Don't Let Me Go. J.H. Trumble

(Go home, people! Honestly, my mind was firmly in the gutter.), I blew out the candles, I opened a few presents, and then I willed them to leave. I tried to at least look like I was listening to the conversation, but Adam’s eyes kept flicking to mine from across the table, making me squirm. I nudged Juliet under the table. She pretended not to notice, so I nudged her again, harder. A grinned played at her lips.

      Finally, just when I was about ready to scream my wish—GO HOME!—Juliet stood up and announced it was time to leave.

      Adam was on his feet so quickly his chair teetered, threatened to fall over behind him, then settled down with a thunk. “What’s your hurry?” he said sarcastically.

      Juliet just winked. We said our good-byes at the door, then fell all over each other trying to get the table cleared. He buried his nose in my neck while balancing the leftover cake in one hand and plates in the other. “Tell her,” he whispered and then stuck his tongue in my ear, which sent a shiver up my spine so severe that I almost dropped the soda cans I was cradling in my arms.

      Grandma took the cake from Adam in the kitchen. He grabbed one last pinch and popped it into his mouth. “Yum,” he said, flicking his eyebrows and charming the pants off my grandmother all over again.

      She grinned and hugged him to her one-handed.

      “Mom.” I cleared my throat. She was filling the sink with soapy water and glanced back at me over her shoulder. “I need to get Adam home.”

      “Okay,” she said, turning off the water. She dried her hands on a towel.

      “Um, I’m going to crash at his house, tonight.”

      That stopped her. Crash hardly described what we’d be doing at his house. But I already knew she’d let me go. She had to have known it was coming, and there were some battles she knew she couldn’t win.

      Upstairs I threw a few things in my backpack while Adam lounged on my bed. “I miss this room,” he said, looking around and sighing.

      Not half as much as I missed him in this room, I thought. I dropped my backpack and crawled onto the bed, over him, and settled on his lap. “When do I get my birthday present?”

      He cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “Are you referring to the tattoo I promised you, or the one where you get me naked?”

      “The second one.”

      He threw his head back and groaned. Then I kissed him and he kissed me, and soon it became pretty clear that somebody was going to have to show a little restraint or we were going to break house rules again. And it wasn’t going to be me.

      “Come on, tiger,” Adam said finally, sliding out from under me. He slung my backpack over his shoulder. “We have an appointment at the tattoo parlor and Mommy Dearest still has to fuss over your birthday.” He grinned and adjusted himself again.

      I groaned. Couldn’t I just be alone with him? Jeez.

      At the door, Mom embraced Adam, and he kissed her cheek. She pulled away and held his face between her hands and then launched into a whole list of banal mommy questions—Are you eating enough? Sleeping well? Not working too hard? Seeing some sights? Finally, she released him and swatted me on the butt with a “Go. You boys have fun.” Then she reddened when she realized what she’d just said. After all, it wasn’t like it was the first time.

      Chapter 12

      Last November 20

      The first time

      It was Juliet who came up with the coming-out plan. First stop, the counselor’s office, the day before Thanksgiving break, a move designed to give us both support and time before the big reveal the last week of school before Christmas break. It went ... well. Ms. Raney was surprised, shocked even, titillated maybe, amused, who knows, but she hid it well. She’d offered both her support and her advice: Tell your parents. Hmph. Not likely.

      The halls were empty when we left Ms. Raney’s office. We took our time walking back to our respective classes.

      “Why don’t you come crash at my house tonight?” Adam said.

      I stopped and looked at him. “Are you crazy? I can’t spend the night at your house.”

      “Why not? We’re two guys.” He laughed another of those mischievous laughs. “That’s the beauty of dating someone from your own gender ... until you come out, you can share a room and nobody thinks a thing about it.”

      For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to dismiss the idea as mental, but the seed had been planted and my overstimulated imagination had been growing it until the idea had fingered its way into every nook and cranny of my thought processes.

      I felt completely transparent as I pulled up a chair at the bar for dinner. Grandma handed me a plate as Mom poured tea and caught up on the day’s news on the TV situated in a corner of the bar. “Okay if I stay over at Adam’s tonight?”

      I probably should have left it at that, but panic and guilt made me want to justify the question. “We’ve got a government project due before Christmas. A couple of the guys and I thought we’d get a head start. I’ll be home in time to help with pies and stuff tomorrow afternoon.”

      I sounded like a moron. A guilty moron. I expected suspicion at the very least, but Mom didn’t even look away from CNN.

      “Okay,” she said. “Be sure and take your toothbrush.”

      “Um, sure,” I said.

      “When are you going to bring that nice boy back over for a visit?” Grandma asked. “He’s a great dancer.” She did a little Fred Astaire move in the kitchen.

      I kept my head down. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

      I tried to look unhurried as I cleared my dishes and headed upstairs to throw a few things in a bag, sure that at any moment I’d do something that would give me away, but it was ridiculously easy. I scrubbed in the shower, brushed my teeth twice, flossed, and ran some product through my hair, then thought twice and washed it out again. Any more primping would have been too obvious. I crammed a few things in my backpack and hurried to the stairs. I was halfway down when I remembered my government book. I’d planned to carry it under my arm for visual cover. I wanted to take the stairs three at a time and then jump the last half, but I forced myself to a less-eager pace.

      “I’m going, Mom,” I called out.

      She stuck her head around the corner, a dishtowel in her hand. “Have fun. Be back by four o’clock, okay?”

      “Okay.”

      I’d never given my mom any reason to distrust me. I was working on a whopper right now.

      My partner-in-crime met me at the door.

      “Oh, hey, you brought your government book.” He rolled his eyes and laughed.

      “Yeah, well ...”

      “Hi, Nate!” Adam’s mom called through the house from the back porch.

      “Come on,” Adam said and led me through the family room. His mom and stepdad were stretched out on lounge chairs next to the pool, cocktails in their hands. They looked relaxed and content.

      I wondered for a moment what it would be like to sit out here with Adam, like a real couple, tiki lamps flickering around the edges of the patio, tiny lights twinkling among the tree branches.

      “How are you?” Mrs. Jensen asked. “It’s nice to see you again.”

      I stuffed my hands in my pockets and shuffled my feet. “I’m great, thanks,” I said.

      “Nate’s going to crash here tonight,” Adam said. “That okay?” I couldn’t believe he hadn’t even asked them yet. I felt like