Page 103 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

“Are you in love with him?”

Eli doesn’t reply. Because he can’t.

He knows that he can’t possibly be in love with Peter. It’s only been a few weeks, and these aren’t the kind of circumstances that deserve love.

He’s here to write an article, and fix Peter. That’s it.

“Why are you so curious about my love life?” he asks.

Les shrugs. “I dunno.”

Eli eyes them, squinting carefully. “How much did Mom pay you to snoop?”

“Twenty bucks,” Les says, quickly giving Rue up. “And I get to go to Andi’s sleepover next weekend.”

“Mm-hmm . . .” Eli hums, closing the PDF, his open Google Doc with Peter’s article taking its place.

“What’s that?” Les asks.

“Nothing.” Eli minimizes the window. “Have you practiced tonight?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well, go do that. Mom said at least an hour.”

“Ughhh.” Les rears their head back onto the couch cushion.

“Go, go!” Eli shoos them. “And I’ll know if you just put on some YouTube video of someone else, so don’t try it.”

“How can you even tell?”

“Superhuman hearing.” Eli taps his ears. Besides, Les’s YouTube account is attached to the living room television, so he can always check the video history. “Now go. Scram.”

“Are you going to talk to your boyfriend?” Les sings.

“Leave!” Eli shoos them away.

“Fine!” Les stands up, grabbing their things and stomping down the hallway toward their room. Before he sits back on the couch, Eli listens for the familiar sounds of Les unpacking their cello, the hum of the strings as they begin to play.

He’d never admit it to their face, mostly because the kid can’t take a compliment to save their life, but they’re good at what they do. Incredibly so. And Eli has to try and not feel jealous over his mother not pushing him into playing an instrument when he was younger; by now he could’ve been perfecting his skills for nearly two decades.

No, instead he’s a writer who can’t write, with an article he’s been staring at for a week now with nothing new to write about. He’s plateaued.

Michael’s noticed too, sending Eli an email at the end of nearly every day asking for updates, waiting for Eli to respond to the comments and questions left lingering in the margins of the document.

He’s nearing the end of both articles, reading through them again and again, becoming more and more familiar with the story arc that he’s built. Even in the fake-dating article, he’s done his best to paint a picture of growth, of Peter coming out of his shell, of adapting to Eli’s advice. And soon Peter will meet his parents, and Peter will prepare himself for another first date.

And that’ll be it.

Eli goes back to his Lavender Country article. He knows it’s good; he may not believe that in the moment, but if he places himself outside of the article, looks at it with an objective perspective, the article is well written. It tells the story of growing up queer in the South, of the hardships faced just trying to be yourself, the violence and microaggressions that people like Peter deal with.

But Peter’s words have now injected so much warmth, so much culture. Eli dove headfirst into researching the food that he and Peter had discussed, the jazz musicians that Peter had grown up listening to. Peter had been willing to share a few pictures from his long-abandoned Facebook page, and Eli had to avoid gushing over teenage Peter Park, with his full cheeks and awkwardly sweet smile.

There’s a familiarity with the people around him, one that only comes from growing up in a town where everyone knows everyone else. Before this entire project started, Eli had a stereotypical view of the Southern United States, that it was a place of racism, homophobia, and bigotry.

And of course those things do exist there, just as they exist everywhere in this country. In this world, in fact. No place is a paradise, just as most issues in the South aren’t the fault of the people who live there but those who represent them, who redraw election maps to get the results they want, who refuse to allow voting to be a necessary and accessible outlet for every citizen’s voice.

The South has a dark history, just as every part of America, and there’s no separating it from that. It’s something Eli doesn’t want to shy away from.