X

Marrying Alys was the best thing I’d ever done. These last few months I’d spent with her were some of the happiest I’d ever had, and I couldn’t think of a better way to end my life than as her beloved husband.

Before leaving on the Canadian tour, I’d met with my lawyers and drawn up a will. I was leaving everything to Alys. All my money, my shares in NOLA’s Junk, every piece of crap I owned. It was all hers, so no matter what she wanted to do with her life, she could afford it.

But there was just one thing I needed to move on. A specific memory that was my most cherished.

In a rush, I was immersed in the one moment that had made me who I was.

The ground is still warm from the hot summer day. The grass was cut the day before, the blades a little sharp where they poke into the skin of my neck and arms. But the air smells so sweet and clean, even though it’s humid as fuck.

The Deverauxes’ backyard is one of my favorite places to be. When we were kids, Phil and I would run around, playing all sorts of games, roughhousing, and swimming in the kidney-bean pool.

Now, we’re older. He just turned thirteen last month. Lanky, he looks like a marionette with feet that are too big for his body. He’s become clumsy and uncoordinated, despite all the dance lessons his father insisted he take. He really hates those.

But he loves the music, and that’s probably what keeps him going. Always the music.

Turning my head, I look at his profile. He still has his striking features. Broad forehead, his longish hair flopping over his brow, straight eyebrows over deep-set dark eyes, high cheekbones, straight nose with a slender bridge. His mouth is full-lipped, wide, and pretty as any girl’s.

I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Recently, it’s something I’ve been wondering a lot.

My best friend knows all of my secrets, all of my weaknesses.

Except one.

I’m in love with him. I don’t know when it happened or how. I like girls well enough…but I like boys just as much.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

My heart thunders in my chest. I feel the pounding of blood through the veins and major arteries in my neck and wrists.

I’m fuckin’ crazy! I can’t tell him!

“What is it?” Phil asks, turning his face to mine.

An odd shiver shimmies its way down my spine.

If I can’t trust Phil with this, there is no way I’ll be able to trust anyone.

“I need to tell you somethin’, but I’m scared.”

Why am I doing this?

“Why are you scared?”

“Because…I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, X.”

Just say it!

“I think I like guys. Like…like them. I like girls, too, but…I like guys in the same way.”

Phil’s shoulders shift against the ground in a shrug. “My uncle Robert is gay. It doesn’t bother us. He brings his boyfriend with him when he visits.”

“I’m not gay. At least, I don’t think so. I like both dudes and chicks.”

“I think that’s called bisexual.”

I whack his chest with the back of my hand. “I know that, asshole.”

“Well,” he says, rubbing the spot where I hit him, “I don’t hate you because of it. Why did you think I would?”

“I thought that maybe you’d think I was weird or somethin’.”

“X, I’ve always known you were weird. This doesn’t change anything.”

“What if I told you that I thought I was in love with you?” I’m lying on the ground, but I still feel faint. White spots dance before my vision, and a dull ringing fills my ears.

Phil turns his face back up to the night sky. He’s been quiet for a long time. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life as I am right now.

“I love you, X,” he says softly, his voice cracking with adolescence. “But…not like that.”

“I know. I just needed to tell you.”

Then, Phil reaches over…and takes my hand in his, threading our fingers together, like a boyfriend would. I’m so stunned; I can’t find any words to convey the emotions flooding me.

This one moment, this simple touch, will forever be ingrained in me. While it might not be the love I want, Phil gives me all the love he’s able to, and it’s enough. It will always be enough. Because I can’t imagine my life without him in it.

“I’m glad you told me. But…” he says.

“But?”

“What if you end up hating me because I can’t return your feelings? You’re my best friend. I don’t want to hurt you. If I get a girlfriend—”

“I will always be your best friend,” I tell him. “I never expected you to feel the way I do. I know you only like girls. I just wanted you to know.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’m cool with that.”

And he holds it for a long time.

Thank you, I told whoever was listening.

I’d relived my greatest moment last, and I now had the courage to face anything. Phil had been my strength for as long as I’d known him. The love I had for him would always sustain me—in whatever form I was, whatever spiritual existence I had.

Opening my arms, I tilted back my head and took my last breath.

No regrets.

The world careened, tilting helter-skelter, and then…nothing.