Schooling the Jock (Nerds Vs Jocks #1) - - Eli Easton Page 0,54

farm. Maybe because I now knew Jesse was gay. Hell, we’d made out. Only for a few minutes, but still, those minutes had shifted everything.

Jesse came out of the bathroom. He looked agitated and began to pace. “Look. I guess I should, um, explain. About me.”

I tossed down my phone. “You don’t owe me—or anyone—an explanation.” But I scooted back on the bed and sat cross-legged facing him. Yeah, I was not that magnanimous. I wanted to know. I assumed my most receptive expression. “Although…if you want to talk, I’m all ears.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on his bed opposite me, bare feet on the floor, elbows on his knees. He was wearing a white-and-red Madison T-shirt with a cartoon badger on the front. And he looked so damn handsome.

I waited. When he looked up, his eyes were full of misery, and suddenly I knew this wasn’t going to be a light conversation. He really needed someone. And I wanted to be that someone, but I had the feeling he was afraid to open up.

I hastened to reassure him. “Hey. I know we aren’t exactly besties, and I probably come off as a smart-ass most of the time. But I like to think we know each other a little bit after Iowa. And I want you to know that, whatever you say to me, I’ll take it to the grave. I swear.” I made a cross on my chest. Which was probably not appropriate when you’re past fifth grade, but I didn’t know how else to prove it.

Jesse looked down at his hands and rubbed them together. “You won’t understand.”

Moi?

“I’d like to try. I believe people do what they need to do. You know? And no one should judge them for that. Especially not around sexuality. And, again, I know you said, ‘shut up, Dobbs,’ but I realize I pushed you. At the library. And that wasn’t fair.”

He sniffed once and nodded as if making up his mind. He sat up straight, his hands clenched the bedspread on either side of his legs.

“As you already figured out, I’m gay,” he said firmly. “Not bi. Or, at least, not much. I’ve dated girls, but it wasn’t great.”

“Okay.” I nodded encouragingly. “It’s all good. I mean, obviously, I’m gay. I’m out. But I totally respect that not everyone is in the same place I am.”

Jesse pressed his lips tight and looked at the floor. “You’ve met my family.” He shook his head and sighed.

“They…seem really nice? Have you tried talking to them about it?”

His headshake became harder and more aggressive. “No. My mom and dad have enough to handle with the twins. They don’t need yet another kid being screwed up.”

That pissed me off. “Being gay is not being screwed up,” I said angrily.

“I know that.” Jesse looked up at me beseechingly. “And you know that. But from their point of view, it is. You don’t know how bad they felt about my brothers when they were diagnosed. How much they questioned why, was it something in their genes, something my mom had done wrong in pregnancy, or what. They had so much guilt, you know? I mean, they didn’t talk to me, but kids hear stuff. And I don’t want to be another reason they have to ask themselves, what did we do wrong?” He sighed. It sounded like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“Okay. Well. They might think that at first,” I admitted slowly. “But with a little education, they’d see that it’s just the way some of us are born, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

It had taken my parents a little time. Not that they didn’t accept me immediately, they had, but I could tell they still wondered why I had to be that way. Until they met more gay kids and their parents and realized that I had, as the divine Gaga says, been born this way.

“Look, I know I’ll have to tell them someday,” Jesse said. “But it’ll be easier when the boys are older. Besides, I can only afford Madison because of the football scholarship. Sure, Madison had that star gay wrestler, and there’s a football player who’s bi, but you should hear the way some of the players talk about him behind his back. I just can’t risk it. I’ve only got a year and a half of school left to go. And my BSN is everything.”

I made myself swallow the argument I wanted to raise. It