The night was dark and silent. My ears still rustled from the loud music we had left behind, and the tears on my face felt hot as they left my eyes and dripped onto the stone.

“Why the hell are you crying, Ash?”

“You don’t have to act like you care.”

Milo snorted as if he was about to say something mean but somehow managed to collect himself.

“I care about Conor. And obviously, he cares about you. He wanted to follow you, but with all the commotion you created, I won’t let you anywhere near him before I know your deal.”

Conor wanted to follow me? Of course, he would. It’s Conor. He’s always concerned about the people around him. I wish I could go back and talk to him about all the crazy stuff going on in my head. He can’t have two relationships going on at the same time. Not Conor.

I hate my stupid brain.

Milo lifted his heavy body and let go of my arms. He sat on the ground next to me while I lay there, paralyzed by my actions, thoughts, and the inevitable end of my life as I knew it.

“Don’t try anything funny,” he said, “or I will consider punching you for real.”

A police car drove down the street, and I flinched. Did Tristan call the police? Or someone else who saw what had happened?

“I’m not,” I sniffled and pushed myself up as the stone got too cold to play victim like this any longer.

“So?” Milo stared at me, waiting for me to explain what the fuck was going on.

“It’s not that easy to explain.”

“You made Conor cry.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. I fucking warned you! He has cried enough because of you already! But of course, your stupid ass can’t stop it. Now tell me!”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me!”

“I can’t!”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because!” I raised my voice. I searched for Milo’s angry eyes but instead found a note of genuine concern in them. Was he concerned about me? Or was that directed at Conor?

“Because you probably won’t understand,” I said, lowering my voice again.

“I’ve been trying to understand you ever since you went crazy in that public swimming pool and outed Conor. And you’re right. I still have no clue why you went berserk like this. But Conor keeps asking me to talk to you about it. And now here we are.”

It’s too hard to explain. I don’t have the words. And I don’t think he will understand. But… there is no way out of this without coming clean.

I shoved my hand down my pants as a sharp pain pulsed in my palm. I flinched and searched for the reason. Blood dripped down my hand from the cut that happened when I fell off the porch.

“Woah, when did that happen?” Milo asked. But I hid my hand. “We have to clean that up.”

“No.”

“Why are you always so stubborn? If we leave it like that, it might get infected.”

“Not until I—“

I stood up to be able to fumble my phone out of my right pocket with my left hand, and Milo’s confused eyes followed my every move. I opened the photo app and scrolled to the picture I took yesterday. The one where I kissed Conor in front of my locker. I opened it, so it filled my whole screen, and held it under Milo’s nose.

He stared at it, not knowing what to think of it. His eyes darted across the screen.

“Is this… for real?”

“Yeah,” I said, hiding my eyes in my hand, so I wouldn’t have to see Milo’s reaction.

“You have to be kidding me!”

I shook my head. “I asked him yesterday if he wanted to be my boyfriend, and he said yes.”

“But… how?” His eyes wide open, he looked up at me, and that’s when it dawned on him. “So that’s what happened in that airport. I was wondering why Conor was so mysterious about it.”

I let myself fall next to him and held the phone tight in case I got a message or call from Conor. Not that that would happen. But I somehow wished it could.

The police car drove back down the street, and I was relieved they were gone. Or… are they searching for me now?

Milo’s gaze wandered into the distance of the night.

“So… you are into guys too?”

“I still can’t tell if it’s guys in general… or just Conor. But I’m definitely into him.”

Milo buried his face in his hands. He muttered something to himself as if debating what to do next. He shook his head and held his arms above it so it was now even deeper buried in his lap. His muscles tensed up as he glanced at me again.

“Then why did you do this shit?” Milo’s voice was shaking, honestly upset about this revelation. “Why did you have to out him and put yourself in the spot of the homophobic asshole?”

“Because I was stupid! And angry that Conor kept from me that he would leave me until it was too late.”

“He didn’t just leave you. He left all of us. And he kept talking about not wanting to go and coming back ever since.”

“But you guys kept in touch with him. I didn’t. I couldn’t. All I gained was being trapped with myself. And I hated it. I hated every second of not being with him, of not being with all of you guys. I fucking hated myself every second that I was awake.”

My hand was still facing up and filled with so much blood that it dripped onto the stone.

