Being gay is a curse when the homophobia you grew up with was so bad that you're homophobic yourself. Especially when you're into unavailable guys like your roommate, whose girlfriend is everything you're not (though appearances can be deceiving). S...
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"I have news."
I almost fell off my lecture chair in surprise, and I turned my head to see a guy with dark hair and a blue sweater rolled up at the elbows, standing beside me, a big smile on his face. He pushed the seat next to me down so he could sit on it, already knowing full well that I'd want to hear his news. Because this was not just any guy. This was Austin, my main gossip provider.
Not really, though.
He was one of those people who simply couldn't contain their excitement and I was always happy to listen. Especially now that my brain was more cluttered than ever. No matter what I tried, I could not stop thinking about my parents and the fight we'd had about Jackson, because there was no way they would change their mind anytime soon, and I greatly appreciated all the kinds of distraction my friends could throw at me. I'd even considered watching an episode of that anime Harriet kept gushing about, but she said I wouldn't understand without watching the first three seasons and I wasn't really in the mood to catch up on my own.
So I turned to offer Austin a smile and asked, "What's the news?"
Our friendship was mutually beneficial. I listened to his stories for my own enjoyment, and Austin, who was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, was damn lucky he told me and not some gossipmonger who was just as bad as him at being silent. I was the filter that kept everyone's secrets from getting spilled. Other than that and whatever the professor of our shared general education course blabbered on about every week, Austin and I didn't really talk about much.
In fact, it'd been a few weeks since we'd talked, apart from the occasional message about our coursework. He always forgot to do it and then asked me what the next lecture was going to be about so he could skim the pages an hour ahead of the lecture.
He opened a notebook, of which he'd ripped out half of the pages and covered the other half in dark scribbles, and whispered, "Okay, I'm actually not supposed to tell anyone..."
Really?
"But I gotta tell someone."
I chuckled and shook my head to myself. "Sure."
It's not as if it was impossible to just not say anything...
I suppose it was to Austin, but before he could tell me his story, our professor walked in, immediately turning on her projector and welcoming us, and he let out a deep sigh. "I'll tell you after, okay? I think I'm gonna fail this class if I don't take any notes."
"Fuck, you've got me on the edge of my seat now," I grumbled.
"Sorry," he laughed, before asking me for a pen.
Rolling my eyes, I handed him one, and patiently waited for this class to be over so he could feed my addiction. I couldn't concentrate on all these stupid general education courses. I'd never understood why I had to follow courses that weren't in any way relevant to my major. Why on earth would I need anything math related if I wanted to become a lawyer? It was such a waste of time.
