Page 22

Chapter 22

The one where Jeff goes all in.

When I step off the plane in Reno that Friday night, I’m nervous as all hell. My stomach’s in knots, and I’m sweating like I just ran a marathon. Before I left LA, I did something big— huge —and I have no idea how Jamie’s going to react.

Jamie picks me up at the airport, and as we’re driving, I notice something’s off. He’s turned left onto a side street instead of heading right toward his apartment like usual.

“That’s the wrong way... Where are you going?” I ask, side-eyeing him.

He smirks, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel. “You’ll see. We’re making a stop.”

“It’s past ten. Nothing’s open,” I say, leaning back against the seat.

Jamie laughs, running a hand through his messy blonde hair as he turns the wheel. “Hey, have you ever lived here before or anything?” he teases, glancing at me with that familiar glint in his eye.

I can’t help but laugh too, even as my cheeks heat up. “Okay, fair point.” I forgot how many places around here stay open late. Or, like, all night.

It doesn’t take long for me to figure out where we’re headed. My heart drops a little when Jamie pulls into the parking lot of our old high school. The field lights cast a bluish glow across the grass, and I feel this weird wave of nostalgia hit me like a truck.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, peering out the passenger window at the empty stands and quiet field. Everything looks smaller than I remember.

Jamie doesn’t answer. He just parks the car near the dumpster—always the romantic—and grabs a backpack from the backseat before heading toward the football field.

“Dude... what are you doing?” I call after him, getting out of the car.

“Just follow me,” he says, laughing as he strides toward the chain-link fence. Without missing a beat, he climbs over it like it’s nothing, landing gracefully on the other side.

“Show-off,” I mutter, hesitating for a second before awkwardly scaling the fence myself. Naturally, I misjudge my height and land with a solid thud on the other side. Jamie’s already halfway across the field by the time I catch up, turning a corner behind the bleachers.

As I round the corner, I nearly run straight into him. “Oh... hey,” I mumble, my breath catching when he grabs me without warning, pulling me into a tight hug.

He hugs me so hard I lose my balance, and we both go tumbling onto the grass. The cold, damp ground presses against my back, even through my hoodie, but I don’t care. My heart’s racing, and all I can think about is Jamie’s weight on top of me and the way he’s laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I look up at him, grinning as he props himself on one elbow, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“What is this?” I ask, still skeptical but smiling.

Jamie’s smile softens, and he looks down at me like he’s seeing something he’s missed for years. “This is where I realized I was in love with you,” he says, his voice quiet but steady. “When I knew it wasn’t just a crush anymore... When I knew I was in deep trouble because you weren’t taking me seriously.”

I’m caught off guard by how open he’s being, but I don’t say anything. My chest feels tight as he leans down and kisses my forehead, lingering for just a second before meeting my eyes again.

“What year?” I ask, my voice softer now.

“Senior year. Right before prom and graduation. Right before you told me you were moving,” he says, the weight of his words settling between us.

I wince a little, the memory of that time hitting me like a gut punch. Senior year’s mostly a blur—a mess of stress, mistakes, and trying to keep it together. I don’t remember much, but I remember telling Jamie I was leaving.

“You pulled me under here after everyone started leaving, after the game was over and we won,” Jamie says, his voice breaking through my thoughts. “You hugged me for a long time... I loved it. You told me I was the best player. You said a lot of really sweet things when you kissed me then... You were really happy we won. I think you were just high off the adrenaline, but it was cute. You’d never been so sweet to me before.”

He looks a little unsure now, like he’s afraid he’s said too much. I feel my cheeks heat up, but I can’t look away.

“I remember that,” I murmur. “You played so well that day.”

Jamie smiles, but it’s faint. “You usually didn’t talk at all when we made out... but that day, you kept saying all these sweet things. It was so romantic. You made me feel like I was yours. That’s when I knew I loved you and wanted you to be that happy forever, no matter if it was with me or not.”

My throat tightens, and I don’t know what to say, so I let him keep going.

Jamie takes a deep breath, his voice quieter now. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but... I think it was good that you moved.”

My expression darkens instantly. “What? Why the hell would you say that?”

“Because it forced me to stop and think,” he says, meeting my eyes with a look so steady it makes me pause. “It forced me to accept myself—my sexuality—and how I felt about you. Honestly, Jeff, if you had stayed after graduation... I think I would’ve scared you away so fast.”

Jamie’s gaze locks onto mine, and I can’t look away. Those eyes—they’ve always had this way of pulling me in, but tonight, they’ve got me completely lost. I want to kiss him. He looks so beautiful under the moonlight, the stark white glow of the streetlamp catching in his hair, softening every line of his face. And he’s sharing his thoughts with me, just laying them out there like this is easy for him now.

