Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 78

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 78

Max spoke slowly with all the sarcasm of a teen. “Well, the cancelation was reported in Variety,
The Hollywood Reporter, Time…”
“No, I mean how did you know I don’t have a new job?”
“Uh, because if you had a new job you wouldn’t be hanging out here for, like, weeks? You’d be
sitting in an airless room with seven other white guys, one girl, and one person of color trying to
come up with new ways to make some famous white guy sound funnier than he is.”
“Okay.” Eli pursed his lips. “Scathing indictment of the industry, but not untrue.” He leaned back
in his chair and put his fists to his eyes with a loud groan. “For the record, I never lied to my
mom and dad. I… let them believe what they wanted to believe.”
Max took a seat in one of the empty patio chairs, perching on it like a gargoyle. “Isn’t that just a
lie of omission?”
“Stop learning big words and using them against me,” Eli said, letting his hands fall away.
“Anyway, that’s not even the part Mom’s upset about. She wanted me to stay here with her
indefinitely, and I—” He gave a full-body shiver. “It’s like my worst nightmare, having to come
back here with my tail between my legs.”
“Hey,” Max said mildly, “I get it. Some of us are living the nightmare on the daily.”
“Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to rub it in your face.” The survivor’s guilt was real. Eli glanced over at
Max. He didn’t want to be pushy, but he knew he would have traded an arm and a leg for
someone to confide in when he was Max’s age. “You know, you can always talk to me. If you
want. I know this place—it’s hard. Sometimes. For certain people.” Max’s eyebrows rose one
inch, and Eli started to babble. “Not that I’m saying you’re certain people! But if you were, or if
you think you might be—”
“Eli, I’ve been out since I was fifteen,” Max said.
He sat up straight with a jolt. “What? Really? Fif—? What?”
“Yeah, I told my friends years ago I was genderqueer. Mom and Dad were later, but they’re chill.
They don’t really get it, but…” Max shrugged. “Who does?”

-- 182 of 228 --

Eli felt a million years old. At fifteen, he hadn’t even known what gender was, let alone—well,
anything useful. “Uh, and do you have pronouns? Fuck, of course you have pronouns. Unless
you don’t! That’s also cool.”