finally here, almost five months later. told yall it was coming

eventually

honestly, this is more like a few bonus scenes thrown together than an epilogue,,, hope you enjoy

also heads up, whenever i preview the chapter some bits just disappear? so if it seems to cut off or jump in the middle of a scene, just hit refresh and it should come back

++++

My Dearest Liam,

We tried. We really did.

We wanted to stay up for you to make sure you got here safely and all. But my man, it is late, even for western time.

Sorry I can't welcome you with open arms, but I'm pretty sure I'm only half awake as I'm writing this, and Vanessa gets downright scary when she's sleepy.

She just smacked me. My point exactly.

I hope you got whatever closure you needed. I know this isn't easy, but I think this summer is going to be really good for you. If you need to vent or whatever, I'll be all ears tomorrow. I'll kick Vanessa out of the room and everything. For when we're overcome by our emotions and start spontaneously making out, of course.

She smacked me again. In the same spot.

Okay, I'm going to go to bed now. Make yourself at home. I'll give you the full tour tomorrow. Just one request: this place has four bedrooms. Vanessa and I are at the furthest end of the hall. If you love me at all, you'll take the one at the opposite end. Help a brother out.

Third smack. I think my bicep will be bruised tomorrow. This is a cry for help.

Goodnight, and welcome to California.

Your faithful lover, Bryan

p.s. Vanessa keeps asking me why I don't say all this in a text. I think I have to break up with her. Clearly she doesn't understand the bond we share. Maybe romance truly is dead.

p.p.s. I'm definitely gonna bruise.

I rolled my eyes at Bryan's note, taped to the inside of the front door. Jamie laughed under his breath as he read it, but his eyes were drooping, and I figured he would just about fall asleep on his feet if he didn't get to bed soon. You'd never guess he had just slept for most of the 8 hour flight to Long Beach.

     The sun had just begun to rise, and judging by the silence in the house, Bryan and Vanessa were still soundly asleep. I took Jamie's bag from him, afraid the extra weight might just topple him over, and guided him through the house to the bedroom we would be sharing. Or, well, I guided him to the kitchen, then the guest bathroom, then a storage closet, before I found the bedroom opposite Bryan's.

      Getting ready for bed in the en-suite managed to wake Jamie up a little. He sat himself on the edge of the comforter in just a t-shirt and boxers, and by the look on his face, he was only now processing that we were in California.

     "You're funny when you're tired," I teased. Jamie looked up from his lap to glare at me, but he couldn't hold it. He scoffed, mostly to himself, and said,

     "Well, fuck."

     "Very well-said, James. So eloquent, so nicely worded."

     Pressing his fingers to his temples, he blew out a bewildered puff of air and fixed me with wide eyes. "I'm in California," he said.

     "You're in California," I repeated.

     "I'm away from my parents."

     At the trace of a smile those words brought to his face, I couldn't help but smile myself. "Far, far away from your parents."

     "We did that."

     "We did, in fact, do that."

     "We're doing this," he said, gesturing between us, and his smile came into full view, bright despite his tired eyes.

     "Hell yeah we are," I said, patting the spot next to me on the bed. Jamie slid under the covers, still with that disbelief all over his face. When I kissed him, he leaned easily into it, holding me there a moment after we'd parted, smiling against me. It was perfect.

     Naturally, perfection was delicate.

    The glee slipped quietly off of Jamie's face and the moment shattered. He broke from my gaze to search for something, plucking his phone from the edge of the sheet. "I promised Penelope I'd text her when I got here.

     I watched him quietly, pressing a hand against his back as he typed out a message to his sister. A second later, his phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call. Jamie hesitated, then answered, forcing a smile.

    "Hey, Pip. What are you doing up so early?"

     "It's not all that early here, remember?" A goofy smile was plastered to her face, vibrant enough to match the tiny rainbows scattered across her pink pajama set. "Different time zones and all?"

     "Ah, right," Jamie said, letting out a sigh through his nose that was meant to pass for a laugh. "How could I forget?"

     "Is Liam there?" asked Penelope.

