's fine. Hell, if I tell anyone else, he'll probably be the first to find out. He seems like he'd be pretty cool about it."

"Um, I told him that I was gay."

"Oh! How did he take it?"

"He said he was gay, too--I, uh, I--"

Isaac panics, hangs up the phone, and chucks it at the carpeted floor, positively livid at himself for giving away yet more secrets on accident. His emotions take the fast train to overload, and he loses himself in a shrieking meltdown within the minute.

"Isaac?!" he hears from through the door, between his screams. "I'm coming in!" His mother opens the door and quickly situates herself on the bed to where she can place her hand on his back and help him ride through his meltdown. Isaac's phone plays the first few seconds of the Arabesque on repeat, but Isaac can barely hear it, much less care.

Eileen asks, "Baby, what's wrong?"

After another minute of choked sobs and screeching, Isaac is finally capable of getting out the words, "I'm s--s-stupid!"

She responds by hugging him tightly, continuing to rub his back; he hangs there, helpless against his own self-loathing, as the thoughts continue to batter his mind: I told secrets -- nobody will trust me -- I'm stupid -- they all hate me -- I can't talk --

Eventually, the storm subsides. His mother says, "Isaac, you're not stupid. I'm sure whatever happened was something that could have happened with anyone. Would you mind telling me why you think you're stupid?"

Taking a big shuddering breath, Isaac spits out, "I can't k-keep a secret."

After a pause, Eileen laughs lightly and replies, "That's a hard thing for a lot of people to do. It doesn't make you stupid."

"Yes, it does, Mom. It was stupid. I'm stupid."

"So...you're stupid because you made a mistake and accidentally let a secret slip. Honey, almost every person in the world is stupid, then."

Isaac lets out a frustrated sigh. "You don't understand."

"Look, Isaac, I'm making light of the situation, but I understand how you feel. It's embarrassing and makes you feel horrible when you tell a secret by accident. But we have to move on, right? You're not suddenly the worst person on Earth just because you accidentally said something. Do me a favor, and ask yourself this: did anyone get seriously hurt because of you telling the secret?"

"...No, ma'am."

"Okay. Do you think the person that you accidentally told is going to tell other people?"

"Probably not, Mom."

"Then you did something that was unintentional -- something that happens to literally everybody -- and nothing seriously negative happened. Does the person know that you told someone?"

He sniffles, "Not yet, Mom."

"Then you have the opportunity to make things right by telling the person. And you can make sure to ask anyone else who knows the secret not to talk about it. After that...you just move on. Nobody is going to think you're a horrible person; nobody is going to think you're stupid. If they do, then I know a few good therapists I can recommend to them, because that's not a healthy way to look at things at all." She twists herself around to look at Isaac's face; he notices this by the tilt of her head, but there's no way he would be willing to look into her eyes at the moment. She holds him by the arms and says, "Isaac, the most critical person in the world of you is yourself. But you need to understand that nobody expects you to be perfect."

"I'm not perfect. I'm too weird to be perfect."

"Funny -- that's just what I was going to say is the part of you that is perfect." Isaac just sighs and rolls his eyes. She continues. "One day, you'll stop hating yourself, and you'll see that you have so much more to offer the world than you think. All I can hope is that maybe my words will help you find that day more quickly. And when it happens...I promise not to say 'I told you so.'" She gives his arms a quick squeeze and tousles his hair, raising goosebumps across his skin. "Now I imagine that the secret you told was to Vin, and that Vin has been texting you to see why you aren't responding to him. Why don't you get your phone and practice what I told you earlier?"

"...Mom, how do you know all that?"

"I pay attention, honey." She gets up off the bed and hands Isaac his phone. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm gonna be okay."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in the other room." She heads out and closes his door.

Isaac looks at his phone and sees that he has a voicemail and a few text messages. Instead of checking them, he just calls Vin back.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Vin."

"Oh, hey -- what happened?"

"I..." He sighs. "I got mad."

"...Did I say something wrong?"

"No, Vin. I told a secret on accident."

"Dude, I already told you that it doesn't matter if you told Christian that we're going out. I'm over it -- it's cool."

"No, I told you that..."

"Oh, that Juan is gay?"

"...Yes, Vin. Um, please don't tell anybody." Isaac feels the tense grip of fear and self-loathing grip him by the base of the skull, threatening to squeeze the tears out again, but he squints his eyes and grits his teeth until the urge subsides.

"Oh, you musta hung up before you heard my answer. I promise I won't tell anyone that you said that. It's cool. I mean, if I'm bein' real, I kinda already suspected it, but y'know. Heh."

"How did you suspect that Juan was gay?"

"I dunno. He just has a kinda...way about him. Like, he's not super masculine or anything. Also, like...I know it sounds kinda weird, but you can kinda tell by the way he walks? I dunno, it's like...just a couple of things he does here and there that made me think that maybe he was."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, uh, where were we? You were talkin' about Juan and you hangin' out after school."

Isaac remembers the conversation with a great deal of clarity, so he starts out: "Um, first, he said s-sorry for running away instead of helping during the fight, and then--"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on. If I don't see him first, I need you to tell him that it's not his fault, and he shouldn't feel bad at all. He did what he could, and it's not gonna happen again. Tell him that."

