26. Samuel
SAMUEL
BOYFRIENDS
I stood on my balcony, breathing in the hot air and tilting my face toward the sun, as if I hadn’t already spent the entire day outside in it, as if I was missing it already.
Maybe I really did. The thought of being shut away in the store again—or, later this year, in lecture halls and libraries—felt unreal.
It was almost as if being out there, surrounded by trees, was the only place that ever made sense.
Cars drifted by on the street, their roar saving me from the silence inside my apartment.
Benji was here so often that being alone was now more out of the ordinary.
I used to crave the quiet—needed it, even—so I could just be myself.
Never would I have thought I’d get to a point where I wished it away.
It wasn’t like I needed Benji around me all the time.
I could still stand on my own, really, but I was always more at ease when he was with me.
His presence did something I couldn’t explain: it steadied me, boosted my confidence, and allowed me to simply exist without second-guessing what anybody else would think.
So, yeah, that’s why my breath came easier when his text lit up my phone.
Benji
I’ll be at your place in ten minutes. Put on something nice, I’ve got a surprise for you.
He’d mentioned wanting to take me out to dinner.
Not that he had to. I didn’t need him to spend a penny to make me happy, although when I’d said that to him two weeks ago, he shrugged it off and told me this was what he’d been saving for.
I never dared to bring it up since. Hopefully, tonight didn’t mean blowing a fortune just to make up for earlier.
Me
How nice?
Normal nice. But nice.
I smiled. At least he didn’t go fully mad trying to prove something I already knew.
I slipped into black jeans and rummaged through my dresser for a ‘normal-nice’ top.
I didn’t have any casual button-ups like his, so I settled for the white shirt I’d worn the night I first met his parents.
It wasn’t fancy, but in combination with black, it always looked casually chic.
The ten minutes passed quickly, and when I received another message, I expected him to tell me to come downstairs, but his words landed like a gut punch.
Please don’t be mad. Just talk to them.
Barely ten seconds later, a knock echoed through the quiet, too soft to be his. I stood frozen, staring at the door and trying to guess who was on the other side instead of opening it. Another, more urgent knock finally jolted me into motion. My hand shook as I turned the knob and pulled.
My parents were standing there, both dressed up as if they were going to the opera. Dad had an apologetic smile on his face, and Mom was tilting her head as if it were too heavy to carry straight.
I just stared, too shocked to breathe.
“Can we come in?” Dad asked.
“I, uh... sure,” I stammered, stepping aside.
Dad walked right past me. Mom took a deep breath before crossing the threshold. I closed the door behind them, keeping my hand on the knob, feeling like the punchline of a joke I hadn’t heard yet.
“Why are you here?” I asked, not as an accusation, just desperate for context.
They exchanged a look before Dad stepped forward.
“We came to apologize,” he said. “We’re sorry we weren’t supportive in a vulnerable moment.”
“Okay?” I said, shifting from one leg to the other, still wondering why Benji had texted me like he’d be the one picking me up—and how he knew they’d come over instead.
“Your...” Mom chimed in, wrinkling her nose, still not yet looking at me. “I mean Benji. He told me you’ve decided to go. To college.”
My head snapped up. “When did you talk to Benji?”
“Believe me, I didn’t see that one coming either,” Mom said. “I was at their place this afternoon, catching up with Linda, and he and I ran into each other. It’s probably hard to imagine, but we talked, and... I might have to admit that we, I, might have made some hasty conclusions about him.”
My breath quickened, my thoughts spinning at the image of the two of them in a conversation at Benji’s house.
“So,” she added, taking another deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for how our last conversation went, but for giving you the silent treatment.”
I rubbed my palms against my thighs, needing to do something with my hands. “Thank you,” I said, avoiding their eyes. The urge to apologize bubbled up, but I knew better—it wasn’t mine to give. “It was hard not to reach out, but... I really didn’t think I was in the wrong here.”
“You weren’t,” Mom said, opening her arms. “I’m sorry it took us so long to realize that.”
I wanted to hesitate, be upset with them for not listening to me and taking so long to come around, but her apologetic smile and the desire to put this silly fight behind me pulled me straight into the hug I’d wanted the first time we talked about Benji.