     "Right here." Jamie shifted the phone so I was in the shot. I scooted closer to make it easier, resting my chin on his shoulder.

     "Hi Penelope," I greeted, raising my hand in a wave.

     "Hi Liam! You both look so sleepy."

     Jamie rested his head against mine. He caught himself as his expression was falling and pushed the facade back into place. "Is everything alright, Pip? Why did you call?"

     Her smile seemed to falter, too. "I just miss you is all," she said. "I know it's stupid, I never saw you in the mornings anyways, but it still feels different. Not having you here."

     Jamie nodded, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. "I miss you too, so much already. I know all of this probably doesn't make sense to you right now, but I hope you can forgive me. For leaving."

     Penelope tilted her head, her short hair bouncing around her face. "I'm not mad at you."

     "I know. That's why you're so amazing."

      "Do you know when you'll be able to come visit?" Penelope asked. She didn't mean an ounce of harm, but Jamie's expression tightened when she said it.

     "I-- I don't know, Pip," he said, and I had half a mind to suggest we go to bed, but it wasn't my place. Fortunately, he realized it was time to tap out, and followed up by saying, "I think I'm going head to sleep now, okay?"

     Penelope frowned but nodded nonetheless. "Oh, alright. Bye bye, Daisy."

     "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you."

     "I love you too."

     Jamie hung up the call and turned to slump against my chest. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, lingering there.

     "I know this is shitty," I said, and that was it. No 'but', because there was none. It was just a really, really shitty situation.

     "Can we go to bed now?" Jamie murmured against me. Without answering, I eased down, extending one arm so he could curl up against my side.

I only slept for a few hours. Prying myself from Jamie, who had somehow wound himself around me like a pretzel, proved a challenge I had not properly trained for, but I managed to get up without waking him. I slipped out of the bedroom, shut the door as quietly as I could, and found my way to the living room with more difficulty than I'd like to admit. Bryan's Aunt's vacation house wasn't big enough to justify how much I was struggling.

     Bryan and Vanessa were on the couch when I entered, eating pancakes and watching Victorious with their backs facing me, so I took the opportunity that any best friend would. I snuck up behind Bryan and slapped my hands onto his shoulders, causing him to yelp and jump up, which in turn made Vanessa fall off the couch.

     I was too busy laughing my ass off to hear the curses Bryan sent my way. Vanessa was laughing, too, from the floor, and she had one of those laughs that made everyone around her laugh, so Bryan joined in the witch cackling soon enough.

     "Way to make an entrance, man," he said as he sobered, smacking me on the shoulder and pulling me into a one-armed hug.

     "If you think that was surprising, wait until I give you my news."

     Bryan raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

     I shied away from him, clasping my hands in front of me. "So, hypothetically speaking, how would you react if I told you Jamie and I are sort of kind of back together and I sort of kind of brought him here without letting it by you?"

     Bryan's jaw dropped. Vanessa shot upright from her place on the floor.

     "You're joking," said Bryan.

     "You're kidding," gaped Vanessa.

     "I'm not?" I said, chewing my lip sheepishly. Glancing at Bryan, I said, "Look, man, I know I should've asked, and it's totally not cool of me to just spring this on you, but-"

     "Oh fuck off, Bane," Bryan said, making the world's most dramatic display of rolling his eyes. "Literally shut the fuck up, because if the words 'I'm sorry' come out of your mouth, I'll have to punch it, and then your beau will be mad at me, which will overall be a really bad start to the trip."

     I didn't know how to respond that, so I just stammered around variations of 'um' for a few seconds before Bryan got impatient and continued. "I'm happy for you, man. And I'm happy for him for getting out of that place. I say, the more the merrier."

      Vanessa, who had made her way from the floor to the couch and was leaning over its back to look at me, cleared her throat. Her face was practically glowing. "So Jamie's here? Like, right now?"

     As if to answer her question, my boyfriend emerged from the hall, wearing my sweats even though I knew for a damn fact he had brought his own. He stopped dead in his tracks when three pairs of eyes shifted instantly to him.

