I glance over at him, a bit concerned. “You okay, mate?” I ask, noticing he seems lost in thought. “Oh, yeah, I guess I was lost in thought, sorry,” he replies, sounding a bit distant. I take a breath, trying to ease the tension. “Sooo,” I draw out the word, feeling a flutter of nerves. “Are you actually gay?” I can hear the uncertainty in my voice. He looks at me, and after a moment, he says, “Um, yeah, I am.” There’s a pause, and I can sense he’s weighing his words. “Just curious,” I say, trying to keep it light. “But I’ve never dated anyone,” he adds, moving a bit closer. “Why not?” I ask, genuinely intrigued. He meets my gaze, and I can see a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I have a very specific type,” he smirks. “Yeah?” I feel my heart race a little. “Yeah, he has to have brown hair,” he continues, “And always wears a hoodie with sweatpants.” I can’t help but wonder if he’s teasing me. “And he takes his sister to my football matches.” My stomach drops—why is he sharing this with me? I must look like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, quickening my pace to catch up with the others, feeling a mix of confusion and something else I can’t quite place.