He was Adam. He was straight. He was just my friend. We weren't actually dating. This was the year that my mom's guilt trips finally worked. I was going home for Christmas, although the prospects of this trip didn't seem too great. I hadn't been home since I came out as gay a few years ago, and I certainly wasn't planning on bringing anyone home with me. But then my straight friend Adam volunteered to come with me as a buffer between me and my judgmental family. Turns out he did too good a job because one moment my uncle is making a homophobic joke, and the next thing I know, Adam is kissing me just to piss him off. So now everyone thinks we're dating, and instead of correcting them, we're going along with it. Just me and my straight fake boyfriend. My straight fake boyfriend who is also super hot and who I now can't stop thinking about kissing. What could possibly go wrong?