     Blinking nervously, he said, "Um, hi."

     Vanessa jumped over the back of the couch, nearly barreling over me, and tackled Jamie in a hug I was sure he could feel in his bones. "You're shitting me!" she squealed, leaning back to look at his face. "Are you here all summer? Are you and Liam really--" she paused, glancing over her shoulder at me. "We can talk about that later. I'm so happy you're here, baby."

     She pulled him in for another crushing hug and he met my gaze over her shoulder, eyes alight with laughter. At least he was in a better mood.

     Vanessa let Jamie go and he locked eyes with Bryan, stopping in his tracks.

     "Uh, Bryan," he started apologetically, gesturing for the right words, but Bryan raised a hand and cut him off.

     "I'm happy you're here," he said, smiling reassuringly. Jamie's shoulders drooped with relief.

     "Not as happy as me," Vanessa sang. She slung an arm around Jamie, then pointed between me and Bryan. "You just saved me from a summer of being their third wheel."

We spent the start of the day getting acquainted with the house, unpacking our things and looking around. Bryan was most excited about the pantry full of snacks his aunt had left us. Jamie was most excited about the liquor cabinet.

    By late afternoon, Bryan was itching to get out onto the beach, and I was right there with him. The ocean was visible from the balcony, only a short walk away. Vanessa and Jamie were less enthusiastic, but arguing with Bryan and I when we teamed up was like arguing with a pair of bratty kids. I wasn't afraid to admit that. Regression was a very effective tactic.

     Jamie hadn't been joking about not liking sunscreen; getting him to put it on was a battle. Warnings of skin cancer and early aging didn't phase him in the slightest. I had my methods, though. Turns out, all it took was the threat of my abstinence. I was rubbing sunscreen into his back in seconds.

     We high-tailed it into the ocean. Or, Bryan and I did; Vanessa and Jamie followed begrudgingly. They whined as we waded into water that was too deep for either of them, but the complaints quickly stopped when Jamie realized it gave him an excuse to make me carry him. Vanessa followed his lead, and pretty soon she was clinging to Bryan's side like a sloth while Jamie hung against my chest with his legs around my hips. I sure as hell wasn't complaining. Neither was Bryan, until Vanessa dunked him.

     I think it dawned on all of us around the same time that we were about to spend nearly the entire summer at a house in Long Beach that had a pool, a fully-stocked liquor cabinet, and no parents. Soon enough we were all laughing, soaking up the sunlight and energy and freedom of it all.

    Jamie was mostly quiet, but from the candid smile he wore, he was enjoying himself. I got the feeling he was intimidated by Bryan, even though I knew he would rather swim into a rip current than admit it. I knew for a fact Bryan was intimidated by Jamie; he had told me so several times. I found it hilarious, because Jamie was tiny and Bryan was a teddy bear -- neither of them had anything to be intimidated over. Good thing they had a whole summer to figure it out.

     Once the sky started to change, the four of us laid a few towels down along the sand, a short distance from the water. While Vanessa and Bryan cozied up together a few feet away, sharing music through Vanessa's headphones, Jamie sat himself between my legs with his back against my chest.

     We watched the sunset. And maybe perfection wasn't so delicate, because right then, I felt like a meteor could appear on the horizon, and we'd hardly bat an eye. We would watch the end of the world together, and hell, it would be beautiful. Just another storm.

     Jamie leaned his head back against my shoulder and stared up at the sky. I wondered what he was looking for up there.

     I lifted one of my hands from his waist to toy with his hair. It felt different now, since he'd stopped bleaching it. Jamie's hair had always been soft, but now it was thicker, smoother, shinier. It brought out his eyes, and the faint freckles that had appeared across his nose and cheeks after being in the sun for hours.

    "You're gorgeous."

     A rosy blush joined the freckles on his cheeks, and he eased off of my shoulder so that he could turn his body to the side and face me.

    "I was just thinking," he said, reaching for one of my hands. "We haven't been like this," with his other hand, he gestured between us, "since winter break."

     Like this. Open. Out.

