3 - Sam
Bond made it look so easy. And sexy.
Nico looked sexy as ever too.
Sam grinned. The motorcycle had been the perfect wedding present.
“Hey!” Sam broke through the dispersing crowd to get to his guy.
Like magnets snapping together, they kissed. Nico tasted like hot apple cider. With cinnamon. Sam pressed into him, not wanting the moment of connection to end.
“Hey,” Nico breathed when they finally paused.
“If it isn’t my favorite barista,” Sam teased.
Nico looked away, like he was embarrassed. “I haven’t even made you a coffee yet.”
“I bet you make one hell of a latte.”
“That’s the idea.” But Nico didn’t sound excited.
Sam figured it must have been a hard day, and he wanted to be encouraging. “I can’t wait to taste it! Do you know what location you’ll be working at yet? You could practice at home. That Miele built-in is practically new. And hey! We should get you a present, to celebrate your new job!”
“You don’t need to get me anything.”
“Oh!” Sam was too excited by the idea to slow down and got his phone out, toggling to the auction website he’d been browsing on the ferry. “Check out this Omega Seamaster I saw for sale—”
“Sam.”
“It’s like the one Daniel Craig wore in No Time to Die , and you’d totally rock it!”
“You’re not—”
“It’s got a brown-and-cream face with a titanium bracelet, so we wouldn’t exactly match, but—”
“Sam!”
Sam stopped. Nico sounded upset?
“I don’t want some stupid-expensive watch, okay?” Nico was kind of upset.
Feeling crushed, Sam put his phone away. “I was just trying to do something nice for you.”
“I get that,” Nico said, voice softer. “But you gotta listen to me.”
“Okay.” Sam’s voice sounded weak, and he hated it.
“You ordered pizzas for this thing?” Nico asked.
“Everybody voted for it. You all need to heal about that.” Sam tried to shake it off and checked his own Bond-watch.
Stupid-expensive. Sam pushed the criticism away.
He didn’t want to focus on Nico not liking something about him.
He couldn’t. Sam forced himself to focus on what the steel-blue-faced stupid-expensive watch said: 6:53 PM .
“They should have been delivered already. We should go.”
“You bring your helmet?” Nico asked.
Sam pulled it from his backpack. “It’s why I got us two.”
“Hop on.”
The whole short ride to the hotel, Sam pressed his hands into Nico’s chest and abs though his denim sherpa jacket, trying to send warm, loving thoughts through his palms. Smooth things out as they bumped over the cracked asphalt streets.
He leaned in tighter. Holding Nico felt so good. But Nico was busy driving, so he couldn’t hug Sam back… even if he wanted to.
So no watch. Okay.
But Sam would make it up to him.
Valentine’s Day was Thursday. That gave Sam two whole days to come up with something spectacular.
1908
Sam and Nico walked in to find the Freedom Party had taken over the lobby.
There were ninety-one boxes of pizza in the breakfast area, and everyone seemed to be enjoying it.
Sam had made sure there was an entire pizza for each person, with whatever toppings they wanted.
Seventy-three customized pizzas—one for each teen from the Institute, plus Nico, Frida, Ari, and himself, and then eighteen more, the Jewish number for good luck.
So much pizza, no one could feel bad about eating as much as they wanted.
The smell of melted cheese and crunchy dough filled Sam’s nose, and he felt really great about making this happen.
It was healing pizza.
Sam and Nico headed into the crowd. Frida’s alter-ego Crank Shaft—not in full drag, just a fake mustache and all the attitude—was standing on top of the reception desk, holding forth.
Student government A, B, C
St. Bacchus is stuck in BCE
Everyone that they’d liberated a month ago seemed to be there.
In the middle of it all, Peter—the kid Nico treated like a little brother—held up the Leica Q2 Daniel Craig × Greg Williams specialedition camera Sam had gotten him.
While capturing footageof theperformance, Peter gave Nico a fist bump with his free hand.
With the Gender Binary—
The crowd booed, and Sam bumped Nico’s shoulder playfully as they joined in.
Patriarchy—
This time everyone hissed.
And white supremacy—
It was a competition to see who could make the rudest noises. Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the terrible fart sound Nico made with his mouth against his palm. Nico’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Sam, then back to the performance.
Who has the power to speak for me?
For those of us you don’t seem to see?
Sam spotted Bec—Nico’s closest friend from their terrible Institute days—right by the reception desk. Bec was all eyes for Crank Shaft, and Sam was thinking maybe there was something sparking there between the two of them.
I’m Mx. Crank Shaft, occasionally.
Frida more regularly.
