Nicky's smile was slow and pleased as he thought about his long-distance boyfriend. It was a more reserved expression than Neil usually saw on his face. It made Neil wonder if Nicky was naturally loud or if he exaggerated his outgoing nature to balance his unfriendly cousins.

"Funny," Nicky said. "That didn't used to be my type. None of the others I crushed on growing up were anything like that. Maybe that's why none of them could help me."

Nicky turned his hands palm-up on the table and considered them. "My parents are kind of crazy, you know? There's religious and there's super psychotic religious. Me and Renee, we're the decent sort, I think. We go to different churches and have some different ideas, but we respect each other anyway. We understand that religion is just an interpretation of faith. But my parents are the black-and-white crazy kind. It's only right and wrong with them: hellfire and damnation and judgment from on high.

"For some reason I tried coming out to them anyway," Nicky said. "Mom was pretty upset. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried and prayed for days. Dad took a more direct route and shipped me off to Christian gay camp. I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight.

"It didn't work," Nicky said. "For a while I wished it did. I went home feeling like an abomination and a failure. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I lied. I pretended to be straight for the rest of high school. I even dated a couple girls. I kissed a couple of them, but I used my faith as an excuse never to get further than first base. I knew I just had to keep it together until graduation.

"I hated my life so much," Nicky said. "I couldn't do that, you know? I couldn't live a lie like that day after day. I felt trapped. Some days I thought God abandoned me; sometimes I thought I failed Him. Halfway through my junior year I started thinking about suicide. Then my German teacher took me aside and told me about a study abroad program. She would set it all up for me, she said, if my parents would sign off on it. She'd handle admissions and get a host family and everything. It'd be expensive, but she thought I needed a change in scenery. Guess she knew I was that close to the edge.