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Jackson follows my gaze and smiles. “No, but he’sobsessedwith astronomy. I think I’ve learned more about black holes and supernovas this year than I have in my entire life. It’s pretty cool stuff, even if I don’t understand three-quarters of it.”

“Where is he? It’s still pretty early.”

“He had to go home for a family thing. He’s supposed to be back sometime today.”

We settle into a comfortable silence, and I’m tempted to say, “Well, this was nice. Good catching up with you, Jackson. See youlater!” but that would be unfair to Elliot. He needs help, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Jackson probably thinks I’m being weird, but now’s not the time to be self-conscious. Elliot is depending on me. Granted, he doesn’t know he is, but I figure it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. “Last night, I discovered something about Elliot, and now I need your help.”

I study Jackson’s face as I recount what happened last night and this morning. At first, there’s a flicker of confusion—his brows knit together as he processes what I’m telling him. Then shock hits him as understanding dawns, and he gasps dramatically.

“Wait, what?!” He shoots to his feet. “Elliot’s been living in the library for two years? How is that even possible? Aren’t security supposed to patrol the campus twenty-four seven? What the hell are we paying them for? To play Go-fucking-Fish?”

I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine, dude.”

Jackson paces his room, hands on his hips and a mutinous expression on his face. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I knew he spent most of his time at the library, but I chalked it up to him being a workaholic. I never imagined?—”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. Elliot’s clearly a master at keeping secrets. We still wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t followed him last night.”

Jackson gasps again as his hands fly to his hair. “Holy shit! Elliot is the mystery man!”

I blush. Why am I not surprised that Jackson follows the Ice Queen? She’s not a figment of my imagination or anything.

“Yes, he is.” I avoid Jackson’s scrutinizing gaze and stare down at his bare feet instead. They’re big, but mine are bigger. I don’t know why I fixate on that, but I do.

Jackson gasps again. “Oh my God! You like him! You like Elliot!”

My face turns redder than Mars. Revealing myaffection for Elliot to his best friend wasn’t the plan. Considering Jackson is practically Elliot’s surrogate brother, I know the stakes. If someone were infatuated with my sister, I’d be freaking out too. “No comment.”

“Wow,” Jackson says after a long moment. “Just…wow. I didnotsee that coming. So, you’re bi?”

“I guess,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m still figuring that out. But when I see Elliot and think about him, I don’t think about pronouns or what’s between his legs. I think about wanting to be with him, making him smile, roll his eyes, and make him—what? Is there something on my face?”

I swipe at my nose, fearing I might have a booger, but I don’t. So, why is Jackson grinning like The Joker?

“Gerard, you don’t justlikeElliot. You’re crushing on him and want him to be yourboyfriend.”

Huh.Can I see myself walking across campus holding Elliot’s hand, going to dinner and seeing a movie, or cuddling in bed? Yes, yes, yes, and…yes.

Oh, wow.I guess I do want him to be my boyfriend. But the bigger question is whether Elliot wants that, too. Sure, he likes my hands. But does he likeme?

I shake my head. Somehow, the conversation has veered from Elliot’s homelessness to my sexuality. Now is not the time to decide whether I want to explore my feelings for Elliot. I can do that later, alone in my room. Maybe with my dick in my hand—it’s been a day since I last came, sue me.

“Can we focus on what’s important right now?” I ask. “What are we gonna do about Elliot’s living situation?”

“You’re right, sorry. We need to figure something out. He can’t keep living in the library, that’s for damn sure.”

We spend the next ten minutes brainstorming. If Jackson didn’t have a roommate or lived alone, we’d be like Ariana Grande and have one less, one less problem.

“Hey!” Jackson breaks the silence, startling me. “Sorry. Are you able to squeeze another guy into the Hockey House?”

“We totally can…as long as the other guys agree with it. Knowing Oliver, it’ll be put up for a vote.”

“Alright. Then we should give that a try. In the meantime, what are you going to do about the Ice Queen?”

“What do you mean?”

“If she gets wind of this…”