A blush climbed the boy’s cheekbones.“No.”That single word had all of a teenager’s contempt for anyone older than twenty.“We talked.A lot.He knew I was gay.I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but he was afraid.He wasn’t like other adults.He was cool.He was, like, a friend.So, I told him he could tell me anything.That he could trust me.It took a long time—he was so messed up, you know, from growing up in the church, and, like, by his age, it was really hard for him to be honest about himself.”
The combination of that insight into Brennon’s character, delivered with Daniel’s kid-like lack of experience, made Jem want to close his eyes.
“That’s when I kissed him,” Daniel said, a note of pride entering his voice.“When he told me he was gay too.He hadn’t ever told anyone that.He was so brave.That’s when I fell in love with him.”As Daniel delivered the final words, his expression hardened into a challenge.
“What?”Jem said.
“We loved each other.We were in love.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
Something close to frustration darted through Daniel’s face, and Jem had to work not to laugh, because he got the feeling that what Daniel was really trying to say—what hewantedto say—wasFight me.
“And it wasn’t bad,” Daniel said with that same note that was somewhere between bratty and defiant.“It wasn’t ugly or—or abusive.I don’t feel bad about it or sad or mad or anything except happy.”
“Great,” Jem said.“I don’t care.”
For the second time, frustration—now trailed by confusion—made its way across the boy’s features.“Everybody says it was bad.Everybody talks about him like he hurt me.But he didn’t.We never did anything I didn’t want to do.We never did anything that I didn’t start.Bren never wanted me to feel uncomfortable.”
I bet, Jem thought.But he said, “Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.But did you know the age of consent in lots of countries is fourteen or fifteen?The only reason it’s eighteen is because Americans are all so sexually repressed.I know what I’m doing.I can make my own choices.It’s not like some switch is going to flip in my brain when I turn eighteen.And neuroscience shows that the brain doesn’t finish maturing until the twenties, so if we’re going to do this by science, then the age of consent needs to be a lot higher.”
“Well, that would seriously bum out an entire generation of college fuckboys,” Jem said.
“I was totally capable of saying no to Bren whenever I wanted—”
Jem bup-bupped him into silence and held up a hand.“Zero fucks given, Danny-me-lad.Zero.Save it for somebody else.”
Helplessness softened the line of Daniel’s mouth.
“I know,” Jem said.“You want to prove everybody wrong.Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of chances.”
“My whole life, everyone made me feel bad for who I liked and what I wanted.I’m not going to let them make me feel bad about this.”
“Is that why you’re running away?”
The lockdown happened so quickly that it caught Jem off guard.Face set, Daniel cut his gaze away.
Now, what the hell did that mean?
Jem considered the boy.What secret had Jem just stepped on?Was it a secret?Or embarrassment?Or pure stubborn opposition?No, it was a secret.But what—
“Oh shit,” Jem said, and he rubbed his forehead.“You think you’re going to kill this guy?”
Daniel didn’t answer.But he shifted on the curb, as though readying himself to launch to his feet, and fear tightened his jaw.
“That’s why you were out in that park?Jesus Christ, kid, you werebait?”
Daniel’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t answer.
“You’d better start talking,” Jem said, “or I’m going to march your ass upstairs and tell Mommy you need to be locked up until we find this guy.”
“He killed Bren!Hekilledhim!And now Bren’s gone, and I can’t do anything!”Fresh tears slid down Daniel’s cheeks, but he didn’t seem to notice them.“I have to do something!”
“Yeah, well, getting yourself killed isn’t going to help Brennon.”
“I can take care of myself!”