seems to snap and crackle between us.

“Jace,” I say quietly.

This is your moment to tell him.

He pushes closer, water lapping against my stomach. My heart hammers so hard against my chest

I’m sure it’s going to break a rib.

“Yeah?” He bites his lip for a moment and it’s beautiful. “What’s up, Coop?”

“I—I—”

My foot slips on pebbles and I topple into Jace, smacking his chest as I try to correct myself. Jace’s

feet slip and bang against mine again—

We fall and the water sucks us under. Our bodies slide together as Jace pushes against me to set us

on our feet again. His arm leaves my waist when we are both upright. I splutter up the water I

swallowed.

Jace’s loud laughter echoes off the rocks and bounces off my skin. It tickles in a good way, and I

start laughing too.

We splash each other and laugh hysterically.

We don’t stop until something slithers around my ankle and Jace swears to God it wasn’t him.

“Eel!” I bound for the riverbank.

Jace charges behind me, alternating between swearing and laughing.

“Maybe it’s not an eel. Maybe it’s a freshwater mermaid trying to pull you, her aquamarine

treasure, to the depths where you belong.”

“You researched my birthstone?” I ask as we struggle into our clothes.

“Maybe a little.” He slips his T-shirt over his head. “Did you know aquamarine is thought to cure

the poisoned?”

I do know this. I also know it’s a beryl mineral and ranges from 7.5 to 8 on the Mohs scale—I like

to think I’m an aquamarine in strength of soul and mind, but I fear I break too easily. “If you’re ever

poisoned, Jace, I’ll kiss you better.”

He laughs. I laugh.

We ride that wave home.

chert

When I wake up, I’m in my bed and Jace is plastered over my back. I can feel his breath falling in

regular intervals on the collar of my T-shirt. His arm is around me but a touch lower than usual. My

morning wood is practically poking his forearm and it feels great.

I wiggle down but I only make the situation worse. Now his morning wood is pressing against the

back of my balls. So much for escaping to the bathroom without waking him. I roll my shoulder back so

it hits his chest.

Jace jerks out of sleep, throwing his hands up so fast he bashes the greenstone against his teeth.

“Huh? What?”

“We’ve got school,” I tell him.

He rolls over to check the clock and groans. “Do we have to?”

“Yep. I’d rather get ready now than have Dad come in and yell at us.”

Especially since we’re in the same bed.

Not that anything’s going on under the sheets, but it can’t look good. What would Dad say? Would

he freak out? Would he take it in stride?

It isn’t like we’re related, after all.

Jace leaps out of bed like I’m holding a hot prong to his backside, and zips to his bedroom. I pull

my shit together and am ready a half-hour later. Jace leaves his room at the same time, stuffing a

notebook into his backpack.

It’s been a while, so I scowl at him.

He scowls back. And then it’s off to school. Annie is away on a field trip so it’s just us. I head to

the bus stop and Jace stops me halfway down the driveway.

“Hide in the backseat and I’ll drive you.”

I bite my lip. He’s snuck me out a few times, and every time it’s an adrenalin rush. I freak out

thinking he’ll be pulled over. “Sure,” I say, and head for his hatchback. Like always, we part ways at

school and don’t look back.

Ernie and Bert meet me in the gym with fist bumps and high fives.

Ernie slings an arm around my neck in a headlock. Bert yells out, “Who’s got the Coop?” Ernie

shouts back, “I got the Coop.” Their voices echo in the locker room, eliciting sniggers from our

classmates. With a playful shove, Ernie lets me go. We’re dressing into sports gear when Bert pins a

look to Ernie which can only mean they’re about to gang up on me. I have a feeling I know what it’s

about. They want me to tag along at the school dance coming up. I’ve avoided it the last three years.

Ernie and Bert gesture to all the guys in the changing room.

“Everyone’s going to be there, dude. You gotta come to this dance. It’s our second to last year of

high school! We might actually get lucky this year.”

Someone snorts and Bert narrows his eyes on the culprit. “Shut up, Frank.”

“So will you?” Ernie continues, and Bert in his infinite wisdom adds, “If you don’t, people might

think you’re scared of the girls. Or that you’re a fag.”

The last few years have proven their mouths are bigger than their ass holes for all the shit that

comes out of them. But this is cutting close to home, and heat is rising to my cheeks. I stutter and stuff

on a sneaker, yanking the laces tightly. I don’t dare to look at them. Put your other shoe on, tie it up, get

into the gym.

Ernie crouches to my level. His eyebrows look like one long black caterpillar. “Are you?” he asks

quietly, and when I don’t—can’t—say anything and work the second sneaker, he swears. “Shit, you

are.”

He hasn’t spoken particularly loud but the guys in my class seem to have a gossip radar stronger

than my grandmother’s. The changing room grows eerily quiet. A few shuffles, someone zipping a bag,

and the sound of feet as someone leaves, but the rest is mute. Ernie and Bert are staring at me but the

other guys’ gazes are fixed on the walls, the hooks, or the cubbyholes. Their ears strain, anticipating

whatever’s coming next.

I don’t give it to them. Won’t.

I stuff my clothes into my bag, push past Ernie and Bert, shove the bag into a cubby hole and walk

out of there as calmly as possible.

No one says anything during gym. Near the end Ernie tries to grab my arm, but I shake him off.

When it’s time to change back into my jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, I zone out until it’s just me and

the wood-paneled corner of the room.

English class comes next. Whispers stir, and guys avoid looking my way. Girls glance at me

furtively, curious and sympathetic.

I scribble harder, concentrating on the text in front of me until the words pop out from the book and

don’t make sense. I’m living in a cocoon of heat, and I’m just wishing it to blow over. I never admitted

anything. They don’t know.

First break comes, and I hole myself up in the library. The whispers will stop soon. I’m not cool

enough for this to be big gossip. By lunchtime, half my class will have forgotten.

But they haven’t. Everywhere I look, someone looks back at me. My toes tingle with the first signs

of panic but I steel myself against it. It’s just a rumor. Stupid rumors. And no one is being a stupid dick

about it anyway. At least not to my face. They all just leave me alone, give me a wider berth than

normal, a berth that is swollen with their whispers. It’s like the telephone game, where each whisper

gets exaggerated, until he might be gay becomes he loves to take it up the ass.

Ernie and Bert are speaking in hushed tones at our brick wall in the courtyard. Bert shrugs and

gestures for me to come over there, but if I do, I’m telling them this is all their fucking fault. Then

they’ll have all the proof they need that they’re right. I am a fag.

I grit my teeth, twist away from them, and scan the courtyard for a new place to sit.

My gaze falls on a familiar figure perched on a bench in the middle of the courtyard.

A skateboarder whizzes past me and jumps onto a low ramp, twisting and landing steadily.

My view opens up once more, and there’s Jace sitting next to Darren and some other dude he hangs

out with. Darren is talking to him, and the way he’s hunched and leaning in has me holding my breath.