7 Days at the Hot Corner Read Online Free PDF Page A

girl in my whole life, that I’ve never talked about getting laid, that I’ve always changed the subject every time we even got close to talking about sex?”
    I said, “I guess, yeah, but I thought you were just … I don’t know … shy or something.”
    Travis said, “Do I seem shy at any other times?”
    I answered, “I don’t know.... No, I guess not.”
    â€œI’m not shy, Scott; I’m gay,” Travis said.
    I asked, “How long have you known this about yourself?”
    Travis said, “Since I was, like, six or seven maybe.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous,” I said. “We never even thought about sex back then.” Even as I spoke, I knew I was lying. The truth is that when it comes to sex, I’ve always thought about it. I fantasized about girls as early as second grade. So was Travis fantasizing about guys back then—about me , even when we were that little? Does he fantasize about me now?
    â€œI can’t speak for straight people,” Travis said softly, “but I’ve always known I was different. It’s just the way I am. I tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but for as long as I’ve thought about sex, I’ve known it.”
    I thought, So much for truth and honesty between best friends. But I’ll admit it: If I had that kind of secret, I’d probably struggle with talking about it too; in fact I’m not sure I’d ever tell anybody!
    â€œWhy?” I asked. “I mean, do you know why you’re gay?”
    â€œNo,” Travis said. “It’s just the way it is, who I’m attracted to. I couldn’t change it even if I wanted to, which I used to want.” He paused a moment, then looked at me and spoke clearly. “But not anymore.”
    We just sat there.
    I didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know what he wanted or needed from me.
    Travis didn’t say anything either.
    And that was the moment I suddenly remembered the blood all over my hands that day at the batting cages. I tried not to let Travis see my panic, but I’m sure I turned white. I felt a sudden rush of fear, real fear, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It was terrible, like getting the wind knocked out of you and almost passing out: My chest ached, my hands quivered.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Travis asked. “You look sick.”
    â€œI’m fine,” I answered, trying to catch my breath.
    My stomach felt weak and my skin tingled like a thousand little needles were pressing into me all at once. All I could think about was that day at the batting cages, Travis’s blood all over my hands. Could Travis have AIDS? Could he have had AIDS back then? Isn’t that a huge risk for gay guys? I knew that not all gay people automatically get the disease—I mean, I’m not that stupid. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Travis was gay and I’d had his blood on me.
    I just blurted out, “Do you have safe sex? … Could I have AIDS?”
    Travis looked at me like I’d just kicked him in his stomach. He said, “What do you mean? You and I never had sex.”
    Just hearing him say it made me sick. “Yeah, of course not, I know we didn’t, but what about that day you bled all over me at Spencer’s Batting Cages?”
    At first Travis looked confused, but then he remembered. “That was way last winter.”
    I asked, “So I’m safe, then?”
    Travis, actually sounding upset, asked, “You think I wouldn’t mention something to you if I thought there was any risk?”
    â€œI-I …” I stuttered. “I don’t know what you’d do anymore. I mean, I thought I knew you, but obviously …” I could tell by the look on Trav’s face that each word I spoke was making things worse, so I didn’t even finish my sentence.
    But he was already mad. “What kind of friend do you