them out early and using proven methods to teach. “Which is why I got into the academy so young.”
“Thought Suzuki was only for piano and violin. At least you’re a virtuoso at something unusual. Well, outside of Spain.”
I poke at my salad. As it happens, pub salads are as appetizing as they sound, in that they’re not. But the menu listed the calories next to each item, so I forced myself to order one of the low-cal options. This option is apparently also low-taste, so I take a sip of my water instead and let my stomach grumble.
I can’t even remember making the decision to diet, or to try to lose weight, but it feels like this insecurity has had a hold on me for so long. And maybe this is something I can control. Something I can fix. Sure, Pierce hasn’t called me out for my weight or put pressure on me to eat healthier, but he must think it. It’s in the subtext of every meal we share and every pointed comment he makes about his own diet.
“Yeah, but that bit me in the ass,” Sang explains. “I’m a glorified intern for the academy and busk on the tube for a few quid, since there aren’t enough classical guitar gigs out there.” He shakes his head. “That’s enough complaining for one day. So what kind of gigs are you looking for?”
I laugh. “The type that pay money, preferably.”
“Cheers to that,” Shane says between bites of his burger.
“Shane, I kind of know your story, but Marty, I’ve got to ask … why here?”
I sigh, not sure how to condense so many emotions, so many hopes and dreams, into a short answer. “I wanted to get away from Kentucky. America, really.”
“Marty’s on the run,” Shane says, laughing.
“Nothing so dramatic. I realized one day how much that town held me back. Or I felt like I needed to hold myself back. My best friends are great, but I was always in their shadow. I was in everyone’s shadow.”
“That’s a lot to run from. And you’re not in the shadow here?”
I shrug. “Maybe. It doesn’t feel like it. I’m making my own decisions, making friends—the people here are great. And I love being in a more, um, queer-friendly environment.”
We all clink our glasses, actually cheers-ing at that.
“I feel the same way,” Sang says.
I take a bite of tomato, and feel remorse take over my body. I hadn’t planned to eat dinner. It wasn’t in my plan, and if I want to lose weight to prepare for my next shirts-off experience with Pierce, I have to keep it up.
“So what brought you here?” Shane asks.
“Well, I’m from Calgary.” He turns to me specifically. “Canada, that is.”
I roll my eyes. “I know where Calgary is.”
“Well, you might be the first American ever to know that.” He smiles.
“I … google things, a lot. I like maps.” My face burns with embarrassment. “Let’s not get into it.”
He throws his hands up, dropping a chip on the table from a foot in the air. My embarrassment fades as we all start to laugh. His smile cuts into me, and I chalk it up to good friendship. I never made friends this easily in high school, but here I am: Pierce, Sophie, Dani, now Sang.
There’s a part of me that knows Sang is hella cute. I’m not blind to that fact. It’s like our cheeks are attached—he can’t smile without my face mimicking it. He’s bursting with energy, and everything about his hair and personality is so effortless. But I may have a hormone issue happening, and I will not be the guy who falls in love with every boy he meets.
“You’re funny,” Shane says. It’s almost a whisper. He bites his lip and stares into his glass of water.
It’s a good thing I’m focusing on one boy at a time too. Because otherwise, I might have some competition. I kick Shane under the table, and watch his cheeks redden.
“Anyway, my parents found this school,” Sang explains. “It seemed like a fun experience. Came here and loved it so much I couldn’t go back.” He looks down now. “And I’ll stay here if I can find a job to prolong my visa.”
“Is that hard to do?”
“I’ve tried to get jobs. But not all of them count toward extending visas here, like that Jersey Boys stint was just to cover a maternity leave. I need a full-time, long-term opportunity to come up, fast.”