"Yes, sir--Vin. Sorry, Vin." Vin just laughs. Isaac continues, "And then he said that I didn't have to go to the keen, the, uh..."

"The quince?"

"Yes, Vin. The quin...ce. Um, that I didn't have to go to the big party, but I can go to his party after."

"Dude, I can't wait! I'm stoked."

"Stoked?"

"Like, you stoke a flame to get it to burn brighter. 'Stoked' means like super excited."

"Oh. ...And then after that he talked about, um, there was a moment in gym class where he had an erection and I looked at him, and he, um, he said it was because he was looking at my underwear."

Vin busts out laughing. "Man, I've been there before. With me it was usually a girl in class and I'm all daydreamin' and then shoop! Awkward chubby."

Isaac can't help but laugh at how absurd that term sounds. "But that was when he told me that, or I mean, I told him that I was gay, and then he told me...you know. Oh, I forgot one part: I told him that that happened to me when I looked at Mr. Guthrie, and then th-that's when I told him I was gay."

"Guthrie, eh?" Vin says. Then, in a much lower voice, he says, "It's that deep voice of his, huh?"

Isaac thinks about it for a moment. "No, Vin, it's his muscles, I think. And his shirts."

Vin cracks up again. "Is that it? Man, I gotta ask him where he gets his shirts!"

Isaac takes a moment to imagine Vin in a silken red shirt, and it doesn't seem to have the same appeal. He likes Vin better in tee shirts and jerseys. "Or maybe it's the shirt over his muscles. ...I don't know, Vin."

"It's cool, it's cool, I was totally teasing, anyway. So you told him you were gay, and he told you, and then...?"

"And then he asked me if I figured out that I was gay because of you, and then I said yes, and he said, um, he thinks you're hot and then th-that he prefers lighter hair and eyes. Um, next..."

"Okay, two things here: one, you're just gonna gloss over that part like I'm not gonna have something to say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Vin."

"Hah! He thinks I'm hot? Geez, it's getting windy up on this pillar. Anyway, number two: I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to this, but do you seriously remember the entire conversation?"

"I remember most of the conversation, Vin."

"...I swear. So, uh, I'm gonna hafta have dinner soon, so maybe we should just do the Cliff Notes version? The summary, I mean."

"Oh, um, okay, Vin. Um..."

"Like what things sounded important to you? What stuck out as interesting to you?"

"Oh." Isaac scans his memory of the conversation for things that stand out. "Um, Juan asked if he was annoying and I said no...um...I said I staid--I s-stutter too much...Oh, and then Juan said that I should talk more, and then th-that he likes it when I talk. And then we talked about Mr. Guthrie again, and why he's h-hot."

"What did Juan say? Does he like the shirts, too?"

"He didn't say what w-was hot, but he said that Mr. Guthrie would look better with lighter hair like mine."

"...Damn. He was layin' it on thick."

"What, Vin?"

"Dude, Juan was totally hitting on you."

Isaac is already familiar with this term, though he doesn't think he'll ever understand what "hitting on" people has to do with compliments. "...He was?" is all Isaac can think to ask.

"God yes! He likes lighter hair -- like yours? And lighter eyes -- like yours? He likes it when you talk? Damn, son -- Juan has the hots for you!"

Not a lot of that last sentence makes sense to Isaac, but he replies, "You mean he likes me?"

"Pfffff, he more than likes you. How did you not notice?"

"I noticed that he felt like you do when I look at your eyes."

There's a short pause before Vin says, "Oh, oh, gotcha. Heh, you could tell he was attracted to you by his emotions, huh? So did you ever notice that about me?"

"I...I noticed the feeling, but I didn't know what it w-was at first. But then later...later I figured it out from Juan."

"Ah. Awkward. But yeah, you couldn't tell from what he was saying?"

"...No, Vin. I couldn't tell." His cheeks warm at the thought that multiple people find him attractive.

"Eh, don't feel bad -- lotta people can't tell when others are hittin' on 'em. Hell, I'm not great at it. But at least you were really direct about it with me...hard to argue with someone's heart beatin' outta their chest, am I right?" That moment brings itself to Isaac's mind, but he doesn't have nearly the emotional reserves to relive that moment right now, so he pushes it away as Vin continues, "I hope that doesn't make the quince awkward. We, uh, we might have to tell him we're going out. I don't want you to, like, hafta lead him on 'n stuff. I'll think about it before Saturday. But, uh, hey -- thanks for makin' me feel better."

"You're welc--um, you, you didn't feel good?"

"Heh, long story. We can talk more about it later -- actually, how about tomorrow? You free after school?"

"I'm free after school, Vin."

"Wanna hang out? I mean technically I have practice, but I've been at like every one of them since school started; they can miss me for a day. I really wanna see you."

"I really wanna see you too, Vin."

"Heh, I bet you can hear me grinnin' across the phone. Meet at the eagle tomorrow after school? Oh, and call your mom this time."

"I will!" Isaac emphasizes back playfully. "My phone is unlocked now, so I can c-call her."

Vin just laughs. "A'right, bud. I gotta go do dinner, so see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow, Vin."

"Love ya."

I love you too, Vin," he says a bit too quickly.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Vin."

He hangs up the phone and spends the rest of the evening off and on processing the tangle of emotions that the conversation queued up for him.

To be continued...