A Beginner's Guide to the American West ✓

chapter forty-eight

f o r t y - e i g h t

*
I fell asleep in the bath yesterday. All of the travel must have really taken it out of me, because not long after I submersed myself in a tub of lavender bubbles, my eyes were closed. Some time later, I sank low enough to choke on a lungful of soapy water, resulting in a coughing fit so loud and violent that my dad almost came barging in to perform the Heimlich.

The rest of the day is a blur. After more than an hour in the bath, which felt like my first proper wash in three weeks – except, perhaps, the time I shared a shower with Arjun and he made sure every inch of me was sparkling – I lay out in the garden with my parents and my sister while Pebs was at a friends’ house.

Florence did most of the questioning, but I barely remember answering. I may have told her to give me a day to recover, in which case I’m in for a wild ride today. Despite how much I slept before I made it home, I still ended up in bed at nine o’clock, and I slept for thirteen hours. Now I’m still tired – I may have slept too much – and a bit disorientated.

I roll onto my side and grab my phone, and my hands fall on my old glasses, the ones I forgot to take with me – and hardly ever wear – even though, if I’m honest, they help. At the same moment, a text buzzes in from Arjun.

ARJUN: morning! i miss you! a lot! are you free to talk?

I text him back an enthusiastic yes, first of all, and an incoming call instantly takes over my phone. I answer, cradling it to my ear.

“Hi,” I say, my voice croaking on the first word of the day.

“Hey, March.” Arjun sounds alive and awake and a little breathless. “Hey, are you ok? Everything good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Tired, but good. How’re you?” I prop myself up on my elbow and rub my eyes, unused to these glasses. Yes, they make my screen a little clearer, the words easier to read, but it feels weird to have them on my face.

“Good. Brilliant. Over the moon,” he says with a laugh, and I’d think he was being sarcastic if he didn’t sound so genuine. It’s jarring, especially when it’s the first thing I’ve heard this morning. “I, uh, I came out to my parents.”

Oh. Oh, shit. I scramble to sit straight and almost pass out when the blood rushes to my head too fast. “Oh my god, and it’s ok? Are you ok?”

“I’m great.” He lets out a long sigh, and he laughs again. “I mean, they’d have known already if either of them used Facebook, but they’re dinosaurs. They asked about the trip and I said it was great and I met someone, and I told them about you, and my dad asked if I’m gay.”

My heart twinges at the thought alone. Even when I knew my parents wouldn’t care, I could’ve shat myself from the stress of the conversation alone. “What’d you say?” I ask.

“I told him I don’t know what I am, if I’m bi or pan or something else, I don’t know. But I told them that we’re together and I love you and I’m crazy about you, and…” He trails off, and I can still hear his glee even in this silent pause. “Well, they didn’t seem very surprised.”

“Really?”

“So, I mean, good news – they don’t care, and they’re supportive. Bad news – apparently they had a clue before I did, which says a lot about me and my self-awareness.”

I stretch out like a lazy cat and smile, flicking back my curtain to let in a sliver of sunlight. “I think it means you have great parents,” I say, my voice warming up to being used again. “Congratulations. That’s awesome, Arjun. God, I’m so happy for you.”