     Our relationship had been a secret the entire time we were together, except for that tiny pocket of time when we were in a different city and could be whoever we wanted. It had never really been a conversation for us. I wasn't ready to come out of the closet, and he never asked me to. We just fell into that routine. Like it was natural.

     And yet here we were, cuddled up in front of everyone, and I hadn't thought twice about it.

     Hiding had been an instinct. A fight or flight response.

     Now the danger was gone, and we could live the way we were meant to, instead of as a reaction to fear. This was natural.

     "This is how it's going to be from now on. Isn't that insane?"

     "Everything about this is insane," Jamie scoffed. "The fact that someone could be as kind to me as Bryan has, the fact that I have a boyfriend and a best friend and I'm in fucking California right now, that's insane. If you'd told me a year ago that I would be here right now . . ."

     Jamie trailed off, shifting back into his earlier position so he could watch the quickly darkening sky. Thinking he was finished, I turned my eyes to the sea, but a moment later he spoke again.

    "Do you remember that time you and I went out to the lake back home, and we got into that fight about love?"

    "You mean the time I took my baggage out on you and blew a bunch of bullshit in your face?" I could never forget it. The look Jamie had given me after I shouted at him . . .

     Jamie shook his head against my shoulder and sighed absentmindedly, eyes following a purple cloud. "It wasn't bullshit. It was harsh, and maybe unnecessary, but you were right. I was a hypocrite for trying to tell you about love when I didn't love myself. How did we get from there to here?" He slid his hands over mine where they rested against his stomach, tucking his fingers between mine. "I mean, you're . . ."

    "Crazy in love with you," I finished when he didn't, gratified by the way it made him smile.

     "Yeah, that," he said, and he was blushing again, and I was convinced he hadn't been this easily flustered when we first met, because there was no way I would've taken so long to fall for him if he had. "And I . . . well, I'm still working on it, but I think I'm starting to like myself a little more."

     I kissed Jamie's temple. "Good," I said. "That's really good."

    The whole day had been good. A good day, followed by a good night, full of good moments.

     There were a lot of those. Good moments.

    Like when we spent an ungodly amount of time sitting in the sweltering heat building a sand fortress ("This is no castle. That is slander. This is a fortress" - Bryan, about a hundred times that day). Or the time Vanessa forced us all to walk along the shore searching for seashells. The time we heard an ice cream truck and sprinted on bare feet down the hot street to catch it as it left. The time we met a group of college kids in a tourist shop and ended up partying with them that weekend, and the weekend after that. The time Vanessa and I attempted to teach Bryan and Jamie to longboard on the boardwalk. The time we snuck into a nearby high school's pool for the hell of it. The time we got tipsy and played card games in the living room, probably butchering the rules and definitely not giving a shit.

     The time Jamie and I slipped away after the others had fallen asleep to go skinny dipping. The time he mentioned in passing that he wanted to start working out more and I coaxed him into training with me (I doubted he would count that as a happy memory, but I found it vastly entertaining). The time we woke up at illegal-o-clock in the morning to sit where the waves just hit our feet and watch the sunrise. The time we went out at midnight to have a picnic under the stars and Jamie spotted a just-hatched sea turtle making its way toward the ocean. We stayed where we were, watching from a distance, but I could hardly focus on the turtle when Jamie looked the way he did, completely entranced, smiling to himself with glittering eyes.

     But there were bad moments, too.

    Moments when I started questioning, and wondering, and thinking in circles, worrying about what was to come. From here on out, the future was a big question mark, and no matter how optimistic I tried to be, my brain didn't bode well with not knowing.

    Moments when Jamie got to missing Penelope, or thinking about his parents, and suddenly he wasn't in the head-space to do much more than sit in bed and think himself into a hole.

     He started up online classes to make up for lost ground. It took some contact with his parents to get him signed up, but they were willing to provide whatever was necessary to keep him quietly out of their lives. School was its own monster; Jamie had spent all of his sophomore year and half of his junior year not caring about grades, but now that he was looking ahead, he couldn't ignore the failing scores on his transcripts. He spent much of his vacation with his eyes trained on the screen of my laptop and his fingers flipping through a book. He was overcompensating.

