Free You and Me and Him by Kris Dinnison Page A

beautiful and popular girls at Cedar Ridge to pursue Tom? But Kayla didn’t seem to need much encouragement. Whatever. Hanging out with Kayla has been nice, but I’ve had my quota of female bonding for now.
    “I gotta go, Kayla. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn and go through the door and out into the brisk fall night. Being with Kayla was easier, more familiar, than I expected. And it was nice to talk to a girl for a change. There has been entirely too much testosterone in my life lately.

Chapter 10
    Since Tom hasn’t actually spent any time in Seattle, Nash is planning a dawn-until-dark sort of excursion. All the pieces of Nash’s itinerary are falling into place. As chauffeur, I have no say in where we go, but I don’t mind. We are finalizing plans at lunch on Friday when Cece comes by.
    She rests her lunch box on the table but seems unsure about actually sitting down. “So, what are you all doing for the long weekend?”
    I look sideways at Nash and Tom. Monday is their deal, so I know I can’t invite Cece.
    “The usual—you know.” Nash fidgets, eyes on his sandwich. “How about you?”
    “Mostly homework,” she says. Cece’s the one fidgeting now. “But I have tickets to the modernist exhibit at the art museum in Seattle. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me on Monday, Nash?” Cece pushes this last bit out of her mouth in one quick rush, so quickly in fact that it takes us a few seconds to catch up with her. Cece’s whole face flushes bright red as she waits for his answer.
    I marvel at her courage and blind persistence. Tom and I both look at Nash.
    “You have tickets for that? I have been dying to go,” Nash says.
    “My mom got them for me.” Cece still isn’t meeting Nash’s eyes. “I figured you’d be the perfect person to go with. You know so much about art.”
    “There’s supposed to be a Warhol and a Pollock. I would do anything to see that.”
    Cece’s face breaks into a wide smile. “Great. We can go early and—”
    “But I can’t Monday.”
    Cece’s features fall back into a disappointment that’s hard for me to look at.
    Tom catches my eye, and I can see he feels the same way.
    “Oh, okay,” she says. “I’ll . . . that’s fine. Thanks.” She turns to walk away.
    “Eat lunch with us,” Nash says, throwing her a bone.
    She turns toward us. Her smile is back, although not as wide as it was a moment before. She slides into a seat next to Tom, and we spend the rest of lunch talking about what animals our teachers would be if they were animals, smoothing over Cece’s hurt feelings. Just before the bell rings, Nash presents Cece with a sketch he did while we were talking. It’s Cece, arm outstretched, with a snowy owl perched on her arm.
    “You’d be an owl,” Nash says. “Get it? Because you’re so smart.”
    Cece takes the sketch, holding it like he’s just presented her with a diamond. “Thank you, Nash. It’s beautiful.”

    Tom asks about it while we’re walking to biology. “So Cece?”
    I nod. “Cece has a mad crush on Nash. For, like, two years.”
    “And does she know . . . ?” Tom says.
    “Does she know what?”
    “That he’s gay?”
    I look at Tom. This is the closest we’ve gotten to this topic, and I want to just ask Tom if he likes guys, likes Nash in particular. But I’m also worried about his answer and about finding out something that will burst Nash’s bubble. I want us all to be able to enjoy the not-knowing just a little bit longer. “She does and she doesn’t,” I say. “She knows, but that doesn’t keep her from liking him.”
    “Ouch,” Tom says. “Rough.”
    “Yeah. I never know what to say. Do I do the tough love thing and tell her, ‘Nash will never like you that way’? Or do I let her like him and wait for her to figure it out on her own? A day like today, I feel like I should slap her upside the head. Keep her from humiliating herself.” We walk in silence for a bit before Tom speaks.
    “I don’t