But Oliver just turned around. “Give me a few minutes. Gotta find my keys.” He patted his pockets, like they were hiding somewhere in his jeans.
“Sure!” I said, then went to fire up my car, my jaw tight with embarrassment.
This was all my parents’ fault.
“So,” I said once Oliver was settled in the front seat of my car, “what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “What do you do here?”
“Not a lot,” I admitted. “The movies, coffee, ice cream. Just hang out at the Spectrum, usually.” I paused for a few seconds before adding, “It’s a new shopping center. Well, not new new, but it went up right after . . .”
Right after you were kidnapped.
I needed a subject change, fast. “What did you do in New York?”
“Oh, you know, movies, coffee, ice cream,” he said, then looked over and smiled. That motion made something in my heart seize up for a few seconds. “No, seriously, whatever you want to do,” he said, not realizing what he had done. “It’s cool. I have one question, though.”
“Yeah?” I asked as I backed down the driveway. I could see my parents peeking through the blinds and I ignored them.
He glanced down at the floor. “Why the hell is there so much sand in your minivan?”
I glanced over at Oliver, then back at the blinds, which had quickly snapped back into place. “You really want to know what I do around here?” I asked him. “Because if you do, you cannot tell my parents. They’ll murder me.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Literally?”
“Metaphorically,” I amended. “Which would probably be worse.”
“Deal,” he agreed.
“Cool,” I said. “Do you have swim trunks?”
Oliver hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes?”
“Go get them and then we’ll find Drew.”
Drew lived five minutes away and when we pulled into his massive driveway, he was standing in the garage, surrounded by boxes and a broom. “I’m helping my dad,” he said before I could even ask. “We’re”—he made finger quotes around the word—“bonding. Oh, hey, Oliver. Hey.”
Oliver startled a little but just nodded at Drew. “Hey, man.”
“Drew,” he introduced himself. “I’m Drew.”
“Oh, right,” Oliver said. “Right. Sorry.”
Drew gave me a look that clearly begged to know more, but I ignored him. “Can we borrow your board and wet suit?” I asked him. “I’m going to teach Oliver how to surf.”
“You’re what?” Oliver and Drew both said.
I grinned at them. “You asked me what we did around here,” I said to Oliver. “This is what I do. Just don’t tell my parents, remember?”
“Because they’ll metaphorically kill you,” Oliver repeated dutifully. “Got it.”
“They will,” Drew agreed. “Or send her to Bible camp.”
“My parents don’t even go to church!” I said.
“Bible camp is the last refuge of every desperate parent, regardless of religious affiliation,” Drew said, his eyes cutting over to Oliver as he realized what he said. Luckily, Oliver just seemed amused. “C’mon, dude, let’s get you suited up.”
We left a few minutes later, Drew’s old wet suit and board shoved next to mine in the back of the minivan. “So when did you learn to surf?” Oliver asked as we waited at a light, the ocean shimmering down the hill below us.
“A few years ago,” I admitted. “Drew’s older brother, Kane, taught me when I was fourteen. It was the summer before he went to college and he had already taught Drew and it was just . . .” I searched for a word that didn’t exist. “It just felt like I discovered something that made me feel different than I had felt before. It made me different. I didn’t think I’d like it at first, but I loved it. I still love it.” I adjusted my sunglasses as the sun came pouring in through the windshield, the afternoon bright and warm. “Drew goes out a lot with me, but Caro doesn’t like it too much. She hates the seaweed.”
Look at me, conversing with Oliver! I thought to myself. And no one’s been traumatized yet!
“Got it.” Oliver had his elbow resting against the open window, the air blowing his hair back and forth across his forehead. “So how long has Drew been gay?”
I bristled immediately, my voice sharp. “Um, since he was conceived?”
“No, I meant—sorry, that’s not what I meant at all. I meant, when did he come out? Or—has he yet?”
Stand down, tiger. I told myself. Just some innocent questions.
“He came out to his parents last year,” I said, my spine relaxing. “But we’ve known for, like, ever. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but I think Drew’s parents were a little surprised. They were cool with it but . . .”
“But not really?” Oliver offered.
“They say they love him all the time,” I told him, remembering how Drew’s voice had shaken when he told Caro and me about that. “But I think they have to learn to love a different version of him than the one they were expecting. Which is silly, because Drew is just Drew. He’s not different, you know? It’s just the way they’re looking at him that’s changed.”
Oliver nodded, his lips pursed as he thought about that. “Sometimes love isn’t something you say, it’s something you do,” he finally said. “Or, I don’t know, at least that’s what it seems like.”