     So when Bryan and Vanessa were in the living room, playing games or making food or talking, I would often head into the bedroom and sit at Jamie's side, helping him where I could. When he got down about his family and his past, I held him against my side, asking him if he wanted to talk about it, finding something to lift his mood -- or at least distract him -- when he didn't.

    And when I got in my head worrying about what was to come for the two of us, or how Stevie and Jacob were holding up, or whether my mom was ever going to stop hating me, Jamie somehow always knew. He never crowded me when I was anxious, but he would bring me water and talk me down and run his fingers though my hair to soothe me.

     It wasn't exactly the careless senior summer from the movies. But for the first time, Jamie and I knew how to help each other. At least, we were learning. When we couldn't be enough, we had our best friends three doors down.

     And besides, Jamie and I had never been like the movies.

++++

When Stevie caught sight of us in the airport, she shouted embarrassingly loud and broke into a run. I braced myself for her embrace, already prepared to engulf her in a hug, but she zoomed right past me, making poor Jamie the victim of her attack.

     He seemed just as surprised as I was when she flung herself around him, squealing some excited nonsense I was too petty to listen to, but he was laughing and hugging her back as they stumbled backward.

     "Nice to see you too, sis," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Stevie was too busy rocking back and forth with Jamie to hear.

     "Aw, feeling left out, bub?"

     My chest went tight, and I whipped around at Jacob's unmistakable jeer. I couldn't bother to be phased by his teasing; I pulled a Stevie and nearly knocked him down.

     "I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!"

     "We figured an extra day couldn't hurt." It was my dad, coming up behind Jacob with a shit-eating grin. He got the same treatment as my brother, but he must have been expecting it, because he didn't even stumble when I hugged him.

     They were staying for the weekend to help me move in. They had already driven my things down to Stevie's, and when we got there, it was a group effort to move everything from my dad's car to the apartment. That was about all we did that Friday, though. It was already evening, so we ordered pizza and crammed into the living room to watch a movie. After several rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Jacob won the privilege of choosing the film, and we settled down to watch -- big shock -- Spiderman: Far From Home.

    Jamie was on the loveseat next to Stevie. I smiled to myself as she pulled a blanket up to their necks and he tucked against her side. I would never understand the weird, instant bond between them.

     My dad was taking up half of the couch with his legs, leaving Jacob and I to squeeze into the remaining space. As the intro to the movie played, I leaned over and asked in a hushed voice, "How was your summer? Hold up okay without me?"

     I had meant it as a joke, but Jacob only half-laughed. "It was fun. A lot of fun. But . . ." he stared down at his hands in his lap, "I guess I missed you, or whatever."

     His cheeks were red. Laughing quietly, I nudged his shoulder. "I missed you, too. Or whatever."

     They left for their hotel late that night and showed up early the next morning to help unpack my things. My dad cried at least three times doing it; now that I was leaving, he was extra-sensitive to any reminder of my childhood. Jacob proved to be about as helpful as Stevie's cat, Nemo. His method was to take things out of their box and toss them into arbitrary parts of the bedroom, leaving a mess the rest of us had to clean up. So really, he was less helpful than Nemo -- at least the cat had the decency to stay out of it.

     We went out for dinner that night, and at one point my dad ended up on this tangent about some old mathematical theory like the nerd he was. The look on his face when Jamie raised a point was reminiscent of a kid who had suddenly stumbled into Willy Wonka's factory. Next to me, Jamie seemed surprised himself, like he'd forgotten there was a point in his life where he'd actually liked that stuff. The tiny encouragement was enough to really get my dad going, and Jamie had no choice but to join in and humor him. He didn't seem to mind, though -- judging by his smug smile, he knew he had just earned some major brownie points.

     Sunday was free for us to do as we pleased around the city. We were out practically all day, and by the time we came back that evening, everyone was tired. Jacob convinced dad to let him stay the night, and just as I thought the latter was leaving, he came to me, asking if we could speak in private.

