Page 6

Chapter 6

The one where Jeff is stubborn (and jealous).

Lucy doesn’t seem to have noticed my little accident. Thank God.

I manage to gather up my soiled sheets, shoving them into the wash with a few other random items to avoid suspicion. Halfway through, Mom catches me in the act. Despite my protests that I’ve got it under control, she takes over with a mix of concern and amusement, grumbling about me doing chores on my vacation. She expertly sets the machine and hits start, shaking her head.

Mom might have her embarrassing moments, but she’s got my back like no one else. I know I’m lucky—it could be way worse.

When I get back to the kitchen, Lucy is already seated, halfway through a stack of pancakes. She kicks me lightly under the table, her eyes practically daring me to squirm.

“Hey,” she says with a smirk, looking up from her plate. “You never told me what happened at Jamie’s.”

Her grin widens, and I swear Jamie’s name is a weapon she wields expertly. My face burns, betraying me instantly.

“It was fine,” I mumble, shoving a forkful of pancake into my mouth. The carbs help. A little. I’m starving, probably from the nerves that still haven’t settled since last night.

“Tell me now!” Lucy presses, kicking me again, this time harder.

“Ow! Shit, dude, cut it out!” I grab my glass of orange juice and pretend to throw it at her, making her flinch dramatically.

She rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they stay in her head. “Just tell me! Was it good or bad? At least give me that.”

“It was…” The words stick in my throat. How the hell do I even explain? “Dammit, Lucy, I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Jeff!” She leans in closer, her fingers gripping my forearm like a vice. I wince, jerking back.

“Did something happen?”

I glance around, desperate for an escape. “...Kinda.”

Her eyes narrow, laser-focused on my face like she’s trying to pull the truth straight out of my brain.

“Okay, yes… Yes, okay?!” I throw my hands up, flustered. “It’s none of your business.”

There’s no real bite to my words, and she knows it. Her eyes sparkle with triumph, but she keeps her grin subtle, like she’s savoring the victory. “That’s all I wanted to know. Thank you very much.”

I glare at her, stuffing another forkful of pancake into my mouth to hide my scowl. She smirks one last time before heading to the sink to rinse her plate.

As soon as her back is turned, I sneak my phone out under the table. My stomach twists with anticipation, hoping—praying—for a message from Jamie.

Instead, my screen lights up with several unread texts from Tiffany.

Wait.

Shit.

I’d called her when we first arrived, but I haven’t reached out since. She’s going to be furious. I can already picture her annoyed look, her voice sharp and disappointed. I need to fix this before it gets worse.

“I’m gonna call Tiffany,” I mumble, standing so fast my chair scrapes loudly against the floor. I don’t wait for Lucy’s response as I step outside, the sliding door rattling shut behind me.

The cool air doesn’t help settle the anxiety twisting in my chest.

“You in the doghouse or something?” Lucy calls after me, her tone dripping with amusement. “Does she know where you were last night?”

I flip her off without looking back.

In the backyard, I pace nervously, phone pressed to my ear. Just as I’m sure the call will go to voicemail, Tiffany picks up.

“Hey, babe!” Her voice is bright, cheerful, and completely unexpected.

“Hey, Tiff…”

Her enthusiasm throws me off, but maybe she’s just been busy with family stuff. She’s with her parents and her siblings—a four-brothers-and-one-sister kind of chaos I can’t relate to as an only child. Jamie’s the same. Maybe that’s why we clicked so easily growing up... He’s the closest thing I ever had to that kind of bond. That thought settles me a little. She probably hasn’t had time to stew over my radio silence.

“How’s your Mom and Dad?” she asks.

“They’re good,” I say, forcing a chuckle. “Stayed up late playing board games with Lucy. They weren’t thrilled about me leaving so soon, though.”

“Aw, they’re adorable. Tell them I said hi, okay?”

“Yeah…” I hesitate. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I—”

“Oh, babe, it’s fine,” she cuts in. “I’ve been swamped here anyway. My stupid sister’s been driving me crazy, and I just wanted to chat. No biggie. What board game did you play last night?”

I freeze. Should I correct her? I wasn’t even there.

Thankfully, she doesn’t wait for an answer, launching into a detailed rant about her sister and her parents, bouncing from one topic to another like a runaway train. That’s just Tiffany—talking in circles, losing herself in her own whirlwind.

I listen, or at least try to. For thirty solid minutes, I’m trapped in her endless monologue, unable to get a word in. Boredom and frustration build with every second.

It’s annoying. She probably thinks I’m just being my usual quiet self, but I actually have a lot to say. Things I need to say. But I can’t find a way to break in, to steer this conversation toward anything meaningful.

No more secrets. No more letting things fester. I promised myself that.

But tonight isn’t the night. I’ll tell her in person.

“Anyway,” Tiffany finally says, slowing down after what feels like hours. “Please be safe driving home tonight, okay? Leaving after dinner will get you back around 3 a.m., right? Call me when you’re at your dorm. I’ll try to stay awake.”

She’s always so worried about me. I sigh, torn between affection and frustration.

Then my phone pings against my ear, and my heart skips.

