“I…I don’t know.”
“But you’re nineteen. Of course you know.”
“You’re nineteen, and you just had your first date.”
I sighed. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
I counted to ten. “Do you like girls?” He nodded. “Do you like boys?”
And he seemed to count to twenty. “I like you. You happen to be a boy. Life isn’t always so black and white, Eddie.”
A flush of red worked its way up my neck. Three boys had told me they liked me—as in “like me” like me—in less than a day. When it rains it pours. And look at me, no umbrella. “I have Trevor.”
“You already said that.”
Again, I sighed. “It was more for my benefit than yours.”
He held his hand out. “No worries, Eddie. We can just be friends. That’s fine with me. That’s better than fine, in fact.”
I took his hand in mine. A spark rode up