I love this side of Jamie. The way he’s been opening up more lately. He’s the most patient, loving, hardworking, and fun person I’ve ever met, and I’m hopelessly, stupidly in love with him.

Whatever happened to bring us back here, together behind the bleachers as a couple, I’m grateful for it.

“…Is this too much?” Jamie asks, his voice dipping with uncertainty, his eyebrows creasing just slightly. “Is this fucking corny?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Jamie, I love that you actually talk to me now… Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

His lips twitch into a smile, soft and genuine. He runs a hand through my hair, and then finally, finally, he leans down to kiss me. His lips are warm, familiar, and I can’t help myself—I reach up and cup the back of his head, pulling him closer.

When I break away, my heart’s pounding, and I blurt out the thing I’ve been holding in for days. “I put in my two weeks' notice at my job yesterday.”

Jamie blinks at me, his expression flickering between confusion and disbelief. “What?”

“I quit my job.” My hand rests on his thigh, steadying both of us as I look up into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He sits up straighter, creating a little space between us, and I can tell by the look on his face that he’s trying to process what I just said. “Jeff... Why? We didn’t even talk about this.”

“I don’t care,” I say, shaking my head. “Jamie, you’d never ask me to do that. I did it because I don’t want this anymore—the distance. It sucks. I know you hate it, too. You’ve never wanted this kind of relationship.”

I grab his hands, pressing them flat against my chest so he can feel the way my heart is hammering. “You told me before any of this started that you weren’t into long-distance relationships, but you did it anyway. For me. You’ve never even brought it up, Jamie, not once. So I quit my job for you.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything for a while. His silence makes my pulse race even harder. I wonder if he can feel it under his hands.

“…You hate Nevada,” he finally says, his voice breaking the stillness.

“It’s worth it.”

“…You can’t surf here. You’ve been surfing almost every day.”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I’ll visit once in a while, bring my surfboard. It doesn’t matter.”

His eyes start to well up, and I notice, even in the dim light. His breathing’s picking up, fast and shallow, and my stomach twists in knots. Is he mad? Is he about to flip out on me? The thought of him being upset makes me nauseous.

I don’t know what to say to calm him down, so I just hold his hands tighter.

"Lucy isn’t here."

“Dude, who cares?” I say, shaking my head. “I’ll visit once in a while, hang out with Lucy, and surf. It won’t be like this. This has to be reversed, Jamie. Besides, Lucy might be leaving to be with Nichole sooner than expected… She’s got her own thing going on now.”

Jamie finally smiles, but his eyes are still glassy, filled with unshed tears. It’s the kind of smile that tugs at my heart, the kind that says he’s happy but still breaking inside.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks softly.

I give him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean...” He hesitates, his voice trembling. “What if you get depressed about being here? What if you miss Lucy more than you think you will? What if you regret everything, regret being with me? What if—”

“Stop.”

Jamie’s tears spill over now, streaming down his cheeks, and it guts me. I can’t take it—can’t take seeing him like this.

“Stop acting like I’m not sure if I love you,” I say firmly, my voice shaking. “Like I don’t know what I’m doing. Just... stop.”

I almost say something dumb, like calling him an idiot or stupid, but I catch myself. Jamie doesn’t like that, not when he's opening up to me. I’m proud of myself for catching it, even now, with everything swirling in my head.

I reach up, grab the hood of his white hoodie, and gently tug him down until he falls onto me. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I squeeze him tight against my chest, holding him like I’ll never let go.

“I love you, Jamie.” My breath hangs in the cold night air, visible between us. “I love you so much. Please be okay with this. I don’t want to be without you anymore. Don’t make me live without you anymore. Please... please let me do this.”

My voice cracks on the last word, and I tighten my grip on him, hoping he feels everything I’m trying to say—the desperation, the certainty, the ache of needing him.

Jamie sighs against me, and I feel the full weight of his head on my chest. His fingers slide through my hair, slow and comforting, but he’s still crying, so I stay quiet and let him.

Minutes pass, and I can’t stand the silence anymore. “…Are you mad at me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jamie lifts his head, his red, glassy eyes meeting mine. “What?”

“Are you mad at me?” I repeat, my heart pounding.

Jamie laughs, soft and warm, and then he leans down and starts kissing me all over my face—my forehead, my cheeks, my nose—each one soothing the ache in my chest.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine.

I bring a hand up to his face, my thumb stroking his cheek. How does someone like Jamie even exist?

“I love you, Jeff,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m crying because... I don’t know how. I don’t know how I got you.”

I laugh, lightheaded with relief, and drag my thumb over his bottom lip. “What?”

Jamie smiles, his big, goofy, gorgeous smile that completely undoes me.

“I don’t know how I finally got you.”

