Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Who’s it from?” I asked.
“What?”
“The hickey.” I sat on the cushion beside him.
“Oh. Shit. Emma Larson. I asked her out. She said yes.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Dude, you just broke up with Jessica last week.” But Emma was really pretty, and I could see why Isaac would like her. Plus, I had English with her and knew she was nicer than Jessica.
“So?”
“Whatever.” I stood, and Isaac laughed. I went to the desk and grabbed my sketchbook. “Be quiet and let me draw you.”
“I hate it when you want to draw me.”
He always said that but always let me. I didn’t think he really disliked it. “I’m not as good at people, but they’re my favorite. I need to practice for college.” I was still trying to figure out who I was, what my style was, and who I’d be as an artist.
Isaac shook his head, took his shoes off, and lay down on the couch. His legs hung over the arm of it because he was so long. “You’re the best artist I know.”
“I’m the only artist you know.”
“Well, you’re still fucking good.” He turned his head to the side to look at me.
“Just like that. Don’t move.” I grabbed a charcoal pencil and pulled the chair over in front of him.
“But it does make sense…why you would want to draw someone as hot as me,” Isaac teased. He didn’t lack confidence, that was for sure, but I also knew that some of it was a facade.
Just like somehow, I knew he was sad tonight.
“You know you don’t have to pretend with me. You never have,” I said, starting to draw.
“I’m not pretending. I’m hot. All the girls say so.”
They did, but he was my brother and a dude, so I didn’t see him like that.
I ignored him because I didn’t want to argue with him. Plus, I knew Isaac. He closed himself off when he wasn’t ready.
So I drew, and he lay there watching me. Eventually, he closed his eyes, but I could tell he wasn’t sleeping.
I rubbed my finger over the charcoal line I’d just drawn, smudging Isaac’s hair some. He opened his eyes and looked at me. “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer.
“How do you always know when something’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “Just know you.”
“No one else does.”
I frowned, unsure how to answer that. “Stepbrother bond, I guess.”
Isaac rolled his eyes, then turned them back to me. He didn’t say anything for a while, and I didn’t either. I just kept drawing, waiting. My hand was hurting because I’d been at it all day, but he wanted to talk, I could feel it, so I’d stay up all night if I had to.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he finally asked.
“Obviously.”
“This is fucking big, Lane. I’m serious. You can’t… Actually, no. I can’t even…”
Nausea swam in my gut, making it feel heavy. I put the notebook and pencil down. Clearly, this was important. He’d never sounded so unsure of himself before. “You can tell me anything. Always.”
Isaac shook his head. Sat up. Rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Shit. I hate it when I get drunk and say stuff I don’t want to say to you.”
“You haven’t said anything yet,” I replied, and then, “it’s just me. I’m your brother. You can tell me anything.”
He rested his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands, his right leg bouncing up and down. He dropped one arm. “I…I don’t like Emma. Fuck, why am I telling you this?”
Huh? That was it? “So don’t go out with her. It’s okay not to have a girlfriend, Isaac. Even if you did let her give you a hickey.”
“No, I mean…oh my God. I can’t believe I’m going to say this…” Bounce, bounce, bounce. “I didn’t like Jessica either.”
“Okay…”
His eyes bore into me so intensely, pleading with me to understand what he was trying to tell me, and…oh. Wow. No way.
“Are you saying you don’t like girls at all?” He’d already had sex twice, and I’d never even kissed anyone.
Isaac hesitated…then nodded.
“You’re gay?”
He sat up straight, head high, mask firmly in place, trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous, that he wasn’t afraid of how I would react. “Yeah.”
“Shit, man. I don’t care about that. Did you think I would?” I was shocked. Yeah, if I hadn’t been sitting, someone could have knocked me over with their pinky finger, but I didn’t care.
Isaac breathed out a sigh of relief. “No…not really. It’s scary as fuck, so part of me worried…but not with you. I know you’re not a homophobe. I just… Tonight I was kissing her, and she was kissing me, and I opened my fucking mouth and asked her out. I don’t know why I did that because in my head, I was thinking, I don’t like you, I don’t like girls, I wish you were a dude. And now I’m so fucking pissed at myself. I don’t want to play with someone’s feelings. I’m gay. So what? I don’t do this…this feeling insecure.”