I turned off the engine of the car. I paused, closing my eyes, to take a deep breath. I'd put this part off for as long as I could. The game was tomorrow night. It was now or never.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Emmett asked. "Once you're out, you're out. Like you said, there's no going back."

I looked over at him and smiled. "I know."

"Maybe I can go to Alfie. Convince him not to go through with it."

"No." I shook my head. "You aren't doing that. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of either of us begging him. He'll always be able to hold this over us." I reached over to cup Emmett's cheek in my hand. "Besides, I've been hiding for months. I'm tired of it."

Emmett gripped my hand, pulling it over to his lips, pressing them into my palm. "Well, I'm right here."

I looked out through the front windshield at Brandon's house. Jackson's car sat in the circle driveway in front of Tyler's filthy truck. Jackson texted to tell me they were all here, so I assumed Mark had caught a ride with one of them since he didn't have a car of his own.

If I was going to out myself to the entire school, I felt like I needed to tell them first. They were my friends. They deserved to know without being blindsided. I was also curious to see their first reaction.

"Do you want me to wait out here?" Emmett asked as I opened my door to get out.

"No." I reached over to hold his hand, gripping his fingers tight. "I'm gonna need all the support I can get. I'm kinda terrified that they'll react badly."

As we walked up the wide steps to the front door, Emmett rubbed my back. "Well, at least you know you've got Jackson on your side already."

Lucia, Brandon's housekeeper, answered the door. Having known me for years, she didn't bother greeting me. She just said, "Brandon is in the den."

I thanked the woman and gestured for Emmett to follow.

The hallways seemed much longer than they ever had, the vaulted ceiling higher. Everything seemed too large.

The painted dead eyes of the portraits followed my every step, judging me for daring to love another boy, and bringing that boy into this temple of conservatism and "traditional family values." They supported every gun-toting loon who entered the political arena. They might as well have NRA, white Jesus, and Pro-Life stamped on their family crest.

I startled when Emmett rubbed his hand along my back between my shoulder blades. "You can do this." he whispered.

I wiped away the nervous sweat from my upper lip and forced a smile.

I entered the den to find my friends gathered around the pool table. Brandon made a shot that sank two balls into the pocket. "Ha! Suck my cock, bitches."

The other three groaned and grumbled with irritation. It wasn't his foul mouth that bothered them. Brandon always talked like that. It was the rubbing his victories in everyone's faces.

"Who's winning?" I asked.

They all looked over, surprised. They also threw curious glances at Emmett beside me. Emmett hadn't been in the same place with all of them at one time since the ATV track. That was almost three months ago now.

"Me, obviously." Brandon said, laying his pool cue on the table. "So Jackson says you have something to tell us."

"He's been super encryptic about it." Tyler added.

Brandon grunted, "Moron," under his breath.

They abandoned their game, congregating on the leather couches arranged around the wood-burning fireplace. A giant stuffed moose head hung above the mantle, which displayed a collection of photos of Brandon with his dad and his three older brothers posing with a series of dead animals that they'd hunted. The pictures always made me queasy, especially the one of Brandon at ten with his first deer, blood streaked across his face to commemorate his first kill. The glass cabinet filled with guns that lined the back wall didn't help my nerves, either.

"He wouldn't tell us what it is," Mark said. "Only that it's important and that we need to hear you out."

When Mark propped his feet on the coffee table, Brandon kicked his ankles and glared at him. "Were you raised in a goddamn barn? That thing cost four thousand dollars. My dad had it custom made from African wood or some shit like that."

Brandon ignored Mark's sour face and turned to me. "What's this big news, Clay?"

Tyler snorted, laughing. "Did you knock up Summer?"

I let out a strained laugh. "Not even close."

"Guys!" Jackson snapped. "Just let him tell it."

I offered him a grateful smile. Jackson nodded, putting his arms up on the back of the sofa that he had all to himself.

I picked at a hangnail on my thumb, trying to figure out where to start. It came loose, leaving a line of blood in the corner of my nail.

"Clay?" Brandon sat forward, concern drawing his brows down in the center. "Are you okay?"

Emmett finally moved from where he'd planted himself by the door. He came over to put a hand on my shoulder. Brandon, Mark, and Tyler all shared looks.

I felt like the Tin Man with rusted joints as I turned my head. That small movement seemed to take extra effort.

Emmett smiled and nodded. Adoration written all over his face. He didn't have to say anything. I just understood that he was letting me know he loved me.

I took a deep breath and faced my friends. Emmett gave me the inspiration I needed. "Y'all are like my brothers. You always have been. I love you guys."

"Seriously, Clay. You're kinda freaking me out here." Brandon said.

Shifting my weight from one foot to other and back again, I scratched the back of my neck where the hairs prickled with my growing anxiety. I kept my eyes fixed on the antler chandelier hanging above us, unable to look at them. My breathing stuttered. "Um... so, Emmett... Emmett isn't just... he's not just my friend." I turned my eyes to the rug. "He's my buh... He's m-m-my boyfriend."

Emmett slipped his hand into mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

I finally looked at them. "We're dating."

"Fucking hell, Clay!" Brandon blew out a heavy sigh, brushing his hand over his face and through his blond hair. "Is that all? You had me thinking you had a fucking brain tumor. I thought you were gonna say you have like a month to live. Fuck!"