     Stevie's room was empty, so we sat down on the edge of her bed.

    "I just spoke to Jamie," he began.

     "Oh god," I groaned, fearing the worst. "You didn't give him the dad talk, did you?"

     He chuckled. "No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to know more about who he was and where he came from, so I asked him a few questions. One thing led to another, and he got to telling me about how the past few years have been for him, and the way his parents treated him, and I felt sick to my stomach hearing it because . . . well, that's what I did to you for so long."

     "Dad . . ." I said. We'd been over this; I was just glad to have him back. "It really wasn't. What Jamie had to deal with at home was so much worse."

     "It doesn't matter," he said. "I excluded you from my life. I made you feel like an outsider. I know you're going to say you already know this, but I'm sorry. I'm still trying to make it up to you. The thing is, I want to make it up to him, too."

     "To Jamie?" I asked with narrowed eyes. "What are you saying?"

    "I know I don't know him very well, and by no means do I think I can fill any, er, vacancy in his life. But he's been practically parentless since he was what, fifteen? I'm coming to you with this because I don't want to come off as intrusive or make any assumptions, but . . . I can't imagine what that must have done to him. And since you're starting therapy, I thought I would extend the offer. If he ever expresses interest in doing something like that, but money is an issue, tell him he can come to me, alright?"

     For a few seconds, I didn't know what to say. "I . . . I don't know if he would accept that."

    "I figured you might say that. Listen, it's just an offer, if he ever wants it. He can always pay me back in the future, or come do work for me over the summer or something, if he's hell-bent on that. I just don't think money should be the issue standing in the way of a person getting the help they need."

    "Can you afford that? To pay for therapy for two people on your own?"

     My dad shrugged. "For you, we have insurance, at least. And I won't be paying on my own. Your mother is helping."

     It took a long time for my head to wrap around his last words. I hadn't spoken to my mom once that summer. "Mom? She's-- what?"

     "When I told her about what's been going on with you, she practically jumped on the internet to learn more about what she could do. She still cares about you, Liam. She just needs time."

     "And what, I'm just supposed to wait around for her to decide to be a mom again and welcome her with open arms when she does?" I asked bitterly, leaning back on my palms.

    My dad put his hand on my shoulder. "Of course not. No one expects that from you. I just wanted you to know that somewhere up there, she's thinking about you."

     Sighing through my nose, I managed a nod. "Yeah. Okay."

    "So you'll let me know? On the therapy thing, I mean."

     "Of course," I said, shooting him a grateful smile. "Thanks, dad. That means a lot."

     He pulled me into a side hug, then stood to leave. "I'm going to head out. I'll see you in the morning. Make sure Jacob gets up on time, or I swear to god--"

     "He will," I laughed. "I promise."

     Jamie went to bed soon after my dad left, leaving Stevie, Jacob and I alone in the living room. Jacob disappeared into the kitchen, then came back with a clear glass bottle in his hands.

      Stevie's jaw dropped. "Is that--"

     "Vodka," Jacob said with a mischievous grin. "I wanna try it."

     "You're out of your mind!"

     Jacob made a face. "Oh come on, Stevie. I've never been drunk, and this is the last night I'll have with the two of you for who knows how long. I know you did way worse at sixteen. Both of you. Please?"

     Stevie and I exchanged a glance. Points had been made.

    She looked about ready to say no again. Something about her being the oldest and Jacob being the youngest, I guessed. Perks of being the middle child -- no one gave a shit what I did.

     "Well I, for one, would love to see what kind of drunk Jacob is," I admitted. Jacob's face lit up, and all eyes turned to Stevie.

     "You'll be hungover tomorrow. With dad."

     "Remember that time you came home high in the middle of the day and had a full conversation with dad before you remembered you should be hiding?" I mused. Stevie turned on me with a glare of the utmost betrayal, and Jacob snorted a laugh. "Just a thought."

     Sighing, Stevie finally gave in. "I'm a terrible influence," she said, not for the first time and probably not for the last.

     "But," Jacob quipped, "A super fun sister."