“Jamie,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You always had me... You’re something special, remember?”

His smile widens, and I swear, I’m about to melt into the grass right here and now.

We stay like that, tangled up in each other, lying in the cold grass for at least an hour. We talk about everything, kissing in between every other sentence, while Jamie digs snacks and a bottle of whiskey out of his backpack.

I guess he’d planned for us to drink and reminisce about the good times, but Jamie didn’t realize something important—those weren’t the good times.

These are.

I might not have remembered pulling Jamie behind the bleachers in senior year at first, but I know for a fact I’ll remember this night forever.

The plan today is to visit my parents, which is... not my usual routine when I’m in town seeing Jamie. I haven’t seen them in a while, and honestly, I usually avoid stopping by. Every time I’m here and don’t say hi, the guilt eats at me. My mom doesn’t know how many times I’ve been in town without visiting, but if she did, I’m pretty sure she’d be crushed.

And today? It’s even worse because I’m planning to tell them about Jamie. I keep reminding myself it doesn’t matter what they think—this is my life—but my stomach’s in knots as we pull into the driveway.

“Are you sure, Jeff? You want to do this in person, with me here?” Jamie asks, glancing at me from the driver's side as he slows the car.

“Yeah,” I mutter, staring at the house like it’s some kind of haunted fortress. “I don’t want to do it by myself.”

Jamie nods and cuts the engine. I lean over from the passenger seat and kiss him quickly, his smile brushing against mine. For a second, I feel less like I’m about to walk into an ambush.

But then, of course, my mom steps out onto the front porch.

How does she always know when I pull into the driveway? Do they have a motion detector out here or something?

She’s already running toward us, her arms wide open. “Oh, my baby, I can’t believe you came to say hi!” she practically sings, wrapping me in one of her trademark bone-crushing hugs.

I glance at Jamie over her shoulder, my face definitely broadcasting pure panic. He just smiles back at me, tilting his head slightly like he’s enjoying the show. Damn it. He’s so good at this. How does none of this faze him?

She hugs Jamie next, gushing about how glad she is to see him before ushering us both inside.

My dad’s in his recliner in front of the TV—classic Dad move. Jamie and I sit on the couch while my mom takes the other recliner across from us. It feels a little too much like an interrogation room for comfort.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“Mmm.”

I smile. That’s about all I ever get from him, but it’s never bothered me. He loves me in his own quiet way, and I’ve always appreciated that he gives me space.

“So, what’s new with you?” my mom asks, pouring coffee from the pitcher on the coffee table. I glance at Jamie, silently pleading for him to jump in and save me with that effortless charm of his, like he always does. But nope—he just raises his eyebrows at me, his smirk practically screaming that I'm on my own here.

Damn.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it—I swear my heart might beat right out of my chest.

“I’ve been thinking about moving back home for a while,” I start, my voice wavering. “And I finally put in my two weeks at work yesterday.”

My mom’s face lights up. She starts to get up to hug me, but I hold out a hand to stop her.

“Mom, wait. There’s something else I need to tell you before you get all excited. Sit down.”

She hesitates but sits back down, her expression a mix of confusion and anticipation.

“I’m…” I trail off, looking at Jamie for support. To my surprise, his face is a little flushed, and he darts his eyes upward for a second before grinning at me.

I feel like a kid again, confessing to my mom about some dumb thing I did in school with Jamie, bracing for the inevitable lecture. Why does it feel like this?

I’m on the verge of throwing up when Jamie slides his hand across the couch cushion and takes mine. His fingers interlace with mine, steady and sure, and suddenly, I feel a whole lot better.

Way, way better.

Jamie squeezes my hand, his smile soft and reassuring. I take a breath and turn back to my mom.

“Jamie and I are... well, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now—” I stop myself mid-sentence.

No. I’m doing it again. Enough of that. No more dodging, no more dancing around the truth.

"Jamie is my boyfriend," I say with conviction. "We've been in a long-distance relationship for a few months, but I'm moving back home for him. I want us to be together—we're going to build a life together."

I glance at Jamie, and he gives me a smile that makes me feel like everything might actually be okay. Then I turn back to my mom.

“I love him.” I pause, the words hanging in the air, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Not even close. “Actually, I don’t just love him… I love him. Like, can’t-function-without-him love. He makes me better in every way, he always has, and honestly, I think making him happy might be the only sure thing I’ve ever known in my entire life. I just… I wanted you guys to know.”

“Who cares, ya’ big sap,” my dad grumbles from his chair, still not looking away from the TV.

It’s like a record scratches in my brain. My jaw drops, and I feel my heart go into overdrive. “What the hell did you just say?!”

