“You're gay? I don't believe you. You don't have the look.”
“Yeah,” Christopher said.
“I'm also gay,” Justin said.
“Wow.”
“This is terrifying.”
“I've never told anyone.”
“Neither.”
So aged seventeen they'd found each other—behind hay bales at the back of the Four Villages cider festival, both drunk, both earnest. June—frilled hollyhocks pink and alive, and eve…
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