Chapter 17
Before
Jason finds me before the game starts.
I see him moving across the grass, and when he catches my eye, he nods toward the hall leading from the locker room.
My heart does the thing it always does when Jason wants to see me.
Because even now, after almost six months of being with him, my body hasn’t gotten the message that this isn’t always a good thing.
I smile.
He doesn’t smile back.
“We need to talk.” He says once we’re out of sight, grabbing my arm and steering me toward the wall under the bleachers, and I go without arguing, my hopes still up that he wants a good luck kiss.
“Is everything okay?” I ask when he stops. “You only have twenty minutes before—”
“She broke up with me.”
I look at him. “What?”
“Olivia.” His jaw is tight, his eyes shining. “She broke up with me this afternoon.”
I try not to show how I really feel about that, forcing a frown. “Oh, I’m sorry, I—”
“Someone told her.” He steps closer, and I step back at the sound of his voice. “Someone’s been talking.”
“And you think it was me? Jason, I would never—”
“Then how does she know?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she—”
“She knew, Alex.” His voice drops low, and I know that voice. I know what comes after it.“She said I seemed distracted.”
“That doesn’t mean she knows,” I say, because I haven’t told a single person. I’ve been so careful. “I swear, I haven’t said anything to anyone.”
“You looked at me in the hallway yesterday.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“In front of everyone.” His eyes are glassy, but they’re also cold, the way they get right before he—
“You looked at me like—”
“Jason, I didn’t—”
“You’re so stupid sometimes.” He says the words quietly, and that’s almost worse than if he’d shouted it. “You don’t think about anything, do you? You don’t think about what this costs me.”
My throat tightens, because I do. I think about it all the time. I think about it every single day. What being with me costs him, what he’s risking for me, what it means that he chose me anyway.
I reach for him, but he pushes me back hard, his strong hands flat against my chest. I hit the wall behind me hard enough that it knocks the air out of me.
“Jason, please,” I say, clutching my chest, tears threatening my eyes.
“She was my girlfriend. My actual girlfriend.” His voice cracks, and something in me does along with him.
“I thought,” I start, my voice coming out too small. Pathetic. “You said you didn’t want her. You said—”
He runs a hand through his hair with a mean laugh, looking away from me. “You think I actually want this? You? Come on, Alex. Be realistic.” He shakes his head. “You’re never gonna get it, are you?”
I think I do get it.
He doesn’t want me. I’ve lied to my family. I’ve let him fuck me any time he wanted. And it’s still not enough.
I’m never enough.
I press my back against the wall, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sniffle, even though nothing I can say will change anything.
He looks at me, watches me cry silently, and then he stomps toward the locker room without another word.
I stay where I am until I get my face under control.
Iris is waiting for me on the bleachers, and I’m glad to see her. She never treats me like baggage, and I’m really fucking grateful for that right now.
But when she looks at me, I can tell that she saw something.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I say, my voice coming out a little bit too scratchy.
“Alex—”
“Don’t. I’m fine,” I snap.
She tells me about being bullied in high school. That she knows what it feels like.
But she has no idea what she saw.
Now
I’m packing my bigger suitcase when Mike appears in the doorway.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He leans against the frame with his arms crossed, watching me fold a shirt with a little pout on his lips and his eyelids heavy, the way they get when he smokes.
He’s been trying not to say anything, but I know he cares.
He always cares.
And that’s the thing about Mike that no one else knows. What Ryan doesn’t know. He hides it under confidence, and jokes, and sex. But underneath all of it, he feels so much.
“How long again?”
“Twelve days. I’ll be back before your New Year’s party,” I tell him, tucking one of my good shirts into the bag.
Part of me regrets telling Nate and Iris I would stay with them over winter break. The last thing I want to do is leave Mike for that long. But this is the last chance I’ll have to go home again before they move into the new house.
He pushes off the doorframe and comes into the room, stopping behind me to wrap his arms around me. He rests his head against my back, and I put my hand over his. “It’s a long time.”
“I know. It’ll be the last time, I promise.”
“It’s Christmas.” He says it simply, but I know what he means.
There’s a difference between any other random holiday and Christmas. Everyone knows that, even people who act like they don’t care. And he’s gotta be missing his parents extra right now.