Jamie.

Did he text me? Does he want to hang out again?

“Okay, okay. Bye, Tiff.”

“Bye, baby!” she sings, adding a kissy sound.

I hang up and glance at my phone. Jamie. My heart jumps as I open the text.

Jamie : Yo.

I laugh under my breath, running a hand through my hair. Tiffany could fill hours with chatter, but Jamie’s clipped messages? They’re… refreshing. It reminds me of that first night we texted—quick exchanges, no fluff, just easy.

Jeff : Yo.

As Jamie’s name pops up as "typing," I grip my phone tighter, anticipation buzzing in my chest.

“Honey,” Mom’s voice cuts through the moment, startling me. I glance up as she steps outside, her hands on her hips. “I was thinking we could grab some family dinners from Boston Market for tonight. We’re inviting the Bernards from next door—they’d love to see you again!”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

Perfect. A nostalgic dinner party with neighbors I barely remember. I hate this kind of thing, but for Mom? Fine.

Dad’s no help in these situations. I love him, but he’s not exactly hands-on. He’s the quiet type—an occasional “atta-boy” here and there, but mostly he just lets Mom run the show. When he’s home, he’s parked in his recliner, watching TV and winding down from work. Mom’s the energy; Dad’s the silence.

I used to wonder if their dynamic would last. Back in high school, when they separated, I thought it was over. Mom needed space, and Dad didn’t even try to fight for her. It shook me more than I let on—seeing the two people who were my whole world start to unravel.

I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve always been close to them, even if it’s hard to tell now that I’ve moved so far away. They’re my anchors, in their own way. Watching their marriage almost fall apart felt like losing the ground under my feet.

But somehow, they found their way back. Date nights, flowers, counseling—the whole cliché package. I thought it was cheesy back then, but seeing Mom happy now? I can’t hate it.

Dad? I never really knew what he thought about any of it. We don’t talk like that—not about feelings, anyway. He’s always been the silent, steady type, content to let Mom take the lead. I wish we were closer. Maybe if I hadn’t left, things would be different.

Mom pokes her head back out, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Oh! Do you want to invite James for dinner?”

What?

What?!

I freeze, my brain stalling. Then I take a deep breath. Right. Totally normal question. Calm down, Jeff.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say, forcing my voice to sound casual.

I hadn’t expected to see Jamie again on this trip, let alone over dinner. My stomach churns with a cocktail of emotions: excited, nervous, maybe a little terrified. Apprehensive, hot and bothered, ashamed, giddy—and wondering what pants he was going to wear before catching myself thinking about parts of him I wasn’t supposed to. Basically, a mess.

“Have him bring some red wine. And maybe a white, too,” Mom calls, already planning it all out. “Oh, I can’t believe you two are 21 now,” she sighs wistfully. “Getting old so fast…”

“Stop, Mom,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “We’re 22. Have been for a while.”

“Oh, hush,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You’re always my baby, no matter how old you get.”

Not like we hadn’t been drinking before this anyway. She’s so oblivious. As she heads back inside, I glance at my phone again. I’m still waiting for Jamie’s response—until, after what feels like an eternity, it finally comes through.

Jamie : I want to see you again before you leave. Please?

My face flushes as I stare at Jamie’s message. He really wants to see me again before I leave.

My hands feel sweaty, my chest tight. Why does he always have this effect on me? Back when we were in school, I wasn’t awkward—not with him, not with anyone. I was mister super confident, the guy who could charm girls and crack jokes like it was nothing.

But now? Around Jamie? I feel like I’m stumbling over every word, second-guessing every move.

Jeff : You're in luck, mom just invited you over for dinner.

Jamie : Sweet.

Jeff : Bring red and white wine. 6pm.

Jamie : Bossy much?

Jeff : That's rich coming from you.

Jeff : Don't make me revoke your invite.

Jamie : OK OK… See you then.

I step back inside and stop in my tracks, surprised to see Lucy talking with Dad on the couch. What the hell are they even talking about? How did she manage to get him to have an actual conversation?

“Honey, I’ve got a few things for you to take back,” Mom says, bustling around with a care package full of leftovers. “Oh, and this one’s for Lucy,” she adds, pointing to another bag.

Well, damn. Lucy’s part of the family now? I smile, touched by how welcoming Mom is. She doesn’t care about stuff like Lucy’s orientation or the fact that I’m spending my vacation with my hot lesbian friend instead of my girlfriend. Mom’s awesome.

Lucy links her arm through mine. “Let’s hit the town and maybe catch some Black Friday deals,” she says, practically dragging me toward the door.

Mom’s giddy, rattling off suggestions faster than I can process.

Reluctantly, I grab my jacket, and we finally make it to the car. As soon as the doors close, Lucy turns to me, her eyes gleaming. “Start from when you got there,” she says, full interrogation mode activated.

“Lucy, I told you, it’s none of your damn business,” I reply, starting the engine.

“No way am I letting you off the hook that easily. Details, please.”

I sigh, knowing I’m trapped. She’s not letting this go.

“We played video games and made up. We’re going to talk again. That’s all,” I say, pulling onto the freeway toward downtown.