     She rolled her eyes, but her grin was starting to match his.

    We started on the couch, watching Anchorman and laughing progressively harder as we got more and more tipsy. When the movie ended, we stood up at the same time, thinking we were mostly all-there, only to realize just how gone we were when we practically tumbled over ourselves and each other.

     I don't know whose idea it was, but we ended up making some wonky-ass throwing stars out of paper and having a full ninja war, until Stevie had the sudden memory of the dance we choreographed together at the ripe ages of 11, 8, and 5, and we spent most of an hour trying to remember and recreate it. I was pretty sure someone took a video, so that would be fun to see in the morning.

     Jacob turned out to be a lightweight and a very energetic drunk. Once it got into his system, he was practically bouncing off the walls. He was always doing something, saying something. It was like he was on a sugar high.

     Just like a kid on a sugar high, he eventually crashed.

     "Guys, guys," he said, pointing vaguely between Stevie and I. Or at least trying to -- really, he pointed at the TV and the floor lamp. He flopped down onto the couch, burying himself in cushions. "Can I be honest with you? Like, real-talk for a second?"

    "'Course!" said Stevie, chipper as ever (she tended to be a happy drunk), throwing herself down next to him. I jumped onto the couch on Jacob's other side. "What's up, Jakey?"

     "Okay so like, I was really fucking lonely for a long time," he said, his lighter-than-air voice hardly matching the words that were coming out. "And then we made up." He poked me in the chest. "And wabam! Not so lonely! Actually kind of happy! And then you left for the summer, which is totally great, glad you had fun, and it was okay 'cause Stevie was home with me, and we were vibing, and everything was great!" Jacob said, laughing at himself.

     "But now you're both leaving," he said, and he was still laughing, but his expression had dropped. I watched the smile slip off of Stevie's face and felt mine go right with it. "And it'll be just me and mom and dad. I mean, dad's great, and mom is too, for now, 'cause she doesn't know, but it's still really fucking shitty being around her knowing how she would react if she knew I'm . . . whatever I am."

     "Oh, Jacob . . ." Stevie said, putting an arm around him and pulling him against her side.

     "So, moral of the story," Jacob said, clasping his hands together and turning his eyes to the ceiling, "is I don't know how the hell I'm going to cope without either of you there, and I'm scared shitless of going home tomorrow 'cause I don't wanna be alone again, and I'm freaking the fuck out."

     He tried to keep his voice easy, like it was nothing, but somewhere along the lines he gave up on pretending and let himself falter, hiding his face against Stevie's shoulder.

    "Hey," I said, taking one of his hands in mine. He lifted his head, and when he looked at me, his eyes were shiny. "I'm gonna make a promise to you now, so listen the fuck up. You are never gonna be alone like that again. We fucked up and let you feel that way for way too long, but we're here now, and we've always got your back, okay? We're gonna talk over the phone all the time, and if you need me, I swear to god Jacob I'll drive down at the drop of a hat."

    "That makes the two of us," Stevie added, rubbing up and down Jacob's back. "We're in your corner, Jakes. I would keep you here if I could, and if anything ever happens with mom, you better fucking believe I'll kidnap you if I have to. I know it's scary, but you're a strong kid, you'll get through it. And whenever you feel your strength failing, you've got reinforcements. Doesn't matter where we are, you'll always have us to lean on. Got it?"

    Jacob just nodded. Stevie pulled both of us into a hug, and I was pretty sure we were all crying.

++++

The start of the school year was a whole new beast.

    It was pretty ironic, really, that Jamie and I had been worried about seeing too much of each other if we lived together. We couldn't have been more wrong.

     I was in college and working as many hours as I could as a tutor. Jamie was starting his senior year at the local high school, taking more online classes, working at a smoothie shop, and figuring out college applications. We were lucky to be in the apartment at the same time during the day, and at nights, he was usually worn out.

     All of that, on top of everything else we were already dealing with.

     It was worth it.