“I know, Benji seems rough on the outside and everything,” I babbled into her chest, “but he’s really not the bad guy people hold him up to be.”
“Even if he was, it’s not on us to judge who you like,” Mom said, still holding on. “You’re old enough to make your own choices. We have to trust them. And I promise, we’ll try to get to know him.”
“He’ll show you what an amazing person he is. He totally will, if you give him a chance.”
“We will. And if not, your dad’s still a cop,” Mom chuckled.
“Brenda,” Dad muttered, shaking his head.
“It was just a joke. Half a joke.” She finally let go of me, and when I turned to Dad, he opened his arms too.
I rushed in and hugged him, too.
“As I was told, we’re also here to pick you up,” Dad said. “So we can all drive to their place and... get to know each other better.”
“Only if you want, though,” Mom added quickly.
Relief washed through me so hard I had to swallow twice before I could speak. A shaky smile tugged at my mouth, impossible to hold back. “I want nothing more.”
When we pulled up at Benji’s place, he and his Dad were already in the garden, smoke curling from the grill. As soon as we held next to the curb, Benji waved, said something to his dad, then jogged over to us.
He and Mom exchanged a cautious but civil nod. Dad, on the other hand, planted his feet and squared his shoulders, every inch the cop on duty, before extending his hand like a peace treaty.
“Thanks for coming, sir,” Benji said, shaking his hand.
“And thank you for inviting us,” Dad replied with a firm nod, then turned to me, his brows lifting, like he was asking what to do next.
“We picked up some things on the way,” I threw in to save both of them the pain of extending this first contact any longer than necessary.
“Oh, I’ll grab them.” Benji hurried to the back of the car, and I followed right behind him.
When we met at the trunk, he murmured a quick “Hey” and gave me a pained smile, as if this was neither the hello he wanted nor the apology for setting me up, but all he dared to risk in front of my parents for now.
“Hi,” I said, gently brushing my hips against his as we both reached for the blue plastic bags to show him that I wasn’t mad. “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks.”
Dad hovered behind us, his hands on his hips. “Nothing left for me?”
“If you want, you can join my father, sir,” Benji said. “There’s a box with beer and other drinks right next to him.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Dad closed the trunk and headed toward the garden, his stance already loosening.
We didn’t stay to watch our Dads greet each other for the first time. Instead, we slipped inside, delivering all the rustling bags to their final destination.
Mom had traded her jacket for an apron and had joined Linda in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and arranging dishes. We hoisted the bags onto the counter, but as Benji walked around, Linda shooed him away.
No, no. We’ll take care of that. You two... you know what you two have to do.” Her eyes flicked to me, a knowing smile flashing over her face, followed by a wink, before she turned around to my mom. “Oh, thank you so much, Brenda.”
Benji nodded down the hallway, and without questioning it, I followed him into his room. As soon as the door clicked shut, I asked, “So, what is this?”
“It’s a family reunion—no, unionizing? Damn, what do you call it? A family get-together?” he said, standing before me, his hands sinking into his pockets. “I hope you’re not mad.”
“Why would I be mad? This is exactly what we said, we should do. Wait. Did you even get a cake that says Benji and Sam forever , when you cut it open?”
“We had like five minutes to organize it, so no. But there are steaks. We can still carve it into them. That was plan B, right?”
I jumped toward him, wrapping my arms around his back, pressing myself into him. He just stood there for a heartbeat, unable to move thanks to me wedging his arms between mine, but then he freed them and joined me in the embrace.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Of course.” His voice rumbled against me. “I’m still not sure if your mom likes me, but this is good enough.”
“She’ll probably need some time to get used to the fact of us being...” I paused, realizing that we hadn’t even said it yet.
Benji grinned. “... being boyfriends?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned forward, bringing his lips to mine in a kiss like he was sealing the deal, before he uttered it to himself again, like he needed to confirm it one more time for it to be true. “Boyfriends.”
We kissed again, this time more passionately, holding each other tight to celebrate the victory of the day we both hadn’t seen coming. After a minute, he leaned his chin on my collarbone, hanging out there for a second before he sighed.
“This day was so exhausting,” he said. “As much as I’m happy about how it’s progressing now... I wish we could just take a nap together.”
“We can. They probably won’t miss us.”