“But now that he was back in my life, I finally felt—“ A stream of tears kept me from talking. The thought of losing him again was unbearable. And I hated myself for running without talking to him, again causing so much trouble for everyone. I buried my face in my hands and tried to wipe my face dry, but no matter how long I did that, it stayed wet. The salty tears burned in the wound on my right hand.

“Fuck, Ash,” Milo placed his hand on my shoulder as if we still were friends and he cared about how I felt.

“I think… I’m just…,” I searched for words, not to explain to Milo what was happening inside me, but to get it finally out of there. “For a very long time, I thought I was unlovable because I made everyone around me miserable. And yet Conor loved me despite that. But thanks to myself, I didn’t only lose him. I lost you too. And it won't be long before Will and Leo will come to their senses as well. But this wasn’t what I wanted at all. Not back then, not now. I just wanted things to stay as they were… because everything was so perfect… we as a group were so fucking perfect… I fucking miss it. Yet, no matter how hard I try to put everything back together, it keeps crumbling like a sand castle.”

“Man,” Milo caressed my shoulder like true friends sometimes do, “your coping mechanisms are shit.”

All I could think about was how I wanted to go back and apologize to Conor, hear him out, and see what all this fuzz was about. But this chance seemed far away.

“I’m so sorry, Milo. For everything.”

Milo kept his hand on my shoulder, and it was almost relieving to hear him say, “I believe you.” His voice was soft and understanding yet determined. “And I accept your apology. Even when I’m unsure if we can simply return to things as they were.”

Was that it? Did I just apologize? And… did he just like that forgive me? Was it that easy? How? That’s what I was so fucking scared of the entire time? It was a relief and a burden at the same time.

“Come on. Let’s clean that wound before more of those tears get drowned there.” I looked at him, and he burst into a laugh. “And your face too, because there’s blood on it and you… kind of look like you killed someone.”

We walked up to his house, and he held his phone onto the lock. A key symbol appeared on the display, and a whirring sound, followed by a click, told us that the door was open.

Their house was even more spacious than ours. They had a vast lobby that could easily be used for a banquet. It had a wooden staircase on the back left that hid Milo’s Dad's office underneath, an open kitchen, and a formal living room to the left. As we entered, the lights automatically turned on.

“That’s new, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Dad had it installed after Mom left. It’s also voice controlled.” He raised his head into the air and, with a stern voice, yelled, “Lights, party mode.” The whole lobby turned into all colors of the rainbow. They slowly changed places, which was even more impressive than the balloons at Tristan’s house.

Milo pointed down the corridor to a small bathroom on the opposite side of his dad’s office.

“You go clean that up. I’ll get a band-aid and a bandage. Hard to tell what we need with all the blood,” he sprinted up the stairs. “And wash your face. I don’t want rumors about me beating you up floating around.”

I did as I was told and walked into the bathroom. The light also turned on automatically, and my very destroyed face looked back at me thanks to a round mirror over the sink. I had red blood spots everywhere. It almost appeared like war paint. It is kind of a war, isn’t it? A war against myself, the stupid thoughts in my head, and my talent to fuck things up.

I carefully let some tepid water run over my hand, which turned red as soon as it touched my skin. But as soon as the blood was wiped away, I could see that the cut wasn’t too deep, but it was running down almost the entire palm.

“This looks like a war zone,” Milo said as he appeared in the door frame. He leans over the sink and inspects my hand. “Nah, we have to use a bandage instead of a band-aid.”

“Since when do you know about this stuff?”

“Koa made me take a first responder course.”

I have no idea who Koa is and why he would make Milo attend it.

Milo shook his head and laughed as he took a towel and carefully dabbed it on my hand. “Fuck, I still can’t believe it. You and Conor. You, of all people.”

He grabbed the bandage and took it out of the plastic wrap. I had dropped my hand a bit, and he pulled it back up so it was closer to him.

“If I would have known that earlier… Do you want to know why I avoided any contact with you?”

I nodded and watched how he wrapped the white fabric around my palm.

“You singlehandedly destroyed every ounce of confidence any of us had. Your little escapade made it so hard for me to come clean with myself after that. I was so fucking afraid that… something similar would happen to me too, when I told people that… I’m gay too.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He’s also…? What are the odds of that happening? Three guys who are into guys in the same friend group?

“Shit. I didn’t…,” I accidentally pulled my hand back again. He groaned, and I immediately held it close enough to him so that he could finish. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He shrugged. “Now you know.”

