Chapter 25.
TJ
Everything is the same.
But I’m not.
Yesterday’s Fourth party still sings in my ears like a song with no shape that I can’t get out of my head. I don’t want it to get out. I want to keep living in that moment forever, clinging to it like my new favorite plushie, knowing it’s gonna go down as one of my happiest memories.
After breakfast, Austin’s bandmates leave.
It’s tough to watch them go after the fun time we’ve had together over the past few days.
Fiona gives me an unexpectedly tight hug and says, “You are so much more than I thought you were at first, bucko. I hope we get to see you again sooner than later,” which leaves me with a laugh frozen on my face wondering exactly how little she thought of me at first. Wily also gives me a hug, says, “Keep it real,” then heads to the car that’s come to take them to the airport.
Raj tells me, “You have a permanent backstage pass, you understand? I’ll let Rob know.
Oh, you don’t know Rob. He’s wonderful. And scary. Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you.”
And just before they leave, Austin’s phone quacks.
Not moos. Quacks.
“Thanks, Fiona,” mutters Austin to himself, cracking a smile, as we stand at the front of my house and watch them drive away.
And just like that, it’s quiet again.
Like the concert never happened. Like it’s just Austin and me alone again, enjoying his two-week break.
Like it’s always just been us this whole time.
Austin turns to me, his arms settling around the small of my back, his eyes pouring into mine.
“So …” he says, filling the gentle air.
“Yeah,” I say right back, then let out a small, nervous chuckle.
Then we come together, my face against his shoulder, his against mine, as his arms close around me in that sweet protective way that makes everything else fall away.
My favorite place in the world.
“I guess …” I start to say, voice buried somewhat in Austin’s shoulder, “this is when I … say something life-changing …?”
He chuckles. “Or we just bug your parents and insist to help clean up the mess in the backyard.”
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Austin …”
“Or, if you’re afraid of facin’ their wrath over us bein’ way too dang helpful, we could take up Billy and Tanner’s offer to go head-to-head at the arcade this afternoon with their game-happy kids?”
I smile distractedly, remembering. “Right. We, um … could …”
“Wasn’t that pastor guy I met for half a second also roped into the plans? Since he and his husband left early before the fireworks and we didn’t chat with them much, it’d be a nice chance to—”
“I think I have to do something first.”
He peers at me. “Do what?”
After a moment’s thought, I begin to slowly nod. “I … I think I need to …” I swallow. “… to have a talk with my parents.”
His gaze hardens with understanding. “About your future.”
“About a number of things.” I give his arms a squeeze as I let go. “I just hope … I hope they …”
He gently takes my hands, bringing my focus back to his eyes, grounding me in that amazing way only he can do. “They love you. Trust that love.”
I close my eyes, squeeze his hands, and nod.
Then I peer back at the house. It looks like a gargantuan bug with eighty eyes and it’s lunchtime soon.
“Want me in there with you?” he asks suddenly.
I turn to him. “No, no, that’d be too much.” The next second, I blink. “Or maybe that’d be perfect …? Yes.” I nod, realizing it’d be impossible for my parents to get upset if he’s there. “You’re exactly what I need. I need you there. Be next to me.”
Austin smiles that self-assured, cocky-ass smile of his.
Exactly what I need to see.
Y’know, before I enter the mouth of that gargantuan, hungry, eighty-eyed bug.
I gather my parents in the downstairs study. It’s easy. My dad was already there looking for a book. My mom was nearby in the kitchen finishing a bagel. People are in the backyard loading stuff up from the party and nothing needs their attention.
It’s the perfect time.
And here I sit in a chair across from them. Staring the two of them down like they’re strangers. Austin in a chair next to mine.
Is it the perfect time? Could this have waited another few days or so, letting us ride the high of the party before I go and do this?
Am I about to ruin everything?
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” asks my mom when I don’t say anything for quite some time.
Crap. I’m already starting this off wrong.
“Sorry. I’m just …” I clear my throat. “I’m trying to, um …
find the words. I swear I had them,” I add, like a little joke, desperate to lighten everything up.
