Free Spontaneous by Aaron Starmer

and Brian’s. The rumors about Katelyn had already been spreading by the time the town hall started, and within a few hours after it, the fishnet picture of Brian was trending.
    Never mind that the picture was taken by his mom one innocent Saturday morning last spring when Brian was thinking about auditioning for the community theater’s production of
Hedwig
. Never mind that even if Katelyn was gay and even if Brian wasgay—and part of me kinda hoped that he was after that bus kiss snub—there’s nothing about being gay that makes a person more combustible. Most sane and reasonable people realize this.
    Alas, the world is neither sane nor reasonable, especially when ad-click revenue comes into play. Only the most callous and cynical “journalists” were trotting out link-bait like A NEW GAY PLAGUE ? But that didn’t mean others weren’t implying the same thing.
    I tried to stay away from all that noise, but what was there left for a girl to do? There was no school on the horizon, and Tess could only afford so much gas, and Dylan . . .

again, sorry
    I ’ve been a cagey little weasel, haven’t I? You’re probably wondering what happened after that kiss in the woods, aren’t you? Did Dylan throw me down on the moss and ravage me? Are our clothes still hanging from the trees? Does the moon blush, thinking of the raw carnality she witnessed?
    Sorry to disappoint, but it was only kissing and petting, but kissing and petting aren’t nothing. Especially when helicopters show up and start stabbing the woods around the school with spotlights. Kissing and petting feel downright illegal at that point. And trust me, it’s always best to be fully clothed when you run out of the woods and find your peers huddled up and asking each other, “Again? Really? Again?”
    Really. Again.
    The police couldn’t round up and interview everyone at the football game. They certainly couldn’t rope off the scene. So when Joe Dalton spotted me, he rushed over and said, “We’rehightailing it out of here before shit goes crazy. Jenna’s pulling the car around to Rumson Road and we’re heading to Laura’s house to get blind. You in?”
    â€œWho’s gonna be there?” I asked, because guest lists are important when blindness comes into play.
    â€œMe, Jenna, Laura, Holly, Greer, and Rasheed,” Joe said.
    A more-than-acceptable roster, so I turned to Dylan and asked, “Do we join them?”
    It was like Joe didn’t even notice Dylan until I addressed him, like Dylan was some mythical beast that only materialized when its name was spoken. “Oh, hey, man,” Joe said. “Sure. You should come too.”
    Dylan pursed his lips for a few seconds, then replied, “Nah. Go on ahead. Get somewhere safe. I’m going to stick around here for a while.”
    I was in a bit of a pickle. I wanted to be with Dylan but I wanted to leave. The buzz of the night was wearing off and I was sinking back into the sludge of awareness.
    Really? Again?
    â€œCome on,” I said. “Nothing good will come out of staying here.”
    â€œHave fun,” Dylan said, and before I could object, he kissed me on the cheek and jogged away, in the direction of the flashing lights.
    I could have chased after him, I guess, but I didn’t want to. He had left at the exact right moment, leaving me in a state of anxious anticipation. At Laura’s house, all I needed was some gin and SunnyD to pick the buzz back up, and while everyone was trying to piece together what happened on the field, I wasmusing about what might happen next with me and Dylan.
    What happened next was a text, arriving at nine a.m., as I burrowed under a blanket on the living room couch. It read:
    Everything,
    I wrote back immediately.
    Me: Deep.
    Him: I meant that last night I felt everything
.
    Me: Not every THING. Next time. Maybe.
    Him: When’s next time?
    Me: