Page 19

“I don’t,” Chris said. “Never have, never will.” He hesitated. Then, “If you’re anything like me, you’re probably a little worried about everything.”

“Still a fan of euphemisms, I see.”

Chris jostled him a little. “Nick.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

“I hope so. Because I mean it when I say I’ve got your back, Nicky. I know a lot of things are still up in the air—”

“That was also a euphemism.”

“—but life can’t stop just because of it. I want to be happy, you know? And Mateo makes me happy. It’s not about what he can do, but who he is as a person. And I happen to like that person a lot. The whole turning-his-body-into-electricity thing is just an added bonus.”

Nick sniffled. Regardless of what else he was, he was still a ridiculous romantic. And he could hear the sincerity in Chris’s words, so he had to ask the most important question. “Have you seen him perform in drag?”

Chris laughed. “I have. He’s… well. He’s something else. Both in and out of drag.”

“Then you have my blessing,” Nick announced magnanimously as he pulled away. “I know you were probably wondering about that, so rest easy in the knowledge that I approve, and you no longer have to hide in the closet. Shout your love from the rooftops, Chris.”

Chris paled, eyes wide and frantic. “No one said anything aboutlove—” A slow smile bloomed on his face. “Holy shit, you called me by my name. Twice.”

“I did,” Nick said. “You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I have a party to attend where I will most likely accidentally tell everyone what I’ve witnessed. I hope you didn’t expect me to keep this a secret. I have ADHD, so I tend to hyperfocus on things that confuse me. And this is very, very confusing.”

“You can’t use that as anexcuse—”

“That’s ableist, and I won’t stand for it. Of course I can.” And with that, he turned and exited the closet, about to bellow that he’d discovered new love and that it was as frightening as it was celebratory. But right before he did, he glanced back over his shoulder to see Mateo cupping Chris’s face, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. They looked… happy. Stupidly, wonderfully happy.

Nick decided that maybe others didn’t need to know about it, at least not yet, and probably not from him. Love, Nick knew, was like trust: a fragile thing that needed time to grow. But the more it did, the stronger it became, and he hoped they both found that in each other.

The backyard had been lit up with strings of lights hanging from the overhang on the back deck. The halogen lights from the large pool in the center of the backyard pulsed slowly, bright, then dark, bright, then dark. The air was sticky-warm, the coming night doing little to cool things down.

A long table had been set up at one end of the yard, covered in a white tablecloth, rows of flowers draped along the edges.In the middle of the table sat trays of food piled high, cuts of meat, vegetables, fancy little sandwiches stacked on top of each other. Coolers of beer and soda and bottles of water were buried in containers of melting ice.

Nick stood in the small patch of grass next to the pool, sipping on water, not wanting the caffeine from a soda given how jittery he felt. He couldn’t shake the thought that if there was someone out there who wanted to harm them, now would be the time to do it, seeing as how they’d all gathered in one place. Ifhewere an asshole villain, he’d use this opportunity to his full advantage. The fact that the Kensington driveway was gated would do little to keep a determined person out.

“You all right?” Mary Caplan asked him, frowning as she brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. She wore a pretty white dress that hugged her trim figure, her warm brown skin lovely in the low light. “You look a little pale.” She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

Nick shrugged as she dropped her hand. “You know how it is. Just thinking too hard.”

Rodney Caplan shook his head, his bushy mustache twitching, hands folded above the swell of his stomach pressing against the buttons of his dress shirt. It was still a little weird, seeing him out of uniform. “So, as per usual, then.”

“You know me,” Nick said, distracted. He looked around the backyard. Bob and Martha were filling their plates at the table. Seth and Gibby sat at the edge of the pool, pants rolled up, bare feet in the water, heads close together as they spoke. Jazz stood with her parents, who smiled at her as Jazz waved her hands excitedly. Trey and Aysha were with Chris, both of them grinning as the Rook watched Mateo moving between everyone, offering flutes of sparkling cider.

Nick pulled out his phone, frowning because he had no notifications. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad? They haven’t answered my texts.”

“Not since this afternoon,” Cap said. “Aaron called and letme know he had some paperwork to finish for a domestic abuse case we snagged. I’m sure your mom wanted to wait with him so they could come together.”

That made sense. Mom and Dad were always together, and Nick was relieved to know that the past months hadn’t changed that. “I’m sure it’s fine,” he said, trying to sound like he believed his own words. “She’s probably getting him ready. Dad can’t dress himself to save his life.”

“Please say that to his face and let me be there when you do,” Cap said.

“Done and done,” Nick said. “His left eye will do that twitchy thing it always does when I’m right. It happens a lot because I’m right all the time.”

Cap snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Nick. I seem to remember when—

“There they are,” Mary said, nudging her foot against Nick’s. “See? Right as rain.”

He followed her gaze, and there, coming through the double doors that led to the backyard, were Aaron and Jenny Bell, her arm hooked through his. They waved when they saw Nick, walking toward him. Dad wore a suit Nick had bought for him a few weeks back with his meager savings, with Mom’s help. Dad owned a bunch of suits, but Nick wanted him to have something that was new, given his recent change in careers. The three of them had spent an entire morning at a suit shop (the proprietor of the store eyeing Nick with disdain, given the condition the dead magician’s suit had been in when he returned it after prom), Dad trying on different outfits, Nick and Mom hissing and booing whenever he’d come out in a terrible suit, and they’d cheered when they’d found the right one. It was charcoal gray, the dress shirt open at the throat, tie missing. It’d cost more than Nick had expected, and Mom tried to say she’d help pay for it, but Nick was determined. Dad was trying, which meant Nick needed to as well.