“Must’ve misplaced them. Like, in my head.
Or something. Okay. I found them. I’m ready.
” I take a breath—then grab Austin’s hand.
“We’re pregnant. It’s a boy.” I sigh. “S-Sorry, I’m …
losing my mind and making jokes instead of just—Is it hot in here, by the way? Did someone flip off the AC?”
Austin’s thumb rubs gently over mine, our hands still held.
I peer at our hands, once again grounded by his magic touch.
It was absolutely the right call, to ask him to be here with me.
I don’t know if I’d have the courage to do this without him.
Or to say the right words. I’d probably just talk myself in circles until finally deciding I brought them here to share a funny story about Samuel and the dogs he was trying to get my mom to adopt.
I let out a shaky breath.
It’s the last shaky breath I’ll let out.
I look up at my parents.
Really look at them.
My mom and her concerned eyes, leaning forward, listening.
My dad and his quiet, contemplative way of studying me, his thin mouth locked tight, allowing me the space to gather myself while also retaining a bit of guardedness, unsure what’s coming or how he’ll choose to react to it.
He literally didn’t budge at the pregnant joke thing.
Not that I expected him to. Neither did Mom, to be fair.
It’s time. “I had planned a road trip with my bestie AJ.”
That feels like a good place to start, right?
They don’t react at first. Then my mom looks at my dad with a delayed turn of her head, squinting. “AJ …?” My dad shakes his head, at a loss.
I wasn’t kidding. They know next to nothing about my college life. Even the name of my alleged best friend.
“It doesn’t matter,” I cut in, bringing their faces back to mine.
“He’s … maybe not the best bestie. My point isn’t so much about …
about him. It’s the road trip. I … I had planned a road trip.
A big one. I’d actually still be on it right now …
had my plans not fallen through.” I still have their attention.
They aren’t asking anything. “Some version of me … in a … a parallel universe …” I peer at my dad, wondering if my weird sci-fi metaphor will land.
“… went on the road trip. And he’s in California by now with his bestie AJ on a beach.
He would have already seen the most beautiful lava caverns in New Mexico and taken a zillion pictures.
He’d have walked the streets of Las Vegas and picked up M&M and Lego socks, called them his new lucky pairs, and been having the time of his life.
And that version of me … still sitting out there on that California beach with AJ getting burnt to a crisp in the sun …
” I glance to my side, to the man whose hand I hold. “He’d never have met Austin.”
I see his eyes brighten. Encouraging me. Listening.
I find my parents continuing to hang on to my every word. They don’t dare interrupt. They want to hear everything.
I never do this. I never open up.
This is new for them, too.
And maybe a little scary.
“I’m only now coming to realize … that my big road trip …
it was a cry for help. I wanted to see the world outside of Texas.
The world outside of my life. The world beyond anything I’ve touched before.
All I could see was my own life … closing in.
It had never occurred to me—like, ever—that I could experience anything else.
That my future could be something … different.
That I might know anything outside of Spruce … and … and tractors …”
“Sweetheart …”
“Please let me finish,” I beg my mom. She’s already got tears in her eyes, but she quickly nods and presses a few fingers to her own lips, drawing quiet.
“I don’t want you to blame Austin for my newfound perspective.
He supports me no matter what I do. This existed long before we did.
Every summer. Every time I returned to campus …
to pursue a degree with only half my heart.
There’s a world out there, a big world full of possibilities …
and I want to see it, Mom. I want to see it, Dad. Just to be sure.”
“To be sure?” squeaks my mom, then lifts a hand in apology and goes back to pressing her fingers to her lips, silencing herself.
“Yeah.” I nod confidently. “I want to see the world first before I decide what I’m doing with my future.”
A moment of silence passes.
Maybe it literally is a moment of silence. Like we’re mourning the death of TJ the boy. Listening to the words of TJ the man, who my mom and dad may not truly have met before. The TJ outside of this house.
I lift my wrist.
My parents’ eyes fall upon my grandfather’s wristwatch, his last gift to me before he passed.