“Do the others…?”

“Yes. Conor, Leo, Will, my mom… Oh, and Tristan.”

“Why the hell would you tell Tristan?”

“So he would get off my back and stop trying to get me involved with this TikTok girl.”

“I knew it! He asked you too?”

“Second time today, actually. That’s why I told him earlier. Guess it counts as a birthday present.” Milo laughed and finished the bandage with a small piece of tape.

“But why only those people?”

“Come on, Ash. Be realistic. There are so many people in this world who hate people like us, even in this country. Now think about wanting to turn pro in a sport like boxing with all the hyper-masculinity. Who would want to fight a gay guy?”

Shit. It’s probably the same with football, isn’t it?

“I had never thought about that.”

“I figured. But try walking hand in hand with him through town. I once saw guys kissing at a party. First, I envied them. I wanted to do the same thing with someone I liked. But then I saw how people looked at them with hate in their eyes.”

“They can’t hate me more than I hate myself if I don’t come clean about this.”

Milo laughed.

“That… could be true.”

For a moment, we glanced at each other with understanding smiles. It almost felt like things could be good between us too.

“I don’t know why. I was never afraid to tell the whole world. I was only afraid of how my friends and family would react,” I explained. My right hand pulsed heavily.

“The thing is, you don’t have to tell the whole world. But if your friends truly like you for who you are, you can tell them without being afraid of it.”

“I don’t like myself for being who I am.”

“Come on, Ash. Talking like that won’t do you any good.”

“Do you like me for who I am?”

He ran his hand over his face and sighed.

“This you, I like. And maybe I would have liked the Ash that outed Conor if I had known what was going on inside of you.” He let go of his face and glanced into the distance. “Instead of constantly looking back at what you did wrong, ask yourself what person you want to be. And then be that person.”

“Ever since I met Conor, I have tried exactly that, but… I feel like I’m stuck with myself.”

“Koa once explained it to me like this: Every second in the ring, you have the choice of what to do next. Sometimes you decide right, sometimes wrong. But don’t look back. Always look at what’s next and how you can right your wrongs. The more I thought about this, the more I understood how this applies to everything in life.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew he was right about that. If I decide to be honest, I can be honest. There is a chance to be that person. I guess that’s also how he could accept my apology so quickly. Why is everyone so much better at life than me?

“You know, I understand how things get you angry all the time. I think that’s one of the reasons I started boxing. But even when you’re angry, you still have a choice.”

“What you say makes an awful lot of sense.”

“That’s because Koa is brilliant.”

“I have to ask.” Because hearing this name without having any idea who gave Milo all those revelations about life started to irritate me. “Who is Koa?”

“Oh, guess we haven’t talked in a while, huh? He’s my boxing trainer.”

I nodded. And then Milo nodded. And we stood there in the bathroom for Milo’s Dad's clients like two idiots talking about the core essence of life as if we understood a thing.

“What now?” I asked because I didn’t have an answer.

“Now you tell me what the fuck happened at the party?" Milo said and leaned onto the doorframe, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I still have to decide if I should let you back near Conor or not.”

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t keep running away from that any longer. I have to face this situation as well.

“Leo asked Conor if he solved the problems he had with his boyfriend when he was last here.”

“And?”

“I met him at the airport on his way back in December! This was the first time we kissed. He didn’t tell me that he had a boyfriend. I just found out about that today. And now… I feel like I am at fault for their breaking up. Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“I impeded Conor from being happy with a guy who lives way closer to him or….”

“Or?”

“Maybe he has two strings to his bow….”

Milo took a deep breath.

“Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Us being boyfriends sounds ridiculous. We live two thousand and five hundred miles apart, and this won’t change soon.”

Milo took another deep breath.

“I don’t know if I am the right person to advise you on relationship-related topics, given that I never had one. What I know is that Conor is the most honest person I have ever met. So dating two guys sounds like something that he would never do.”

“I know. But my brain keeps making up all these pictures of him kissing some other dude….”

“Honestly, I think you should start talking more about what goes on in your head. And by that, I mean you should talk to Conor about that. Or at least a shrink.”

“Do you know anything about Conor and… this boyfriend?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s not my place to tell you.”

Milo turned toward the door.

“Come on, let’s go back and do some damage control. I’ll text Tristan that we’re coming back, and you’re ready to apologize to him.”