One summer, the boredom overtook them so badly they decided to try camping, even though they had no real affinity for camping activities. Tate cried the one and only time they went fishing, because they actually managed to catch something and were faced with the gruesome reality of the food chain.

     They liked camping in the sense that it gave them privacy and autonomy and the freedom they so desperately looked for at fifteen. Their only source of income was from doing odd jobs and chores around their homes. It took them nearly a month to save enough to buy a flimsy tent and some mediocre sleeping bags before they toted them to their lake.

     Tate had flipped through the manual several times but Javi was bent set on pitching the tent off of sheer perseverance alone. "I mean," he kept saying. "It's gotta be this way."

     It took them several tries before they finally had the thing put together and planted, mostly stable, in the ground. The lake was, at some point, a very public spot but with the addition of a town pool, most people spent their time there. It still had some old picnic tables remaining and an outdoor grill that wasn't at all maintained.

     The boys had bought hotdogs with them, that Javi threw on the grill and promptly burned. Tate ate three like they were the world's best hotdogs, dripping ketchup and mustard down his chin. Javi watched him, grinning, and then gestured to his chin. "You got some," he said motioning around his chin.

     Tate was always a messy eater, scarfing down food like he was perpetually in a state of starvation. He used the back of his hand to wipe his chin but only made it worse, smearing the ketchup up towards his cheek. Javi grabbed a napkin and leaned over the table towards him.

     "Come here," he said and gently wiped it away.

     Flushing, Tate mumbled a thanks.

     "You think it's gonna rain tonight?" Javi asked looking up at the sky. If he thought Tate's reaction was strange he wasn't giving it away.

     "No, it looks clear to me," Tate said and he couldn't have been further from right.

     The storm came quick, dropping sheets of rain on them, leaving them drenched in seconds. They didn't mind at first, laughing through their blurred vision. Javi's hair was long and it felt getting flattened across his forehead, blocking his eyes. He'd push it back and the rain would smooth it back down.

     "Told you to get a haircut!" Tate cried over the roar of the storm.

     "You love my hair," Javi retorted with a cheeky grin.

     Tate shook his head, his hair swinging like a wet dog. They were still in their bathing suits so they ran around in the rain, splashing through the growing puddles. It was fun at first but the temperature dropped quickly and the rain became aggressively cold, so they retreated into their tent.

     Javi grabbed his towel, drying his hair out and then patting down his chest. He was still laughing as he did. Summer storms had a way of making nothing feel real, like they were now in an alternate reality.

     "So much for that," he said.

    Tate looked stressed, poking at the wall of their tent as the wind shook it. "Should we head home?"

     "No, we're fine," Javi insisted.

     "It's going to be cold," Tate had responded which meant he was already cold. Javi rifled through his bag and pulled out his hoodie, tossing it at Tate. "What about you?"

     "I'm hot blooded," Javi responded.

     "Hot blooded my ass," Tate said grinning at Javi. He slipped into his sweatshirt like it was a second skin. The arms were long on him but he happily tucked his hands inside, teeth chattering.

     "We should take these suits off," Javi said. "They're wet. It's just going to make us colder."

     "Thought you were hot blooded," Tate teased.

     "I was trying to be nice. Make you colder."

     "You're cold, just admit it."

     "No, I'm fine. It's just uncomfortable sitting in these, that's all."

     "Oh yeah uncomfortable?" Tate mocked. "Well then take em off."

     "You take yours off."

     Javi wasn't sure when it happened, when changing in front of Tate got so heavy. Like this thing he had to be mindful of. But it had, a transition that occurred between night and day, that moment where the sun and moon align and it's both the beginning and the end of something.

     Tate jutted his chin at him. "Alright, well turn around then."

     Javi laughed. "I've seen everything already, Tate."

     "Whatever, I want some privacy."

     "Fine, fine," Javi said raising his hands placatingly. He laid down on his sleeping bag, turning to face the wall of the tent. He listened, acutely aware of the sounds, of Tate shedding his bottoms and pulling on new ones. He had seen it all before but it'd been a while and if Tate's progression through puberty was anywhere near the same as Javi's a lot had changed.

     "You can go now," Tate said so Javi sat up. Tate was facing the way, wearing plaid pajama pants and Javi's sweatshirt.

     Javi was not as quick with his undressing, staring at Tate's back the whole time. Tugging his trunks over his knees, down his shins. Grabbing sweatpants and pulling them on even slower. He wanted Tate to peak but he didn't.

     He crawled into his sleeping bag, and leaned into Tate, saying. "You can turn over now."

     Tate was quick to flip back over and slip into his sleeping bag, still shivering. "You sure you don't want this back?" he asked tilting his chin into the neckline.

     Javi shook his head, shifting onto his back so he could stare up at their tent. It was a sheer red, and he could see the shadow of the rain dripping down the sides, making a soft noise with each drop. It was comforting. Javi loved being outside. Tate did, too, he just wasn't very suited for it.

