When I picked up Thad, I was insistent that we eat before we go to the stadium, because stadium food prices were ridiculous.

“You ever been to In-and-Out?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then it’s time to experience some California culture, my friend.”

We got burgers, then ate them in the car as I tried to navigate the nightmare that was the traffic around the Dodgers stadium.

“What do you think?” I asked him.

“It’s good. I’m surprised you people eat burgers out there. I was thinkin’ you were only allowed salads and bottled water.”

I laughed. “We’d probably be better off.”

“I’ve got a job workin’ at one of those fast casual salad places.”

“Oh? How’s that been?”

“It’s fine. Everyone’s real nice. I’m the only white kid though, so everyone speaks Spanish. I guess I’ll have to learn it.”

“If you can figure out trig and chemistry, Spanish shouldn’t be a big deal.” Just then, someone from the left lane veered in front of me, cutting me off so sharply that I had to kick the brake. “Motherfucker! Learn how to fucking drive, moron!”

“Do all Californians drive like you?”

“Of course. What do Alabam…anians… drive like?”

“Alabamians. And they drive like Californians, but with way more guns in the back seat.”

“Oh man. That’s one state you won’t catch my gay ass in.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty awful.”

I laughed. “Not even gonna try to defend it?”

“Nope. All I will defend is the food. And the beaches.”

By some miracle, we made it to a parking lot located far enough out that we only had to pay five dollars at the gate. The dude taking our money seemed strung out on something, but as long as no one stole the wheels off my car, he could smoke whatever he wanted. Thad pulled a baseball cap out of his backpack and pushed it down over his pale hair, then sprayed some sunscreen onto his hands so he could rub it over his face and arms.

“It’s going to be dark in two hours, Thad.”

“It takes me about five minutes to boil,” Thad explained, lathering up the back of his neck. “Want some?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“It’s your skin.” He patted his cheeks. “This skin is going to be pristine by the time I’m sixty.”

“I’ll just get Botox like everyone else, thanks.”

Thad made a face. “No thank you. Botox looks awful. I used to watch that show Botched—have you seen it?”

“Yeah.” I even recognized one of the people on it, only because he was an acquaintance of an acquaintance that everyone agreed had serious body image issues. Even though everyone in LA knew at least one person who showed up on TV, it freaked me out to be two degrees of separation away from people on a trashy reality show.

“I love all those medical shows, even if they’re terrible. Anyway, it’s scared me off pretty much all plastic surgery.”

“Were you planning on getting some?” I asked with a half smile.

“I dunno, I’d like to get rid of this.” He pointed to the half-dollar-sized red splotch on his chin.

“Is that… sorry if this is rude, but is that a birthmark?”

“Yeah.” Thad pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on, removing his regular glasses and hanging them on the collar of his T-shirt. “It’s a pain. Sometimes I talk to people and I feel them just starin’ at my chin.”

I felt a jolt of anger on Thad’s behalf, because he didn’t deserve that shit. Maybe it felt a little personal, too, because I’d suffered from acne since puberty, and there were days I felt so gross that even stepping outside had me wondering if everyone was gaping at me in disgust. As a teenager, I’d caked on foundation, which made me attractive to bullies in that I was a boy with acne and a boy who wore make-up. I wasn’t expecting to feel protective over Thad because I barely knew him, but here I was, wanting to punch anyone who looked at him wrong.

“Those people can suck it,” I muttered. “You shouldn’t have to change your face because people are assholes.”

Thad snorted. “Thanks for the support.”

The place was packed, but I wasn’t sure what to judge the current crowds against, considering I’d never been to a Dodgers game. There were a lot of families but also groups of jock-types who spoke too loudly and had little consideration for those around them. I tried my best to stay out of their way, because no matter how much I enjoyed the porn they were in, I hadn’t any interest in dealing with those guys in real life.

Our seats were pretty far up in the stands, and I had to brave the steep, narrow staircases in order to reach them. We also had to avoid the swinging elbows of anyone heading down the steps or shifting in their aisle seat. I was thankful to have Thad behind me, in case I took a wrong step. He was solid enough that my weight wouldn’t knock him down all the way down to the level below.

By the time we got situated, the PA system crackled and began to make pre-game announcements. As Thad craned his neck to see the field below, I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen—a text from Duncan.

U free tonight?

Not really, I texted back. Out with friends.

What about later? he responded immediately.

How late you up?

As late as you need me to be.

This probably meant he was in a horny mood but too lazy to leave the apartment and find someone else to dick down. I wanted to tell him to piss off, but I also felt the usual tingle of excitement at the prospect of meeting up.

I don’t know what time I’ll be done, I texted. I’ll let you know when I am.

He didn’t reply, so I figured he understood and agreed.

“You okay?” Thad asked, speaking so suddenly that I jolted in shock.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“It’s just that you’re frownin’ very hard at your phone.”

I slid my phone into my back pocket. “No, it’s fine. I’m just—ugh. There’s this guy… nevermind. It’s not important.”

“A guy you’re datin’?”

“Sort of. It’s kinda casual.”

“Oh.”