A relieved laugh bubbled out of me. "Nope. No. Totally healthy. And, you know—" I shrugged, trying for a casualness that I did not feel "—gay."

Brandon stood up and walked over to stand in front of me. He looked Emmett over before turning his gaze to meet mine. "Honestly, I did kinda wonder about you guys. I just didn't want to say anything in case I was wrong."

That had me taken aback. He was the first person to say that. That made me curious. "What made you wonder?"

"I dunno." Brandon shrugged. "The handful of times I've seen y'all together, you both always stare at each other. Not to mention the fact that you're always together. Every time I call you to hang out, you're with him. And you touch each other a lot. Like a lot, a lot. If it's not your hands, it's your shoulders, or your legs. And you walk so close together, like you want to touch, but you're, like, afraid or something."

I did not know it was that obvious. I thought I'd hidden it well. Emmett certainly didn't seem to know. Although Brandon had a point. I used any excuse I could find to touch Emmett, even if only for a moment.

"I did try to ask you about it once," Brandon said, "but you didn't seem to get what I was I saying, so I dropped it. I figured you'd say something eventually if it was real."

"The arcade," I said, recalling our weird conversation in Brandon's truck. "When you asked if I knew he was gay? You've suspected it for that long?"

Brandon nodded.

"Is that why you came after me that day at the pond? When Mark said my hair was gay."

"I didn't say your hair was gay. I said talking about it was." He sounded defensive, then he shrunk back against the couch cushions, folding his arms together. "But, I mean, I'm sorry about that, I guess."

Brandon ignored Mark and said, "Yeah. I hoped we could talk about it then. But you looked so freaked out and scared, so I gave you an excuse to pretend it wasn't what it was."

"Thank you." I appreciated that. Because I was freaking out that day. I might have fainted if he told me he knew then.

"How long have you been gay?" Tyler asked. He looked like he was doing mental math.

Brandon cut a harsh glare at him, making him shrink back into the couch. "Fucking halfwit."

"I didn't figure it out until I met Emmett," I answered, feeling slightly bad for Tyler. Brandon was always picking on him. "And before you ask, I'm not bisexual. I've never been into girls. I only started dating because all you guys did, and I felt left out or something. Honestly, I didn't even know I was into guys before I met Emmett. I thought I just wasn't into anything. But I think I always have been, I just didn't want to accept it."

"Why are you telling us this now?" Mark asked. His face was unreadable. I wondered what he was thinking.

Before I could answer Mark, Brandon asked, "How come you didn't invite Duke? Does he already know, like Jackson?"

I looked at Emmett and back at Brandon. "Duke knows. He's kinda the reason I'm telling you."

"What does that mean?" Mark asked, suddenly curious. Duke was his best friend.

"Duke said he's going to out me." I explained the situation as best as I could without telling them Duke's motives. Despite his betrayal, I refused to do to him what he was threatening to do to me. That's why I declined Emmett's offer to, in his words, "pull an Uno reverse on that son of a bitch" and blackmail Duke with all the texts and DMs he'd sent Emmett throughout their relationship. I couldn't do it. It wasn't right under any circumstances.

Brandon's face turned harsh. "So, why the fuck aren't we on our way to kick Duke's ass right now? That's so not cool."

"Why is Duke doing this?" Tyler asked. He took his hat off and scratched his buzzed head.

"Holy shit, Ty!" Brandon stared at Tyler, shaking his head. "You actually asked an intelligent question for once in your life."

I punched Brandon's shoulder. "Leave him alone."

Brandon turned to me, tilting his head. "I'm flabbergasted to admit it, but Tyler has a point. I mean, I know Duke is a dick, but he's never been hateful to someone unless he thought they deserved it."

"Just tell them, Clay," Jackson said. "You don't have to protect him."

"No," I refused, crossing my arms.

"Then I'll tell them."

"Jackson, I swear to God, if you say another word I'll never speak to you again."

Jackson leaned back against the cushions behind him, twisting his mouth into a tight pucker.

"Is anyone else confused?" Tyler asked.

Mark raised his hand. "Me."

Brandon threw up his hands in frustration. "Somebody needs to tell me what the actual fuck is going on."

"Look," I said, slicing my hand through the air. "It doesn't matter why Duke is doing this. He just is. That's all you need to know."

"My head hurts." Tyler rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Brandon ignored him, crossing his arms. "So, what are you going to do about him?"

"Nothing," I said. I laid my hand over my heart. "I just wanted you to hear this from me, so that you understand why I'm doing what I'm about to do. I thought y'all deserved that much. Like I said, you're like my brothers." I locked eyes with each of them. I felt like I might cry. My voice wavered a bit when I said, "And I hope you always will be."

"Dude, of course. And same." Brandon laid a hand on my shoulder. He pulled me in for a tight hug. And not just a two-second, slap-on-the-back bro-hug. He actually embraced me. Which was really nice. He pulled back, returning his hand to my shoulder with a firm, but not unpleasant, grip. "But what the hell are you doing?"

Jackson leaned forward in his seat. "I'm also unclear on that part. You never explained your plan to me."

Emmett and I sat down on the couch beside Jackson, and I laid out my plan. It was nothing elaborate, but it would do the trick.