“This,” Adam says, when it’s over, “is the most right I’ve ever felt.” His cheeks are damp against mine, and I think it’s just sweat, but then he sniffles and it sounds like he’s crying.

“What?” I ask, without knowing what I’m really asking. I don’t know the right question or if there even is a question. But I know it’s the most right I’ve ever felt too, and I don’t want to cry. I want him to be happy with me.

“Can I tell you something?” he says.

“Yes.”

“When I was fourteen, I slept with my stepmother.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, she made me. And then she held it over my head that it happened. That she could tell my dad at any moment and he would send me away. So I didn’t tell him and I couldn’t stop her. But then he found out. He caught us.”

“Is that when you were homeless?” I ask.

I can feel Adam nod his head.

“I slept in the park or hid in the library. He didn’t even care until a cop caught me sleeping on a bus bench and brought me home. Then he sent me to live with my grandparents and told them it was because he wanted me in that school district.” There’s a super-long silence, but I can tell Adam isn’t waiting for me to say something, he’s trying to find his words. “My dad didn’t even leave her. Like I was the fault. I was the problem. Even though I was fourteen. He’s still married to her, I think. I don’t know for sure, but he didn’t leave her when it happened.”

“What about your mom?” I ask.

“She’s an alcoholic. I guess my dad felt like it was easier to pay her alimony so she could sit in her condo and drink herself to death. You know, instead of getting her help or caring.”

I hug him tight like somehow it could fix things.

“In college once,” he says, “I told one of my friends. We were up late drinking and I couldn’t get it out of my head, what happened, so I told him, because maybe it would make me feel better for someone to know. But he was all, ‘Dude! Older chicks!’ like it was something I’d chosen to do. It was the worst feeling, to have my friend not get that it wasn’t a good thing, that I was just a kid. So I never told anyone else.”

I squeeze him tighter.

“That’s why I took so long to—for us to—”

I kiss him so he doesn’t have to say it. “It’s okay. It’s nice that we waited.”