I swallow. “Okay, so I told you how my dad saw us on my birthday. He didn’t see us kiss, but he saw us holding hands when he picked me up. I guess it was enough to...raise alarms.”

Will’s fingers flex against my thighs.

I can do this.

“I thought...well, I thought that was it, you know? He punished me. I told him I’d never do something like that again. I told him I’d never talk to you again. He told me I was grounded for the summer...” I shake my head, frowning slightly. “I thought it was...over with. Forgotten.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I press on. Filling him in on some of the details surrounding that time.

“After you beat up Billy, CPS showed up at my house.”

Will straightens, perking to attention. “What?”

I look up for a beat. “Yeah. I thought you told someone what you originally suspected, or I don’t know—”

He’s shaking his head.

“I know. But I didn’t then.” I smile faintly, apologetically. “My dad was convinced you had something to do with it, and I guess I just let myself believe it too. It was...easier.”

He’s still frowning, but I save that discussion for another time.

“My dad had a lot of power back then,” I go on. “And by power, I mean pity. I’ve no doubt people suspected something was off even before that, but I guess they figured he was just...neglectful, if anything. Not enough to warrant any real concern.”

Will’s fingers tighten and I reach out, easing his grip. He mutters a “sorry” and tangles his fingers with mine. My skin is clammy, but he doesn’t seem to even notice.

I focus on our joined hands now as I say, “Anyway, fast-forward to summer break. I think it spooked him, having CPS visit, even though nothing came of it. I was confined to my house for the summer. I didn’t leave that house for over two months. Sixty-five days, to be exact.”

His breathing seems to slow as if he senses that the worst is yet to come.

“No one knew I was there,” I say quietly. “He told everyone I went to camp.”

Will stiffens.

I smile bitingly. “Not too far off, right? I guess dear ol’ Pops decided to do some light reading on what to do if your kid shows ‘homosexual tendencies,’” I say sarcastically. “Decided to make a father-son bonding thing out of it.”

Will’s hand falls away from mine, and I look up to find him staring back at me in horror.

Softly, I say, “You can imagine where I’m going with this.”

His jaw clenches. “Conversion therapy?”