22. Peter
22
Peter
W e kissed .
I wanted to punch the air. I wanted to lean my head back and shout so the whole world knew that I’d kissed Everett Bailey.
He was mine . He wanted me to be his partner .
And when I pulled back, he looked...unreasonably tasty. Better than pizza or cookies or anything else I could imagine, because he was just the slightest bit rumpled and his lips were pink and beautiful and swollen in a way that drew my eyes straight down to his perfect mouth.
It felt like I’d won. I wasn’t sure what I’d won, exactly, but I was Peter not-quite Hawking and I was supremely freaking victorious.
Then we cuddled on the couch and watched some silly TV show about people singing, and before we went to sleep, I sneaked one more kiss.
Patience, Dr. Hawking said. I couldn’t do everything all at once, and I wasn’t even sure what everything meant, but I could do a lot and I’d figure it all out in time.
In the morning, Everett made coffee. It was artist fuel, he said, and I only liked it with a bunch of cream and sugar—so much that when I dumped it in, he raised an eyebrow at me and I told him in no uncertain terms that I was an adult and could do whatever I wanted.
He said something about cavities, but I was going to trust in magic to keep all my teeth in tiptop shape.
I ate cereal and Everett returned to his computer. I figured he was back to hunting for a job. Before last night, I hadn’t known what exactly to make for Everett for Christmas. Now, I knew.
Maybe I wasn’t a genius like him, with all his staggering talent, but I could make things easier. I could remove some of the problems that were stuck in his head so he could focus on what really mattered. And yes, maybe I’d twisted things around to convince myself that repairing things was basically the same as making new things, but I couldn’t make beautiful art like him. I could only try and make things right.
We were sitting there when his cell phone buzzed on the table beside him. He stared down at it for a few seconds, a frown on his face, and I thought he might not even answer.
Then, he sighed and shook his head. “I should take this.”
“Can I...use your laptop then?” I’d used it a couple times. It was interesting and all—kind of overwhelming, the way you could just type something in and get an answer in a second, but I liked it. Everett and Dr. Hawking were encouraging me to think about what I’d like to have and do.
Now that living had a time limit, it seemed wise to figure it out.
Still, most jobs required school and certificates and things I didn’t have and wasn’t sure I really wanted to get. I wanted to spend time with Everett, have fun together, do things that mattered to us both. Starting to try and catch up with school wasn’t just overwhelming, it felt like turning my back on the stuff that really mattered to me right then.
Maybe one day, I’d want to learn more in that kind of setting, but just learning how to live was enough for now.
Still, I did want to fill my day with things, and I hadn’t quite figured out what. Everett would have to work eventually, and I liked the idea of taking the pressure off him. I was even thinking about asking Ezra and Marsha if they needed some help at the store. I could stack stuff, haul boxes, that kind of thing.
I might not be exactly like I was in the forest, but certain things didn’t bother me. I didn’t seem to get tired the way that other people did. It was more than just my ears the woods had changed, but I’d figure it out one day.
Or maybe I wouldn’t, and that’d be okay too.
In any case, Everett let me use his laptop to try and figure out the things I liked and wanted to try, so he turned it around to me with a smile and a nod. “Of course. Be right back.”
He grabbed his phone and walked down the hallway toward the bedroom.
I couldn’t type half as fast as he could, and this time...well, I really had meant to look up something interesting and useful, but what came out was, “two men kissing.”
That’s what I searched for, and it turned up all kinds of websites for LGBTQA+ people. And then it turned up pictures , and—and oh.
They were lovely and my face felt tingly and warm and I thought about kissing Everett again and how we might smile like the people in these pictures and how wonderful that was and?—
“Peter? Everything okay?”
Everett stood on the other side of the table, his head tilted curiously. With a squeak, I snapped his computer shut and slid it back across the table.
“Totally good. Awesome. Completely, totally good. You?”
He hummed. He didn’t seem thrilled, and his jaw looked kind of tight, but he also wasn’t crying or shaking or angry, so he’d tell me when he felt like talking about it.
“Yeah. That was just my boss,” he said, voice subdued.
I waited for him to say more, but he only slumped into his chair at the kitchen table and opened his laptop, and a sly smile crept across his face. He glanced over the top edge of his computer at me. “Whatcha thinking about, Peter?”
“Oh...” My face got even hotter. “Nothing, really. Just what’s, uh, next I guess.”
“Okay,” Everett said, biting his lip and glancing back down at the screen. “You’re not really used to this stuff, so it’s not fair for me to tease you. And I’m not, really. I...think I like what you’re thinking about. But when you close a laptop? That doesn’t close the windows you had open.”
“What?” I rushed out of my seat around to his side of the table, craning over his shoulder to look at all those pictures of men kissing men. “Oh crap,” my hands pressed my cheeks and I caught Everett’s eye. He seemed like he was trying really hard not to laugh.
He twisted in his chair to loop his arm around my back and pull me closer. Even though I was standing and he was still sitting, it was nice to lean into him. I draped my arms over his shoulders.
“Why are you embarrassed?” Everett asked, looking up at me.
Upon reflection, I...didn’t really know. Everett didn’t make me feel small or stupid for not knowing all the same stuff everyone else seemed to. And really, I just wanted to think about kissing him. So why did it make me squirm to know he’d caught me thinking about it?
“I...want you to think I’m cool,” I whispered. “Or, like...I want you to be able to trust me to know what I’m doing? I want to sweep you off your feet. I don’t ever want you to catch me fumbling.”
Everett hummed again, his chin against my stomach and his eyes on the wall beside me as he thought it over. After a few seconds, he caught my eye again.
“Well, first off, you’re cute when you fumble. I like it, like you, so please don’t deny me your fumbling because then I’ll feel like I’m the only one who ever does it.”
I huffed, pushing on his shoulder. “No, you never do.”
He laughed. “I do all the time. But second...you said you wanted to figure everything out with me—all the big firsts and stuff?”
I bit my lip hard. I did, even if I didn’t want to make him go through stuff he’d already been through. Everett was why I’d come out. I wanted everything with him.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“What if I said that’s good for me too? I could use a redo on figuring stuff out. I don’t think either of us needs to know it all right away, but we can work together on it.”
“Okay.” My voice came out even quieter, trapped behind a knot in my throat. What he said was everything I wanted, and I was scared it wasn’t real or that he was just trying to take care of me, not himself.
“I’m serious,” he pressed, pushing a kiss into my stomach through my T-shirt. “I like that you’re thinking about it, and you can absolutely use my computer whenever you want to research whatever you want, but I don’t want you to be perfect. I just want you to be Peter.”
And, well, if I drew him out of his seat and kissed him after that, savoring the bitter taste of coffee on his lips, who could blame me? He wanted me, and nothing had ever felt better.