And don’t I know it because my best friend is Kingston Wells.

The fucking loudmouth.

I still can’t believe I had to dress up and go to that damn dance. It was awkward as hell when Kennedy and Kingston encouraged us to dance—neither of us into each other. We just did our time and then hung out at one of the tables to wait for it to end.

After the dance, we all went back to Kingston’s to change out of our formal clothes—having left our overnight bags there—and then we headed out to the field where we hold most of our parties. Oakley Easton’s parents live on forty acres, but most of it’s deserted land way back from the house and accessed by a separate gravel road.

Whether they know we’re having a party out there or not has yet to be seen, but my guess is they wouldn’t care. They’re all for their kids having a good time, be it legal or not. Is it right? Who the hell knows? And I’m not one to really care.

Now, I’m sitting on the tailgate of my truck with LeAnn as we watch Kennedy and Kingston make out by the fire, while everyone else dances and sings to one of the old country songs blaring from the radio.

“You think you should go ahead and stick your tongue down my throat now?” LeAnn asks, and I swear I nearly fall off the tailgate from shock.

“W-what?” Shit, my throat has gone totally dry. I barely croak the word out, but LeAnn tosses her head back and laughs before leaning her shoulder into mine.

“I’m kidding. They look ridiculous,” she says as she watches our best friends. I grimace, looking away, my gut sour.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

She turns to me, her expression sad. “It’s okay, you know.”

There’s that sick feeling again as I watch her with guarded caution. “What is?”

She looks away and lets out a sigh. “It’s just okay. I’m never going to tell anyone, Camden. I know you aren’t into me.” Her eyes meet mine, and my heart starts racing at her knowing gaze. “I know you aren’t into any girl.”

No.

My palms start to sweat, and my heart speeds up even more while I try my best to speak. To argue with her. To tell her she’s insane. But then again, I’m tired. For so many reasons, I’m so damn tired.

I’ve known I was gay for a long time. But I’ve also heard the ignorant bullshit spewed in every locker-room I’ve ever been in, in the halls of the school, at family gatherings, and at the tavern my mom works where we go to shoot pool sometimes. It’s everywhere. Being called gay is an insult around here.

And I don’t dare tell the truth.