I surveyed Thad’s expression. So far I hadn’t been terribly explicit about dating and fucking men because I hadn’t yet sussed out his feelings on the matter. He was a country boy from Alabama, so I made my assumptions. But he’d never given me any indication he was homophobic. It was another way he surprised me.

“So you don’t have a boyfriend or anythin’,” Thad said.

“No. I was with a guy earlier this year but… that didn’t work out. He’d told me he was clean but I found cocaine in his bathroom, and I have zero tolerance for that.”

“Oh, wow.”

“It was also very stupid of me to date him at all, because we dated back when I was in high school, and I knew what he was like. But I guess I was desperate and vulnerable enough to give him another shot. Except this time I was clean, and he wasn’t.”

I hadn’t planned on admitting to Thad that I’d gotten back with my ex and that I’d been a cocaine addict in high school, but he had a very open and non-judgmental face.

When Thad didn’t say anything, I clarified with a stupid, “I used to snort a lot of coke in high school. Well, I smoked a lot of pot and drank too much, but I didn’t go to rehab for that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Thad said, a reaction no teenager I’d ever met would have to gossip so juicy.

“I know I look like such an upstanding citizen and everything, so try to contain your shock,” I joked, sliding open the drawstring backpack I’d brought to grab my bottle of water inside.

“You’re clean now though?”

“Yeah. I’ve been clean since I was 18. It’s a long ass story. We probably shouldn’t get into it. But this gives me the authority to tell you to stay in school and away from drugs. You hear me? You don’t want to end up like me, working at a liquor store and driving drunk assholes around for petty cash.”

“Workin’ at a liquor store is providin’ a vital service to the community,” Thad replied, which made me laugh.

“I mean, if you wanna put it that way, sure, I’m living the dream.”

Thad didn’t respond, and he turned back to the field for a minute. I could tell he was thinking, because his brow was low over his eyes and his lips were slightly pursed. I resisted the urge to check my phone again.

“You got any girlfriend back home?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “In Alabama?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

Thad glanced back at me with a look of vague amusement. “No.”

I shrugged. It was worth asking, because while I was pretty sure Thad was straight, I didn’t like to assume too much.

“I had two friends, but we weren’t super close. So it wasn’t too hard to leave.”

“That’s… good, I guess. Hopefully you make lots of friends here. You’ll definitely have more people to choose from. And I don’t know about Alabama girls, but I know that there are a slew of hot California girls who want to marry a doctor.” I waggled my eyebrows, and Thad chuckled.

“I ain’t becoming a doctor because I want to marry a hot California girl.”

“It’s a perk though.” I knocked his arm with my water bottle. “You know, back in high school, I nearly failed my English class because we had to write an essay about our dream job, and I wrote about how I planned to marry a rich doctor and be his boy toy.”

Thad snorted. “You’re jokin’.”

“Nope. Fortunately my teacher let me rewrite it, so I made up some bullshit about wanting to be a music producer.” I rolled my eyes. “I had to job shadow this guy who worked on alt rock records, and I was such a whiny shit the whole time. God. I was the worst at that age.”

“What is your dream job?”

“Working at a liquor store and telling 18-year-olds to find an older step-brother to buy them booze when they give me shitty fake IDs.”

“I’m serious, Justin.”

I shrugged, slumping lower in my seat. “Who the hell knows. I do not enjoy doing anything lucrative, and I fucked up my chances of ever getting into college by being a coked up delinquent. So I’ll stick to my strengths, which involve chastising underage idiots and sitting in traffic while a couple makes out in my back seat.”

Thad didn’t have a prepared response, which was probably a good thing, because I’d already managed to depress myself and I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I truly hated the ‘what do you plan on doing with your life’ talk, because it always ended with the conclusion that I didn’t have a plan for anything. I envied Thad for his vision. If I’d had that same determination at his age, I’d have graduated from college by now. I’d probably be working in some boring cubicle, but at least I’d be making enough money to afford more than thirty dollars worth of groceries every week.

“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to think about it,” Thad finally said.

“Yeah, sure. Hey, are they starting the game now?”

A few guys in baseball uniforms jogged out onto the field, and the stands erupted in applause. I was never so glad to see a baseball game begin, because it took Thad’s attention away from me. I checked my phone, which of course had no new texts for me.

“Hey Thad, wanna take a selfie with me?” I asked.

“Sure!”

Thad leaned in over my shoulder, and I twisted around so that you could see the baseball field behind us. After snapping a few pictures, I turned back to the field and browsed through what I’d taken. It was better than watching the field, where nothing exciting was happening.

I threw a filter on it, captioned it with “Apparently the Dodgers are a baseball team?????”, and searched for Thad on Facebook so that I could tag him. But he told me he wasn’t on Facebook, so I had to post the picture without his name on it.

Five minutes later, the picture received a comment from Duncan.

Who’s that very white child you’re with??

I thought of a few nasty responses I could provide him, because his comment sat on the edge between funny and rude. It wasn’t shocking, because he had a tendency to be vaguely insulting sometimes—not enough to offend you outright, but enough to raise your hackles. Whenever I got snippy, he then claimed I had no sense of humor, or that I was taking something too personally.

In the end, I decided not to answer at all.

Let Duncan stew over it and wonder what I was up to. It was good payback.