1 Chapter 1

It had been a quiet evening, and after my friend Micajah left, I became nostalgic. I poured myself a snifter of brandy—my second of the night, but who was counting?—took down one of my college yearbooks, and thumbed through the pages until I found the photo I was looking for—myself and my two best friends taken the Halloween of Ron’s and my sophomore year. No one called us the Three Musketeers, but that was what we’d pretty much been back then. Our names were beneath the photo: Leo Rossi, Ron Edgerly, Micajah Autry. Ron insisted on calling his boyfriend “Cage,” and Micajah tolerated it with his usual good humor, whereas I called him by his given name, although that was mostly to tease Ron.

Ron stood between us in that photo, dressed in tennis whites. He’d been a good player back then, but he’d done it for his parents, not himself, and hadn’t picked up a racket in the years since we’d graduated, at least not during the time we’d all roomed together.

I stood on Ron’s right. I was class president and captain of the debate team, and I wore a cardigan and dark-framed glasses, not that the glasses were necessary. I just liked the way they made me look—one of my girlfriends had told me they’d given me a soulful expression.

Micajah stood on Ron’s left, his arm around his boyfriend. He wore a lab coat and a stethoscope; he wasn’t really a good deal older than us, only a couple of years, those years spent as a medic in the military.

I took a sip of brandy and thought about the events of the past.

* * * *

Ron was a freshman attending Enoch Poor High School in Cambridge, Massachusetts when I met him, a freshman myself who had just transferred at the start of the school year. It didn’t seem likely we’d become friends; we were too different.

My family, which consisted of Mom, myself, and my three sisters, had moved to Cambridge for Mom’s new job. There was no dad—dads. We each had a different one, but that didn’t matter since we did fine without them.

Ron’s family was at the other end of the spectrum. There was a father and mother, Ron, and two older sisters. The Edgerlys were one of the wealthiest families in the state, but you’d never know it from the way Ron acted. He was quiet and shy, and maybe he latched onto me since I was the exact opposite, extroverted and gregarious, able to get any girl if I made the effort. Not that he needed me to attract girls. They flocked to him, drawn not only because of his wealth and personality, but because he treated them all well, and those he couldn’t date—there was only one of him after all—settled for me. I didn’t mind; those girls realized quickly they’d gotten a good deal, we enjoyed our time together, and then remained friends when we parted ways.

We graduated, me as valedictorian and Ron as salutatorian, and went on to Harvard, where I majored in English and Linguistics, and he worked toward a degree in Economics and Finance. We shared a dorm room, and I noticed he draped a tie over the doorknob, indicating he was entertaining a young lady, less and less. Well, I was doing the same, since our studies took a lot out of us. We talked about it and assured ourselves we’d get back into the swing of things soon.

And during our sophomore year, we did, although not quite in the way I’d imagined.

He met and became fascinated with Micajah Autry, a medical student who dormed on the other side of campus.

“He’s…he’s stunning, Leo. And he’s a senior!”

I gave Ron a look. “You’re straight, aren’t you?”

He, in turn, looked abashed. “I…uh…might have been wrong about that.”

“Are you saying you’re bi?”

“I guess. Look, Leo, you’ve got to keep this to yourself. If my parents ever found out…”

“All right, I promise.” That was what best friend’s did, wasn’t it?

“Great! Now I want you to meet Cage. I’ll call him and see when would be a good time.”

“Cage?”

“I like that so much better than Micajah, don’t you? I don’t know what his parents were thinking to give him a name like that. It’s so old-fashioned. And he’s a medical student.” Ron laughed, almost giddy. “My mother will be so happy. She’s always after my sisters to marry a doctor.”

“Wait, marry?”

“Just a figure of speech. When I tell Mom, maybe she won’t be too upset he’s a guy.”

“Ron…”

“And he’s gorgeous! He’s got this head of wavy light-brown hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Bluer than mine?” I teased. I really was pleased he seemed so happy, even if he was simply bi-curious.