     "Do you ever think," Javi posed thoughtfully. "That like none of this matters and we're just like so minuscule in the grand scheme?"

     Tate laughed but Javi was being serious. "Not really. Do you?"

     "All the time," Javi admitted.

     "I try not to play into existentialism. I prefer to just be," Tate responded, just as serious as Javi was. "You don't have to think about everything, you know."

     Javi knew Tate was still looking at him, and he didn't want to turn and let him see how much these thoughts pained him. "If I don't then who will?" he asked softly.

     "Uh, probably someone who gets paid to think it," Tate said laughing again. "Someone with some good health insurance. They'll need a therapist on retainer."

     "You think I need a therapist?" Javi asked, trying so desperately to mask the hurt in his voice.

     "No," Tate said quickly. "No, I mean, if you thought about this all the time I think you would. It would be depressing. But. You don't think about it all the time?"

    Javi didn't move an inch. His expression remained flat, even though Tate couldn't see him. "No," he said simply and then he did turn over, his eyes wildly bright and playful. "I think about Kawasaki's supercharged Ninja all the time."

     Tate rolled his eyes but there was relief on his face. "That things a death trap!"

     They both had laughed and it was an agreement not to talk about the earlier thing again. Javi was fine. And if he wasn't, they were both fully prepared to pretend he was.

     "You're crazy, Javi," Tate said smiling and shaking his head. Crazy but also his best friend. His best friend through all of boyhood. The person who knew the most about him. The thought often shook him, like an earthquake that started in his soul and made its way through every one of his organs.

     Javi shrugged. "Girls like crazy."

     "Oh do they now?" Tate asked rhetorically. 

     Girls liked Javi not because he was crazy but because he was good looking. Tall and lean with sharp muscles in his arms and visible abs, yeah all Javi had to do was take his shirt off to garner attention. Tate watched the way upperclassmen fawned over him. He also watched the way Javi didn't seem to care.

     "Jessi sure does," he said his tone all insinuation.

     "Oh you're with Jessi now?"

     He laughed. "She wishes. She's a bad kisser."

     Tate refrained from flailing, doing his best to keep his tone neutral when he asked, "You kissed her?"

     Javi nodded, his tone disinterested when he responded, "Yeah. Yesterday afternoon she asked me to walk her home from the pool."

     Tate was fuming but also reeling. Yesterday afternoon? He wondered why he hadn't been there and then remembered his mom and her damn piano lessons. She worked the evening shift on Tuesdays so he practiced with her during the day.

     "So that's what you were doing yesterday?" Tate said unable to keep the jealousy out of his tone. "Jessi?"

     "I was not doing Jessi," he responded with a laugh. "She kissed me. I let her."

     "You just let people kiss you?"

     "A pretty girl, wouldn't you?" Javi asked, eyes darting along Tate's face. Tate's expression was tight, his lips nearly pursed into a pout. Javi asked again, insisting, "Wouldn't you?"

     "I don't know, Jav," Tate said quickly. "I think it's about more than just being pretty."

     "Well of course there's more. You don't want to just date someone for their looks. But kissing pretty people is nice." Javi lifted the one shoulder he was leaning on noncommittally. He didn't think it was that deep.

     Tate took a loud breath and then asked rather abruptly, "Have you ever thought about kissing a boy?"

     Javi stilled, not so much shocked by the idea but that Tate was asking. That Tate was curious. He frowned, thinking and then said, unsurely, "No, not really."

     "Is it no or is it not really?"

     Javi was suddenly sweating profusely and had to kick off his sleeping bag, shoving it down him like he was shedding skin. He felt like he was on trial for murder, but he didn't know who's. "Why are you asking me that, Tate?"

     Javi looked at him harshly, eyes darting along his face. Tate was quiet, had gone still, but his face was flushed. His hair had dried in messy, stringy waves falling into his face. 

     Javi thought he looked good, in a boyish way, that he'd probably grow out of but even if he didn't, he didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing. Javi was obviously attractive, but Tate was unsuspecting. In certain lights or with certain smiles, he could make you speechless. He just didn't know it.

     And because he didn't know it, he didn't wield it. Not like Javi, who flirted all the time, was always flirting with people.

     Tate glanced away, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. Javi had an idea or two where this was going. Finally Tate asked, "Have you ever thought about kissing me?"

     Javi thought there were two ways this could go. He could very easily lie, but he was afraid he might destroy something if he did. He was afraid he might destroy something if he didn't.

     His mother always said tell the truth and shame the devil. He'd broken one of her antique dishes one — he was playing a prank on Tate at the time and was hiding one of his baseball cards in the china cabinet when a dish shifted and fell out. He didn't know what to do so he buried the pieces in her garden.

     When his mother asked him what happened, he didn't want to tell her the truth but he also had no skill in lying. That developed later. She said, tell the truth, shame the devil.

     And he never understood that saying until now, lying across from Tate, looking in his big brown eyes, opening his mouth to say, "Yeah, yeah I've thought about kissing you."

     What a way to shame the devil.