     On a few lucky weekends we got phone calls from Vanessa claiming to have gotten a day with Penelope, and we drove down whenever we could. She was more than willing to offer her "babysitting" to steal Jamie some time and save him from dealing with his parents. The first time we went, Penelope was beside herself with shock at Jamie's appearance -- it wasn't until she pointed it out that I realized how much fuller his cheeks were now than when I'd met him. According to her he looked "happier," too. I wanted to say that was because he was finally seeing her again -- he hadn't stopped smiling since we'd arrived -- but it didn't matter. I went home feeling on top of the world. Her words were the best affirmation I could've asked for. That I was better for him now. That we were doing the right thing.

     This risk we were taking, it was tough, and it was stressful. Sometimes we fought. But at the end of the day, we always came back to each other. Whenever I came into our room to find that Jamie was already knocked out, I put my arm around him and fell asleep at his side, happy just to know he was there. And whenever Jamie had a pocket of time between his school and his work, he made sure he spent it with me, and we would go on walks outside and watch shows in the living room and try (without any success, ever) to teach Nemo tricks.

     Among other things.

    I clung to those little pockets of time. It was during them, when Jamie would lean over and kiss me and offer me a tired smile, that I knew. All of this -- all of the money and stress and work -- would pay off. We weren't leaving that up to fate. Fate had screwed us over too many times. We were making our own.

++++

Jamie wouldn't open his eyes.

    I placed a hand carefully against his bare side and guided him toward the mirror that spanned half of the wall. I turned him around so that his back was facing it and tapped his jaw with my index finger. "You know you have to look, right?"

    His eyes remained screwed shut, and he shook his head. "I don't think I can."

     I had to laugh. He was too damn cute.

    "Sure you can," I said, gently placing my hand over his, which held a simple hand mirror. Moving so that I was next to him, I bent to his eye level and raised the mirror, angling it so Jamie would see. When he still didn't open his eyes, I said, "Turn so you're facing me."

     Slowly, he turned his head.

     "Alright, now open your eyes," I coaxed, but Jamie shook his head again. "It's just me," I promised. "You're just looking at me."

     Jamie hesitated, then his eyes fluttered open. Blue and hazel stared at me, and even from this close, it was hard to tell what I was seeing in them.

     Smiling to comfort him, I said, "Alright, I'm going to count to three, and on three, you're going to look."

     After a few seconds, Jamie nodded.

     "One . . . two . . . three."

     With a good deal of effort, Jamie turned his eyes forward, staring directly into the mirror.

    His lips parted, a gasp slipping quietly through the gap.

    Reflected in the hand mirror was Jamie's back.

    Along his spine, starting between his shoulder blades and ending at his waist, was a new image. Or, a remade image. Where the outline of a wilting daisy had once stood, shriveled leaves and dry petals had been transformed. The artist had done an incredible job, using what was already there to create a different image. The same flower, but alive and in full bloom. The same flower, but with an entirely new meaning.

     It was still raised and red with irritation. But when I looked at Jamie, his eyes were brimming with tears.

    "It's perfect," he whispered. "It's . . ." he started, but his voice broke. Turning to the tattoo artist -- Fallon, a sweet lady in her mid 20s with bright pink hair and a septum piercing -- he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you. So much."

     She smiled at him, eyes bright with pride. "I'm glad you like it."

    Jamie looked into the mirror again. He covered his mouth with one hand, and the tears he'd been holding finally broke through. My heart felt like it was breaking, too, even though I knew this was a happy cry. I pulled him against me, careful to avoid his sore back.

     "I--I don't know what to say," he stammered. I could feel him shaking.

     "That's okay."

    Jamie raised his head from my shoulder. I moved my hands to cup the sides of his face, swiping away his tears with my thumbs. He stood on his toes to give me a short, smiling kiss.

     "I love you."

     "I love you, too," I said, wiping his cheeks once more. When I said it, I got this twisting feeling in my gut, and I finally understood what it meant to love someone so much it hurt.

    I glanced past him, into the mirror on the wall, for another look at his tattoo. A blooming daisy. New beginnings. A second chance.

    "Happy birthday, Jamie."

fin