He Says He's Just A Friend

Chapter 6 - Jump Then Fall

- Emmett -

When Clay started asking all those questions about my sexuality, I wondered if this was his way of saying it without saying it. It could be hard knowing who to trust in such a provincial town. Simply saying the words out loud was terrifying sometimes. Even to someone who would undoubtedly offer support.

I tried to pry subtly. But subtlety wasn't one of my strengths, so Clay missed the point altogether. Although it was cute to see him getting so flustered.

Back at my house, Clay stopped me before I got out of the car with a hand on my arm. "Wait."

Hope blossomed in my chest. Was this the moment I'd hoped for when I agreed to this outing. "Yeah?"

Then it came crashing down. Clay pointed at my head. "My hat."

"Oh." I took it off and handed it back. I pushed the door open and stepped out. "Well, bye."

After I closed the door, the window rolled down with a low mechanical whir. Clay leaned across the passenger seat, the hat back in its rightful home. It looked so much better on him. "I had a great time, Emmett."

"Me, too."

"We should do that again." It sounded more like a question. As if he weren't sure that we should.

"Go-karts and Mexican?"

Clay laughed and threw up his hand. "Or mini golf and pizza—which is neither cold, nor stolen from twelve-year-olds. Maybe a hike and a hoagie."

"Sounds fun."

"I'll call you."

I nodded. "Do that."

Clay gave a half-wave as the window slid up.

I stood on the curb and waved as Clay drove away. I waited until the little white Honda turned the corner before I crossed the street to Carrie's house.

Her Miata was in the driveway, so I didn't bother knocking. "Honey, I'm home!" I called out.

"Hi, Em," Carrie's mom called out from somewhere deep in the house. "Carrie's out back, by the pool."

"Thanks, Mom."

Obviously, she wasn't really my mom, but she may as well have been. The Herreras had lived across the street from us since before I could remember. Carrie and her mother were a constant fixture in my life. Carrie and I had been inseparable since our first play date. Over the years, we'd bonded over being the only children of single, career-driven mothers. The proximity helped too. Our mothers were also extremely close. I used to wish they were lesbians—or at least bi—so they could get married and we could be a family, then Carrie and I could live in the same house and actually be related.

"Anytime, mijo," Dr. Herrera said.

Carrie was in the pool, laid out on an inflatable pink lounger, letting her hand drift through the water as she floated aimlessly. Her bronze skin glistening from sunscreen. She didn't look like she'd even touched the water. Her hair and bikini were both bone dry.

"You're looking lovely today, Care."

Carrie pushed her sunglasses off her eyes and lifted her head to look at me. "And you're being unusually nice today, Emmie."

I took a seat at the edge of the pool and rolled up my pant legs. I removed my shoes and socks to dip my feet into the water. It was bracing at first, icy cold. Being so hot out, the chill was nice. I had a love/hate relationship with summertime. I longed for it during school, but I detested the sweltering heat and humidity. And sweating, most of all. Although the hot guys that jogged through our neighborhood shirtless almost made up for the downsides.