Brad didn’t know if Hank had a sixth sense for when Brad was feeling like shit, or if it was just pure coincidence, but he was woken up from his pity sleep on the couch by Hank banging on the front door.

“Don’t you have work?” Brad asked, letting him in.

“Not until later, it’s only noon—did you just wake up?” Hank surveyed the junk food on the coffee table in front of the couch with a distinct air of judgment.

“Don’t. Even,” Brad warned him, going to clean up the mess.

Hank picked up the blanket that was bunched at the foot of the couch. “Did you sleep on the couch last night?”

“I fell asleep watching movies. It just kind of happened.”

He’d only been planning to give himself a bit of a treat night, eating some junk food he’d grabbed from the grocery store—not his usual one, in case he ran into Preston—and then watch a movie or two before going to bed.

But he’d ended up torturing himself with every movie he picked out. He couldn’t stop thinking about Preston, and wondering what kinds of movies Preston would like to watch.

When Brad had first met him, Preston had seemed like the kind of guy who would watch Fast and Furious or other action films where the plot didn’t matter or was nonexistent. But now that he knew him better, Brad wondered if Preston would like feel-good movies, family movies, those classics like Stand by Me and The Sandlot.

It hadn’t really helped him with getting over Preston.

“Uh-huh.” Hank frowned at him. “You falling asleep on the couch eating junk food and watching movies wouldn’t have anything to do with why Preston is apparently over at Joe’s talking to Luke?”

“Luke let him into the bar?”

“They don’t open until the afternoon, so yeah.” Hank walked around the couch, folding the blanket up and setting it aside. “Did he do something inappropriate?”

“What?” Brad stared at him for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, did he cross a line,” Hank said patiently. “We talked to him about that at poker night. He was telling us about the progress he was making.

“He’s really doing a lot better, actually. He’s actually relaxed for once. But it was pretty clear that he had a crush on you.”

“It was?” Great, now Brad felt even worse.

“Yeah.” Hank started picking up the junk-food wrappers. Feeling like a slob, Brad helped. “He had this big goofy smile on his face that I’ve never seen before. And his eyes just lit up. It was pretty cute, actually.”

“Huh.” Brad could kick himself.

Not that he’d thought Preston only wanted to sleep with him. Preston had said some variation of “date” several times.

But it was different to hear someone else, an outsider, telling him that Preston had a crush on him. It made it more real, somehow. Like it didn’t just exist in their tiny bubble, but was something that could be seen by the rest of the world as well.

“Yeah,” Hank said, fetching the trash can. “So we warned him that you’re kind of his teaching assistant, and that you could get in trouble if people thought you were showing favoritism and all that.

“He said he wouldn’t do anything to put you in jeopardy, and we believed him, but you know Preston. He’s not always the best at controlling his impulses, whatever his intentions might be.

“And we know that they’re good intentions. He’s not malicious or anything. But with Preston all upset, and now you’re … y’know … I figured…”

Hank trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging.

Brad sighed, finishing putting everything in the trash. “Preston didn’t cross any lines that I didn’t want him to cross. I practically dared him to cross them.”

“Ah, crap.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Brad told Hank the full story.

Hank stared at him. “You—what? You did—with Preston?”

“Yup.”

“And then … wow.”

“Yeah.”

Hank rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m just … huh.”

“I’m starting to wonder if Preston was right,” Brad said, flopping onto the couch. “I wonder if I’m always going to be miserable like this. If I have to spend the rest of my life friendless, and second-guessing everything I say and do, and looking over my shoulder … if I’m really a coward and a hypocrite, the way he said.”

Hank sat down next to him. “I think that there’s two sides to every story,” he said quietly. “And I think that your intentions are noble. You want to have a good relationship with your mom and make sure that her last few years with you are happy. That she’s not left alone.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“But,” Hank said, undeterred by Brad’s sarcasm, “I do think Preston has a point. I know that anger versus avoiding confrontation are two different symptoms. But they’re from the same disease, so to speak: not confronting your fears and issues.

