Chapter 33
Oliver
hey Dad, do we have official Thanksgiving plans yet?
Dad
Hi, Oliver. No, we have not made any official plans for Thanksgiving yet. Why do you ask?
Oliver
I was actually invited to join my new friend Jude’s family on Thanksgiving Day. I figured, since we don’t usually do much, it might be okay to have our Thanksgiving meal on Friday or something. is that cool?
Dad
Interesting. I’ll talk to Ashley and see if that would be okay with her parents.
Oliver
thanks Dad!
Dad
Don’t thank me yet. We will see what Ashley and her parents say.
Not even an hour later, while I’m in the middle of college algebra homework, Ashley calls me.
“Yellow?” I answer.
“Oliver?”
“Oliver…” I muse. “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in years.”
Ashley sighs into the receiver. “You know that eventually gets old, right?”
“Not to me!”
“Anyway, I spoke to your dad. You want to ditch us for Thanksgiving?”
I scoff. “Geez, that’s like the worst way he could have possibly interpreted that.
No, I just got invited to my friend Jude’s family’s Thanksgiving dinner, and they have a huge family coming in from all over, so I figured maybe we could have ours a day early or a day late or something. Would that be okay?”
“Hmm. We could work something out. Is this the same friend you were texting nonstop while you visited for Charli’s birthday?”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t nonstop, but yes.”
“I see. And you and this Jude person are just friends? Or is there something else going on?”
So, it’s complicated. I’m in love with them, but they’re only into girls. Also, technically, I’m asexual, and they quite enjoy sex, so it would never work out between us in any other capacity, so yes, just friends. Best friends.
“Just friends, Ashley,” I answer.
“Mhm, okay. Well, I’ll talk to my parents about switching Thanksgiving to Friday. You should invite Jude to our Thanksgiving!”
Damn, why didn’t I think of that? “Okay, yeah. That could be nice.”
“Sounds good! Are you still coming home for the Thanksgiving break?”
“Yeah, I’ll ride home with Theo on the Friday before and stay all week. I think Jude will come and pick me up on Thanksgiving.”
“Awesome! Well, we will see you next week! Love you, kid!”
“Love you, too.”
After I disconnect the call, I lean back against my desk chair and let out a long, low-pitched groan.
Is it fucked up that I’m actually looking forward to being Jude’s fake boyfriend?
I mean, sure, their family sounds awful, and Thanksgiving is going to be miserable for them.
Plus, the reason we’re doing this at all is depressing.
But I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach at the thought of being Jude’s romantic partner, even though I know it’s all pretend.
I assume it’s because I know it’s the closest I’ll ever get to the real thing, and again, that’s super bleak.
This is why emotions are stupid. Love is stupid. Romance doesn’t make any damn sense.
And yet, it’s all I think about now. More accurately, Jude is all I think about.
I constantly wonder what Jude’s up to, what they’re thinking, and how they’re feeling.
I catch myself daydreaming about what it would be like if Jude were with me.
I imagine their face, and my heart skips a beat.
I come across something that reminds me of them, and my cheeks flush.
I get a text from them, and my stomach flips.
It’s exhausting. It’s delightful. It’s agonizing. It’s wonderful.
It’s really fucking distracting.
Hopefully, the Thanksgiving scheme will get this all out of my system. I’m actually counting on it, because if Jude joins my family for Thanksgiving, we’ll be back to being strictly platonic the very next day. I really shouldn’t dread that interaction more than the fake-dating one, but…here we are.
Stupid, stupid love.
Friday, November 21, 2025
“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. I probably shouldn’t have waited until the first day of our Thanksgiving break to tell Theo about this, but I’m grateful he’s busy driving us and can’t study my face as I say it. “I’m going to be Jude’s fake boyfriend for her shitty family over Thanksgiving.”
Theo shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the road. “Dude, that’s not a good idea at all.”
“Why not? It’s the perfect idea.”
“Because what if you enjoy it?”
I swallow. “Enjoy what? Being a boyfriend?”
“Being Jude’s boyfriend.”
I trill my lips dismissively. “Dude, I’m ace.”
“I know, but you’re not aromantic.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “How do you–”
“I looked into it because I was curious,” Theo explains with a shrug. “Plus, Caleb and I worry about you. Just because you don’t feel sexual attraction doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love.”