Sam looked around for his other best friend Ari, though now that Nico was in Sam’s life the Sam-Ari-Frida us-against-the-world triangle felt different. Sam told himself that was bound to happen once one of them partnered up. And Frida might not be single for long either…
He spotted Ari off to the side by the house computer and printer, a little by themself. Ari raised a hand to wave and Sam nodded—he’d make his way over to say hi in a second.
Putting forth my candidacy.
My two dads would vote for me,
But they’re not students at St. Bacchus Academy.
Sam snorted at that. Nico seemed happy, and Sam felt like maybe they’d be okay after all. He just had to come up with something really great for Valentine’s Day. Something not stupid-expensive. Maybe Ari would have an idea.
So it’s up to you, community.
Sam had seen enough Crank Shaft performances and could tell it was the big finale moment. He started the clapping, twice after each phrase:
Manifest!
Clap-clap.
The change!
Clap-clap! Everyone joined in.
You want!
CLAP CLAP.
To see!
CLAP-CLAP!
Crank Shaft threw his arms up and shouted the final line:
Vote for Frida Lambert-Buckley!!!
The lobby erupted in cheers and applause, hoots and whistles, everyone swept up in the energy of the moment.
Peter shouted to Nico and Sam, “That’ll make a great campaign video!”
Sam was sure it would.
Bec helped Crank Shaft down from the desk and they were mobbed with well-wishers.
He’d say hi to Frida later. A house remix of George Michael’s “Freedom” started playing, one of the kids from the Institute DJing.
Colored lights flashed all around them, transforming the Mehudar lobby into more of a nightclub.
It had never looked this cool when his savta ran it.
“Be right back.” Sam squeezed Nico’s shoulder and headed over to Ari, whose tiny hat perfectly akimbo on their shaved head was a miniature pizza box, lid propped open.
“Hi!” Sam said.
Ari clasped the top of Sam’s arms as they kissed hello touching cheeks—left, right, left. A new Ari thing since their winter vacation to Zermatt.
“Nice solidarity with the tiny hat!” Sam got up on his toes to get a better look. The miniature pizza inside—made out of clay?—was pepperoni.
Ari’s manicured fingernails swept the air by their hat.
“Sensei is a millinery artist.” Sensei Asako worked with Ari, the older public face to Ari’s tech security business.
Sam knew she worked for Ari and not the other way around, but that was a secret.
With Ari’s parents chronically on vacation, Sensei was the closest thing Ari had to family, besides Sam and Frida.
“How was your day?” Ari asked.
Sam wanted to tell them, but he wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t sure if it was harder to keep the secret from one of his best friends or from his husband. It was all hard.
Change the subject , Sam told himself. “I could use some advice,” he admitted.
“You?” Ari’s voice was playful. “The man behind this? The man with all the answers?”
“I don’t—You’re ridiculous,” Sam bantered back.
Ari made his eyes all wide, black-and-white movie diva dramatic. “Do tell.”
“So… Valentine’s Day.” Sam couldn’t help the smile on his face as he explained.
“It’ll be my first one with a boyfriend—I mean, husband.
Just… with someone special. I need to pull off something really amazing, so Nico knows…
” He looked back across the crowd to Nico, surrounded by friends who were chatting up a storm.
Nico’s cell phone must have buzzed, because he pulled it out and read something on the screen.
Sam watched Nico run a hand through his hair, and it was so adorable and sexy.
“You don’t think he knows?” Ari asked.
“Well…” Sam wasn’t sure how to explain, about the weirdness when he and Nico talked on the phone.
About their silly argument earlier about Sam’s “stupid-expensive” taste.
About how keeping a secret from Nico made Sam’s guts kind of uneasy, like he’d eaten something off.
“It just feels like a big deal, you know?”
Sam looked back at Ari, who clasped their hands sympathetically. “So pull out all the stops,” Ari suggested. “And hopefully Nico will do the same.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Sam to wonder what Nico might get him for Valentine’s Day. Flowers? Chocolate? It all seemed pretty cliché, but the idea of getting some token of love from Nico made Sam ridiculously happy. He knew he was grinning like some lovestruck idiot, and he didn’t even care.
“Thanks,” Sam said. “You’re always there for me.” Sam turned to find Nico, who was heading toward them.
“Always,” Ari repeated, but Sam was already threading his way through the crowd to Nico.
As soon as they reached each other Sam kissed Nico, just because he could. Nico kissed him back. They stood there for a long minute, lovers on a dance floor.
Sam pulled away first, to scold-tease Nico. “You haven’t had any pizza yet.”
“You kissed me to figure that out? Very Bond of you.” Nico smiled with just one side of his mouth. It drove Sam crazy.