“You always told me that talking about why you’re so angry is what makes anger management classes so powerful. Anyone can learn how to count to ten and take deep breaths and all that. But in class, you have accountability, and you have a schedule to make sure you do the exercises—and you also have a chance to really discuss, with people who understand and have the same experiences, the reasons behind why you act the way that you do.

“And you always told me that what you’ve found is that most of the time, the anger is a way to control an uncontrollable feeling or environment. It’s a way to get back power. And that feeling of a lack of power and control stems from fear.

“It’s scary, to confront the things that you’re afraid of. But it has to be done. That’s what you demand of your students, and that’s why you’re so successful. But Preston’s right—you have to do it, too.”

“You think I should have said yes?” Brad asked. “Agreed to date him once we were finished with the course, and come out to my mom?”

“I think dating him alone would’ve been pretty effective; she would’ve heard about it from someone and brought it up with you.”

“So you do think I should have said yes.”

“Not necessarily. But you could’ve acknowledged that he was right.” Hank sighed. “I know how hard it is to stand up to your family, Brad. I really do.”

Hank’s family had objected to him going to culinary school and pursuing a career that took him away from the rest of the family, and then living away from the family trailer park, which was tradition. There’d been a lot of arguments claiming that Hank thought he was too good for his family, and that he was being a snob.

It had taken meeting Eric, and getting the development company that had been hounding the park for years off his family’s back, that had made Hank’s family finally start to come around.

“I let them crap on me and my dream for years,” Hank said. “And I would snap at them, and they’d snap at me, and I’d refuse to go to family dinners and things like that. But I never really sat down with them and explained how I was feeling, and challenged them on their views of me. I didn’t want to really deal with it, so I just let it fester.

“And it was hard. Going to my grandfather and standing up to him was really hard. So I get where you’re coming from, I really do; and nobody can force you to do something if you’re not ready. But you should at least have acknowledged that he was right about how your behavior could be seen as hypocritical.”

“You’re bending over backwards to tell me that I screwed up majorly without actually telling me straight up that I screwed up majorly,” Brad said dryly. “I appreciate the effort.”

“Aw, thanks, the sarcasm’s really warming my heart right now,” Hank replied, his voice just as dry. “I’m trying to say that I know where you’re coming from. I’m also saying that you need to acknowledge when the other guy has a point.”

“What should I do?” Brad asked. He felt empty, like someone had even scraped the sides of his stomach for good measure. “I’m asking you, honestly. What do you think I should do?”

Hank rubbed his eyes. “I think that you should tell your mother. I’ve always felt that. I look at you, and I want you to be happy.

“I don’t know, I can’t guarantee, that telling her is going to bring you happiness, or that it won’t ruin your relationship with her. Nobody can guarantee that, because nobody can see the future.

“But I do know that you aren’t happy now, and you have to do something to change that. And that’s the one thing that’s holding you back. So, yes, I would come out to her. I think it’s time.”

Brad nodded. Hank put his hand on Brad’s knee, squeezing fondly. “You’re a good guy, Brad. Honestly. You’re my best friend.”

“I’d say you’re my best friend, but you’re also my only friend, so that feels a little redundant.”

Hank chuckled. “I just want to see you happy, okay? And deep down, that’s what Preston wants too, I guarantee it. It hurts to see the person you love in pain, especially when you know, or think you know, that they have it in their power to change that. So just think about it, okay?

“I’m not saying you have to march over there right now and put on a rainbow cape or something. But it’s something to think about. Alright?”

“Alright.” Brad sighed. “I should apologize to Preston, too.”

“Probably. At least it sounds to me like you didn’t say a whole lot you can’t take back, which is good. You should’ve heard some of my fights with Eric when we first met.”

“You told me them all, in detail, after storming home complaining about the smarmy hot development guy.”