Fuck. “Well, I guess my cover’s blown, huh?”
Theo sighs. “So, you are into Jude, aren’t you?”
“Deeply,” I grumble. “Like, head-over-stupid-heels.” I shake my head. “It’s so dumb. Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, why did it have to be them?”
He laughs. “I know how that feels.”
I groan. “At least Caleb liked you back. Jude isn’t into dudes at all.”
Theo doesn’t reply.
“And, even if they were, we wouldn’t really be…compatible.”
“What?” Theo scoffs. “You’re crazy. You guys are super compatible.”
Gazing out the window, I shake my head. “They’re allo, meaning the opposite of ace. They like sex. It wouldn’t work because I wouldn’t be able to…give them that.”
Theo is quiet for what feels like an eternity. “Have you told them how you feel?” he finally asks.
I snort. “Absolutely not. It would ruin everything.” When Theo doesn’t respond, I continue.
“But it’s fine. The way I see it, I’ll get the lovey-dovey shit out of my system as their fake boyfriend for Thanksgiving, and then…
well, and then I’ll figure out how to get over it.
Try to crush on someone else. Maybe someone who’s also ace. ”
“You know sex isn’t everything, right?” Theo asks. “As an allo person, yeah, I find sex great, but it’s not the only thing keeping Caleb and me together. Far from it.”
“Sure, but if Caleb suddenly decided one day that he didn’t want to have sex anymore, wouldn’t that change things?”
Theo’s brows furrow as he considers it. “I’m probably not the best person to ask because Caleb and I have been together for two years and have had lots of sex.
On the one hand, it’s easy to say, ‘no way, we’d still be happy without sex,’ but on the other hand, of course it would change things because an established part of our relationship would suddenly be gone. So, I don’t know.”
I sigh, fidgeting with my bead bracelet.
“But what I do know,” Theo continues. “Is that you’re an amazing person, Oliver. You have a huge heart and so much love to give. You’re sincere, compassionate, and supportive. You’re dependable and fiercely protective of those you care about, almost to a fault.”
I snicker.
“You’re the real deal, dude. And if someone views your asexuality as a flaw or a dealbreaker, they’re morons, and you deserve so much better.”
“Thanks, Theo,” I say softly, working hard to hide the emotion in my voice. “You’re right, but you forgot to mention that I’m also a ridiculously hot comedic genius.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “There he is. That’s the Oliver I know and love.”
I grin widely. “The one and only! But seriously, thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Always, dude. Always.”
Wednesday, November 26, 2025
Oliver
hey um so what is the attire for tomorrow?
Jude
what do you mean? nothing specific
Oliver
yeah, but like…what do I wear?
Jude
whatever you want...?
Oliver
don’t say that because I can’t wear swim trunks and a top hat
Jude
ffs Oliver lmao
I mean, like, nice jeans and a button-down shirt is fine
Oliver
like, a solid button down? does it have to be long sleeves? does a Hawaiian shirt count as a button-down?
Jude
it’s November, why would you wear a Hawaiian shirt?
Oliver
idk!!! I’m panicking
Jude
bruh
“What are you doing?”
I jolt, dropping the five hangers holding dress pants onto the floor. Shit, those are probably ruined now—wrinkled and covered with cat hair. I turn to see Bella watching me from my doorway, a bemused look on her face. “Did you say something?” I ask.
Bella scoffs. “I asked what you were doing. It looks like a tornado came through here.”
Scooping up the ruined dress pants, I let out a sigh.
“I’m trying to figure out what to wear to my friend’s house tomorrow for Thanksgiving,” I explain.
“I don’t want to underdress because I don’t want them to think I’m a slob, but I also don’t want to overdress because I don’t want to come across as pretentious or snobby. ”
Bella steps inside. “What is your friend wearing?”
I open my mouth to answer, then frown. “Why would that matter?”
Bella stares at me like I’m an idiot. “So you can get a better sense of the vibe? Once you know their fit, you can plan yours around it. As long as you match their vibe, you won’t be under- or overdressed.”
I blink. “That’s genius, I’ll ask them.” I scroll up through their texts. “Oh, they also said ‘nice jeans and a button-down is fine.’”
