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And so we eat, and while we do, I ask him every question that’s popped into my brain since I met him.
“Since I ranted to you the first two nights you were here, I feel like you already know everything about me. You sure as hell know more than anyone other than my sisters.”
“You can ask me anything,” he says softly, but he straightens like he’s bracing for me to go into all the terrible things—which of course I won’t.
I know those are important events in his life, but they’re not for tonight.
“Why did you want to become a teacher?”
His shoulders fall as the edges of his lips lift. Even while he chews, the smile cannot be contained.
I mentally pat myself on the back.
“I used to have this teacher, Mrs. Cambry, she was the art and english teacher at my school and she was the best. Funny, kind, a great listener, but also put her foot down when she had to. She somehow earned the respect of every eight-year-old she met.
“When I was seventeen and starting to think about college, I went back to my elementary school and talked to her, asked her what it was really like. She gave me some great advice, but more than that, she told me she believed in me. I learned right then that that is pretty much the only thing kids need in school. For someone to believe in them.”
My jock brain can come up with only two things to say. “That’s awesome. You’re awesome.” It’s not very . . . eloquent or like, smart.
My cheeks start to heat up.
I’ve got a business degree from Columbia, for fuck’s sake, I’m not uneducated. I should know how to sound smarter.
But Sunny laughs, and thanks me as if I didn’t just reduce his career and purpose into one very overused word.
I need to keep this moving.
“Who was your gay awakening?”
“Captain America,” he says without a pause. I burst out laughing—maybe a bit much, but there’s some tension release going on.
“I respect that.”
“How about you?” His smile is teasing but so so natural and relaxed. This is exactly what I wanted.
“Everyone in The Mummy of course. Everyone in that movie is hot as fuck, but Captain America was good too. Peggy Carter is an amazing woman,” I say dreamily.
Sunny snorts and nods in agreement while covering his mouth.
“After watching that movie, I realized all my school friends were obsessed with her, so I thought well, if I’m not, if I’m only thinking about Chris Evans’s ass and arms, then I have to be gay, right?”
I snort.
“That is the logical conclusion.”
“How did your sisters take it when you told them?” he asks, his head tilting curiously.
“They threw me a party at Avery’s.” I nod when he chuckles. “She was married and had just had Steven who’s about to turn eight, but she still managed to drape the whole house in blue, purple, and pink.”
“That’s how it should be,” he says dreamily, and I agree.
“After the party, that’s when they explained to me in excruciating detail why I could never let Jim find out.”
We both sigh in resignation at that. Every queer person knows what that’s like, having that one person in their life they know they wouldn’t be safe with if they found out their truth.
“And now he’s dead,” Sunny says, surprising the hell out of me.
We trade easy questions for the rest of the meal—favorite queer show, movie, or book. We talk about going to a drag show or drag brunch with the boys.