Christmas always makes everybody miss Mom.
I turn around, and he’s already looking up at me, his lips still downturned. I hate that look on him when I know he means it. I put my hands on either side of his face and tilt it up and kiss him until he makes a soft sound against my mouth.
When I pull back, he keeps his eyes closed for a second, coming back online slowly from the weed. “I don’t want to leave,”
“Then don’t.”
“Mike.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes. “I know, you promised. I’m just saying you could always un-promise. We could do something here instead. Get a shitty tree and—”
“They’ll have already told the kids, I don’t want them to be disappointed, I don’t get to see them much anymore,” I tell him, even though the thought of spending Christmas with Mike is sounding better and better.
I need to go home, no matter how tempting his offer is.
“I know,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor.
“Hey.” I back up until I can sit on the edge of the bed and reach for his hand, pulling him closer until he’s doing his version of towering over me. “You’ll still have the guys. Zara said she wasn’t going home for Christmas. Maybe you could throw one of your parties.”
“Yeah.” He nods, but it’s the least enthusiastic nod I’ve ever seen. “I guess I’ll figure it out.”
“Mike,” I run my thumb over his knuckles. “What’s actually going on? I know you don’t want me to go, but is something else bothering you?”
“Nothing. I just—” He pauses with a deep exhale. “I love Christmas. Well. I used to.”
“When your parents were alive?”
He nods once. “But now…” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, even though it clearly does. “I hate being alone this time of year.”
My mind drifts to a younger Mike, suddenly without his parents and without anyone who cared what kind of Christmas he had. What traditions his family had. Memories only he remembers.
I wish I could give that to him.
“Maybe I could come with you,” he suggests. He plays it off as an idea he thought of on the spot, but I can tell it’s not. That’s why he came in here.
The words hang in the air between us.
Maybe I could come.
I want to say yes.
I want that more than anything. A version of my life where Mike meets Nate as my boyfriend, sits at the table at Ben’s house, and lets Noah talk his ear off, and has a real place in my life. A real Christmas with a real family that loves him because I—
But I remember Nate’s face that day I asked him for advice. Alex met a girl.
The excitement.
The relief.
I want Mike to come home with me.
But twelve days of navigating my family, of Mike sitting next to me and having to pretend I haven’t been inside of him more times than I can count. That he’s my roommate with nowhere to go.
A friend at best.
I look up at him now, waiting for my answer with his face arranged into something neutral, and I know that he already knows what I’m going to say.
His face falls, and I watch it happen in real time. The disappointment that he can’t hide. He nods, and then he shakes his head, looking away completely. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“I’m sorry,” I reach for him, but he pulls back. “I would bring you if I could, but—”
“They can’t know about us,” he finishes for me, and the words come out flat. A little angry.
“Mike—”
“No, it’s fine.” He takes a step back, and another, putting a distance between us that he’s never wanted before. “I get it.”
Something isn’t right. I stand up to follow him, and he turns around, pacing back and forth in front of the dresser. I watch him, waiting for whatever this is.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, still not looking at me.
“Yeah, of course.”
“What exactly is the plan?” He finally turns toward me. “Like, long term.” I open my mouth, but close it when he keeps talking.
“Because right now it looks like—” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound right. “It looks like I’m your big gay secret that you only want when it’s convenient for you.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it?” He finally looks at me, and his eyes aren’t shining anymore. They’re clear and direct, and whatever he’s feeling right now, I’ve never seen it before.
“Ryan says something to you, and you come home all freaked out. Pissed at me like it’s my fault. And now you won’t even—” He gestures at my suitcase. “I’m not allowed to meet your family because they’ll know right away.”
“That’s not fair, Mike. You know I can’t—”
He crosses his arms. “Alex, I can promise you that people have come out in worse situations, and at some point—”
“At some point, what?” I can hear the defensiveness leaking into my own voice, and I can’t do a thing about it. “Do you think I’m choosing this?”
“I think,” he says, choosing every word carefully as he twists a blade into my heart. “that you’re using it as an excuse to never have to be brave.”
The room goes quiet.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” His voice cracks. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re perfectly happy being with me in private, but the second there’s a chance of someone knowing? Any chance of us being real? You shut down.”