Bella rolls her eyes. “Well, there’s your answer!”
“But what kind of button-down? What are ‘nice jeans’? I thought jeans were always casual?”
“Bruh.”
“That’s what they said!” I shout, shaking my phone. “What does that mean!?”
“Dude, chill,” Bella says, pushing me aside to reach the closet. “Scooch over. Let me see what we’re working with.”
Several minutes into Bella combing through my closet and criticizing my apparent lack of “normal” clothes, there’s a soft knock on the door. “What are y’all doing?” Charli asks.
“Go away, Charli, we’re busy,” Bella snaps.
“Whoa, that’s rude,” I say. “Bella’s helping me pick out an outfit for Thanksgiving at my friend’s house tomorrow.”
“Ooh, can I help?” Charli asks eagerly.
“No, you’ll just get in the way,” Bella says, voice muffled as she steps deeper into the closet.
I shake my head. “Of course you can help.” I point to a pile of socks dumped on my bed. “How about you pick out my socks and shoes after Bella picks out the shirt and pants?”
“Okay!” Charli beams.
Bella emerges with three pairs of dark jeans and two old dress shirts I swear I’ve never seen before. “Try these on,” she says flatly, shoving them toward me.
I examine the pants, checking the tags. “Ooh, I’m pretty sure I’ve had some of these since middle school. I don’t know why I still have them.”
“You should at least try them on,” Bella replies. “Otherwise, you’re cooked.”
With a sigh, I head into the bathroom. The first pair doesn’t even fit around my hips, and the legs of the second pair rise to my mid-calf.
The last pair—a crisp, dark navy denim—is the perfect length.
They’re markedly tighter around the waist than what I’m used to, but as I study my reflection in the mirror, I’m surprised at how nice they make my legs look.
They even give the illusion that I have a nice butt. Huh.
“How’s it going in there?” Bella calls through the door.
“Good, actually,” I answer. “The blue ones fit!”
“Let me see.”
I swing open the door to show them off, but Bella averts her eyes and exclaims, “Eww, put a shirt on!”
“Seriously?”
She throws a crumpled white tank top at my face.
I roll my eyes and toss the tank top on. “There, I’m covered. Happy?”
“Thank you.” She uncovers her eyes and looks me up and down. “Turn around.”
“Really? Looking at my butt is fine, but seeing me without a shirt is gross?”
“Do you want my help or not?”
My eyes flick to the ceiling, and with an annoyed sigh, I turn around for her.
“Hm,” Bella says flatly. “Now, put on this shirt, and this sweater.”
I frown at the burnt-orange sweater in Bella’s hands. “Isn’t it too hot for a sweater?”
Bella stares at me, unamused.
“Bella, if it’s hot, I’m going to sweat through it.”
“Wear extra deodorant, then.”
I pull the white button-down shirt off the hanger and slide it on, fumbling with the buttons until it’s fastened to the top. Reluctantly, I slip the rust-colored sweater over the shirt. Admittedly, it’s not a thick sweater, and if I’m generous with my antiperspirant, I should be fine.
“Wow!” Charli exclaims. “You look like a different person!”
I step back into the bathroom to see for myself—and holy shit. I do look like a different person. The brownish-orange of my sweater perfectly complements the deep navy of my jeans, and the white dress shirt underneath ties it all together.
“Who is this diva?” Bella muses, admiring my reflection beside me.
“Is it slay?” I ask.
Bella’s smile fades, and she rolls her eyes again. “You ruined it, unc.”
I furrow my brow, confused. “Unc?”
“Charli, it’s your turn,” Bella declares, flopping onto my bed and pulling out her phone.
Charli nods eagerly. “Okay, what about these?” She points to the nicest shoes I own—a pair of brown penny loafers.
“Sure,” I say. “Socks?”
Charli hands me her pick—brand-new argyle dress socks still with the Target tags. Shockingly, they’re blue and gold, not the exact right shade, but I think they might still work.
I slip on the socks and shoes, then look at the girls. “Well, what do y’all think?”
“Slay!” Charli shouts.
Reluctantly, Bella agrees. “Slay.”
“Slay!” I echo, pumping my fist.