“Yeah, well, it was all true.” Hank squeezed his knee again and then stood up. “Take your time. Apologize to Preston. And if you want someone to come with you when you talk to your mom—if you decide to talk to her—then you just let me know, okay? I’d be happy to go with you, be your support.”

Brad gave Hank a tired smile. He wished he could muster the energy to be more enthusiastic in response to how kind and generous Hank was being, but he just felt way too exhausted—even after sleeping in way later than usual. “You’d be my best friend even if I had other friends. For the record.”

“I’m flattered.” Hank turned to go. “And you’ll keep me informed, right? Whatever you decide?”

“I will,” Brad promised.

“Good.” Hank gave the place a final once-over, like he was checking to make sure there weren’t candy bar wrappers hidden under the armchair, or something else he’d missed. Then he paused, as if something had just occurred to him.

“Brad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you … I mean, do you want to date Preston? Coming out and all that aside, do you want to date him?” Hank looked a little nervous.

“Because, I mean, I know he’s rough around the edges. But he’s a good guy. And he’s been really getting a lot more self-aware and thoughtful since you started working with him.

“Not that you have to be with him if you don’t want to. I was just wondering. And if—if you don’t want to be with him just because he’s, well, he’s Preston—”

“You want to know if my being in the closet to my mother was just an excuse for not wanting to date him at all,” Brad said, cutting Hank off.

Hank nodded, looking guilty. “I wouldn’t—I don’t think you’d lie like that. But I just wanted to check.”

“I do want to be with him,” Brad told him. He couldn’t exactly blame Hank for thinking he might lie, not when he’d already proven himself to be the kind of person who ran away from his problems rather than faced them.

“I want to date him. He’s … I mean, it could be that, you know, because of our talks, I feel like we’re closer than we actually are. But I don’t think it’s that. If it was, I think I would’ve fallen for another student before now, and I haven’t. And I was attracted to him before he was in my class, at the grocery store.”

“So, if you were out, you’d date him just as soon as the anger management class he was in ended.”

“Yes. I’d like to wait until then. I don’t want him to have to drive out into the city when he’s doing so well here. And he trusts me; he likes talking to me about this. It’ll take him a while to come to trust whoever else he started going to, and I wouldn’t want him to feel set back, or for it to take him longer to get the certificate and have Luke let him back into the bar.”

Hank was giving him a small, amused smile.

“What?” Brad asked flatly.

“Nothing.” Hank’s smile grew a little. “It’s just nice. To see that you like someone.”

“A fat lot of good that does me.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hank replied. “But it’s nice, that’s all. To see you liking someone. To see that someone likes you back.”

“Preston doesn’t like me back. Not anymore.”

“You and I both know that if it were that easy to stop having feelings for someone, then all those romantic films wouldn’t have a plot. Romeo and Juliet would still be alive.”

“That doesn’t mean that he’ll want to actually have anything to do with me anymore. He seemed pretty disgusted with me by the time we were finished.”

“I think disgusted is a strong word.”

“Well, it’s the right word.”

Hank sighed. “Alright. I just—I think it’s good that you found someone, and I think it’s all going to work out.

“I thought that it wouldn’t work out with me and Eric. We all thought that Davis was never going to calm down enough to find somebody. And yet, here we are. It’s all worked out for us, and we’re happy.

“I wouldn’t give up on yourself just yet, or on Preston. But mostly on yourself. You deserve to find someone who makes you smile, and someone that makes you blush.

“You deserve to be happy. However this works out, you deserve that. And I don’t want you to forget it. Okay?”

Brad nodded. Hank smiled at him, gave a salute, and backed out the door, closing it behind him.

Brad threw his arm over his eyes, feeling very dramatic and pathetic.

He understood, theoretically, that he deserved happiness. He did. But knowing that and actually feeling it, in a practical sense, were two different things.

Could he tell the truth to his mother? Should he? Was Preston right? Was Hank right?

He still wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.