It’s not that I wouldn’t want Samuel to come with me. He’d probably provide a good relief from my family, or at least be able to keep me distracted. But there’s no way in hell I’d subject him to that. Of course, they may be kinder about being trans to a stranger, but still, I’d rather not risk it.

“You could ask one of the boys.”

“Like Hoon?” I tease.

And Samuel blushes right on cue. I should probably feel bad about making fun of his crush, but I swear, it’s so obvious the two of them are in love with each other, but they just won’t do anything about it. It’s frustrating. Especially when I’m the one Samuel comes crying to about it.

“They’re all busy,” I say. “Besides, I’m not subjecting them to my family.”

“What about your roommate?” Samuel asks, his voice a little quieter due to his embarrassment. “I bet he’d help you out. Wyatt’s a nice guy, charming, funny.”

“Words used to describe most serial killers,” I say. “And since when do you have such a boner for Fowler?”

Samuel sits for a beat. “You’re being a jerk again.”

“No, I’m not. Wait—again?”

Samuel leans in even closer. “You’re being a jerk to Josh too.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“But you gotta. You can’t just dump him.”

“I didn’t dump him! We weren’t dating!”

Samuel blows a raspberry. “You could’ve fooled me.”

What is that even supposed to mean? I hardly let Josh touch me when we were out in public, and I sure as hell didn’t touch him. How could anyone read into that? Unless Josh was telling them what we did behind closed doors …

I swear to God.

“I’m leaving.” I stand up a little too quickly, wobbling my way away from Samuel.

“Wait, Neil! Come back!” he whines. “I didn’t mean it!”

When I start to walk, it feels like I’ve got concrete shoes on. My feet feel so heavy, and I only make it five steps before I stumble and try to catch myself. Except I don’t, and I land right in the dirt.

Shit.

Samuel laughs a bit before he walks over to me, hoisting me up by my arms. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

“I’m fine. I can do it alone.” Does my voice always sound this way? Suddenly my tongue feels very slippery.

“You’re drunk,” Samuel says.

“You’re drunk too.”

“Yeah, but I’m less drunk.”

I look past him toward the rest of the boys. “Bye, guys!” I wave to the others still sitting around the milk box. “Have a good spring break!”