Merry Cherry Christmas - Keira Andrews Page 0,5
was a homophobe. “Was one of those guys your boyfriend now?”
“Huh?” Max lifted his hips and slid his phone into his pocket. “Why would you say that?”
Jeremy tore his gaze from Max’s crotch. “You called one sweetheart or something.”
“What? We need to revisit the concussion discussion, because—oh! You mean Honey. He’s my roommate—we’ve got a basement apartment in the Annex. His real name’s Cedric, but way back during frosh week, he won a wing-eating contest. Downed fifty wings in a few minutes.”
Jeremy winced. “I feel sick just thinking about that.”
“He felt sick doing it.” Max grinned. “Hurled before he even got his dollar-store trophy. The sauce was honey garlic, and that morphed into the nickname. It’s normal to us, so I forget what it sounds like to other people.”
“Is he a football player too?”
“Yep, he was our quarterback. We’re all pretty tight.”
“And they don’t mind that you’re…” Jeremy’s heart kicked up. It was surreal to talk about it. It was surreal that he was talking to anyone! That this guy was in his room. That this gorgeous guy was like him. Aside from being a billion times more confident and good-looking. He was surely smart too if he was applying to law school. Like everyone else at school, Max seemed to have his shit together.
“That I’m queer? No, man. It’s not an issue. I’m sure there are still some ignorant assholes around, but you usually don’t have to worry about them here on campus or downtown. I’ve never had a problem.” He paused and gave Jeremy a knowing look. “If you’re nervous or curious or anything…”
Now Jeremy’s heart was pounding so hard he could hear it. “I’m not. I mean, I know I’m gay. I’m definitely gay. I’ve known for as long as I can remember. That’s not the hard part.” He forced himself to keep looking at Max. He’d actually said it out loud for the first time in months. The words floated in the air. In the world.
Max nodded. “Cool.”
Jeremy drained the water glass and fidgeted. There—he’d told someone at school. It wasn’t so bad. Even though he might throw up, he’d done it.
“You dating anyone? Having fun?”
He shook his head rapidly and opened his desk drawer to rearrange the paper clips.
“Why not? You’re really cute.”
Jeremy scoffed. “You’re just being nice.” He pushed paper clips around, his ears going hot. He could imagine how stark the freckles across his cheeks looked as he blushed. How ugly.
“So this is the part that’s a struggle?”
“Part of it, I guess.”
“Dude, you’re totally cute. Everyone loves redheads. Did you join the queer club on campus? You’d meet a ton of people. Are you nineteen?” At Jeremy’s nod, he said, “Hit the Church Street bars and hang out in the Village. Or there are plenty other queer spaces in the city. You don’t have to be nervous.”
Barking out a laugh, Jeremy closed the drawer with a thud. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. Being nervous is my usual state of being. I’ve only said it out loud twice now.”
Max’s brows drew together. “Wait, which part?”
“That I’m…you know. Gay.” He needed to get used to it already. He needed to stop cringing when he said it, waiting to be rejected. He needed to get his shit together like everyone else on campus. Everyone else in Toronto, it seemed like. The sidewalks and subways were crammed full of people rushing around, and they all seemed to know exactly where they were going.
Too restless to sit, he went to the window between the beds in the shoebox of a room and pulled back the curtain. “Still snowing.”
“I won’t stay too long, don’t worry.”
“No, I don’t mean that you should go!” Now he was being rude when Max had gone out of his way to help. When he’d been a hero. “Really.” Jeremy paced over to the desk to grab his beer before sitting on the side of his bed again, facing Max.
“Cool.” Max sipped his beer. “So you’re not out to many people yet?”
“Just my parents. I’m not allowed to tell my little brother yet, or anyone one else in the family. I think they’re hoping it’s a phase. Or they’re just completely ashamed of me. Or both.”
“Shit. That’s brutal. I’m sorry.”
Jeremy shrugged it off. “Anyway.” The last thing he wanted to do was burst into tears. “My roommate Doug knows. Although I never told him myself—we had to fill out these info forms with allergies and likes and dislikes. I wrote it on there.”