Jamie bites his lip, clearly fighting back laughter, while my mom turns to my dad with a glare so fiery it might actually incinerate him. “Oh, hun, we kind of knew that already. That’s old news—is what he meant to say,” she snaps, the emphasis so sharp it makes my dad shift uncomfortably in his chair.

“What? What do you mean, you knew?” My head whips toward Jamie, desperate for some kind of sanity check here, but he just gives me that serene little smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he shrugs like this is all perfectly normal. Completely unbothered.

“I mean, we figured as much,” my mom continues casually, taking a long sip of her coffee like we’re talking about the weather. “Lucy mentioned a few things about you and Jamie when she came to visit... I can take a hint, you know. She’s such a sweetheart.”

Damn it. I forgot I left Lucy unsupervised with my parents on that trip. Rookie mistake.

“It was my fault she started insinuating things between you two,” my mom adds, tilting her head with a look that’s probably supposed to come off as apologetic, but she’s clearly enjoying herself way too much. “I thought maybe you and Lucy had a secret love.”

“A secret love ?” I repeat, staring at her like she’s grown a second head. “Mom, what the hell even is a secret love?”

She shrugs, completely unfazed, like she hasn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever. “You know... something dramatic. Forbidden. Very Romeo and Juliet. I mean, I wasn’t wrong, I just didn’t realize Jamie was playing Juliet in this scenario. And, well, we definitely won’t mention the fact that the story was a tragedy and not a romance…”

I groan as she rambles on, dragging my hand down my face, while Jamie bites his lip, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. I glare at him, but that just makes him lose it completely, doubling over as his laugh fills the room. Great. Perfect. This is exactly what I needed.

“Lucy opened my eyes to quite a bit during her visit. And Howard’s too,” Mom says, gesturing toward my dad.

I glance at him—still glued to the TV like always. I almost forgot he was there until he scared the crap out of me earlier.

“It’s not a big deal, son,” my dad mumbles awkwardly, shifting in his recliner and grabbing the remote to turn up the volume on the game. “Let’s just stop talking about it.”

My mom rolls her eyes and stands up, leaning over to place her hand on my head. “We love you, hun... both of you,” she says warmly, ruffling my hair before sitting back down.

“...Can we come here for Thanksgiving this year?” I ask, still reeling from the whiplash of this conversation.

Her face lights up. “Oh! We can do a potluck! Jeff, I already spoke to the neighbors, and they can’t make it this year, so maybe we can invite Lucy over too. She can bring the pumpkin pie.”

“We can bring an appetizer,” Jamie chimes in, like he’s suddenly part of the planning committee. “Or, Jeff, should we bring that dip you make? The one with the chives? It’s really good.”

What the hell is happening right now?

I just came out to my parents—a moment I’ve been dreading and overthinking for months—and now we’re talking about Thanksgiving food like it’s no big deal.

By the time Jamie and I are back in the car, I’m sitting there, still trying to process everything.

“Well, that went well,” Jamie says, starting the engine and putting on his seatbelt.

“How did they know?” I mumble, staring out the window at the house I grew up in. My eyes drift to my old bedroom window, the one I used to sneak out of back in high school.

Jamie laughs. “Something I’ve learned? Most of the time, your sexuality isn’t as much of a secret as you think it is.”

“Did your parents know, when you came out?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

“Oh yeah,” Jamie says, smiling like it’s no big deal. “They knew. I came out when I was dating Brandon, so by the time I told them, it wasn’t exactly breaking news. Your mom actually found out about me back then too. My mom let it slip when we were all hanging out one day. So, yeah... she’s known about me for a long time.”

Jamie laughs, squeezing my hand as he glances at me. “Jeff, both your best friends are queer. I don’t know what kind of reaction you were expecting from your parents, you adorable idiot, but I hope you feel better now. Isn’t it a relief?”

I let out a breath, the weight of the day finally starting to lift.

“I’m really glad I did that with you here,” I tell him, the words coming out soft but steady. “Thank you.” I mean it—more than I can even put into words.

Jamie smiles, his fingers now lacing perfectly with mine, like they were always meant to fit. Like some cosmic joke decided that no one else's hand would ever feel quite right in mine but his. I’m pretty sure they were designed that way, the same way he fits into my arms, the same way he gets me perfectly, in ways no one else ever has and no one else ever will.

“You’re welcome,” he says simply, his voice warm and full of love. The weight of those two words carries all the reassurance and safety I’ll ever need.

We fall into a comfortable silence as he drives, the quiet hum of the red Mercedes and the faint glow of the dashboard lights creating a cocoon around us. I glance out the window at the familiar streets of my hometown, feeling something I haven’t felt in years: peace.

Jamie’s thumb brushes against the back of my hand, pulling my attention back to him. His focus is on the road, but there’s a small, knowing smile on his face, like he can sense exactly what I’m feeling.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With him.

Home.