“Now,” said Jack. “I asked you down here to tell you I know you’re gay. And so am I. I want to be friends with you, Laura.” She glanced up at him, and found that he was embarrassed, for all the liquid courage he was consuming, and it was hard for him to talk. “Damn it,” he said. “I’m so used to talking like an idiot, I can’t say what I mean anymore. I—I wanted to tell you—to warn you, Laura—I was in the situation you’re in now. Once. Long ago. I fell for a roommate of mine, I didn’t think he knew anything either. I didn’t see how it was possible. I was so damn careful. I never said anything, I never _did_ anything. Jesus Christ, I even avoided the guy. I went out of my way to avoid him. But I was nuts about him, Laura. I wanted him so bad it hurt. I’d lie there in the dark and tell myself, ‘You can’t have him, you can’t have him’ over and over. I’d say, ‘Who the hell do you think you are? If you were the prettiest boy on earth he wouldn’t look twice. And, Mann, you aren’t the prettiest boy on earth. You’re the ugliest.’ Whenever we talked late at night, whenever we went anywhere together, whenever we touched I used to burn up inside, I used to die of it. I wanted to kiss him, feel him all over, just hold him. God, it killed me! But I never let on. Never. And one day—this’ll give you an idea of what to expect, Mother—one day after all this noble chastity and virtue and self-denial crap I was going through, he came up to me and said, ‘Jack, I hate to say this, but I’m moving out.’” “Why?” Laura asked softly, her forehead wrinkled with sympathy. “Because I was gay. He didn’t say it that way, of course. He didn’t say, ‘Because you’re queer, you poor bastard. I’m sorry for you but I can’t take it any more.’ I could have stood that. But he just handed me a lot of bull.” Laura felt like crying again. But she only said, “Isn’t that something to be grateful for? He tried, anyway.” “Yeah. He tried.” He said it so acidly that Laura was afraid to say any more. “There’ve been a lot since Joe,” he said, after a while. “Just like there’ll be a lot for you after Marcie.” Laura tried to protest but he waved her down. “I know, I know, you’re going to keep hands off. You’re going to spend your whole life ignoring sex, ignoring what you are. Denying that you want it, running away from it. I was going to, too. That was twenty-five years ago.” “Twenty-five years ago!” Laura stared at him. “How old are you, Jack?” “Forty-two. Surprised?” He smiled at her gaping astonishment. “I thought you were maybe five years older than I am. Twenty-five or so. You _can’t_ be forty-two.” “That’s what I keep telling myself. I can’t be. But I sure as hell am.” “I don’t believe it.” He grinned. “Good,” he said. “I like to fool people.” “Why?” It seemed crazy. “What does a man care how young he looks? I thought that was for women,” Laura said.