“So you’re going to talk again…?”

“Yeah.”

“So nothing happened?” she asks, her voice dripping with disappointment. “You made it sound like something happened…”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. My jaw clenches as I stare straight ahead, the road blurring slightly at the edges.

That’s all she needs. She laughs, leaning back in her seat with a smug grin. “Something totally happened. I mean… Jeff.”

My face burns, and anger coils in my chest, hot and restless. I’m so fed up with it—with her prying, with my own messed-up feelings. What the hell is wrong with me? I grip the wheel harder, willing myself to calm down. I need to get my act together.

“We kissed. That’s all. Just once,” I say through gritted teeth, forcing the words out as evenly as I can.

Lucy throws her head back, laughing so hard she clutches her chest. The sound grates on my already frayed nerves, and I clench my jaw. If she keeps this up, I might have to revoke her “bro” status—for good this time.

“It’s not going to happen again,” I snap, cutting through her laughter. “And don’t you dare fucking tell Tiffany, or I swear I’ll kill you.”

She wriggles in her seat, wiping away fake tears. “Jeff, I’m not going to tell anybody. I swear.”

“I’m going to tell her when I get back,” I say, feeling my chest tighten as the words come out.

“What?!” Her head snaps toward me.

“I’m going to tell Tiffany that I kissed him, but that it was nothing,” I explain.

“That’s a horrible fucking idea, bro… Oh my God.”

“Why? It’s the truth, and I need to be honest with her if we’re moving in together. She’s serious, Lucy. I’m serious about this relationship going somewhere. She deserves to know about… all this. Maybe I’ll pick something up for her downtown.”

“Oh, dude, no…”

“What?!”

“That’s not how this works. It’s not going to go the way you think it will,” she says, grabbing my shoulder, her fingers digging in for emphasis. “Listen, as a woman, I’m telling you this is a bad idea. Seriously, Jeff. Don’t do it.”

“Whatever, I’m doing it. I’m not taking our relationship to the next level with a secret behind my back.” My voice is sharp, and I can feel the tension knotting in my stomach.

Lucy lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “Don’t think I won’t have an ‘I told you so’ moment when this blows up. Because I will.”

I don’t respond, gripping the wheel tighter, my knuckles white.

She smirks at me from the corner of her eye, clearly shifting gears to her favorite pastime: annoying the hell out of me. “You guys fooled around last night, didn’t you?”

“No,” I snap, my voice louder than I intended. My face heats instantly.

“Oh god, you totally did,” she cackles, leaning back in her seat like she’s just solved a great mystery. “You seem so guilty about that little kiss…”

“No, nothing else happened,” I insist, my voice strained. “Nothing happened.”

But I can’t stop the flash of memory—the way Jamie stopped things before they went further, even though he was the one who started it.

“Did you kiss him, or did you make out with him, Jeff?” Lucy presses, her tone dripping with curiosity.

I keep my eyes locked on the road, saying nothing, my jaw tight. That silence is all the confirmation she needs. Her mouth drops open, her shock practically vibrating in the air between us.

“Jeff, what are you doing?!” she exclaims, sitting upright.

“Nothing happened, Lucy!” I shout, frustration spilling over. “So we made out—big deal!”

“And you’re going to start talking again?!”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal…”

She rolls her eyes. “Mmm, okay. Well, go ahead and tell Tiffany: ‘Hey, I made out with my best friend back in Nevada. It’s okay because he’s a guy. Oh, by the way, we’re going to start talking on the phone every day, so I hope you’re okay with that. Want to move in together?’”

“Well, yeah, it sounds fucking stupid when you put it like that…”

“So, exactly how are you going to say it?”

I haven’t thought that far ahead. “I’ll figure it out when I get back home.”

Lucy throws her hands up in exasperation. “How is this not a big deal to you?!”

“Lucy, we live in different states. Nothing more is going to happen.”

“Have you thought more about what I said?”

“About what?”

“About accepting your sexuality for what it is, instead of pretending it's something it's not, Jeff…” She glares at me, her expression a mix of exasperation and pity.

I sigh, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, focusing on the road ahead like it holds the answers. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I’m really not,” she says, her voice sharp but not unkind.

Her words strike something in me, raw and exposed. They echo what Jamie said yesterday—that he’s surprised I’m not gay. I don’t know if it’s irony or cruelty, but Jamie would probably agree with Lucy: I’m not straight.

The thought churns in my chest, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “He has a boyfriend.”

Lucy tilts her head, caught off guard, and then laughs softly. “Okay. So?”

“He has a boyfriend,” I repeat, my voice heavier.

“Oh.” Her tone changes, softening, like the weight of my words finally registers.

“Yeah,” I mutter, my grip tightening again. “He told me yesterday. He’s gay. He has a boyfriend—”

“And then you kissed,” she interrupts, her smug grin unmistakable.

I clench my jaw, heat rushing to my face. “Fuck you, Lucy.”

She laughs harder, clearly enjoying this way more than she should.

I glare at the road ahead, the silence between us stretching uncomfortably. I hate that she’s reading into this, digging into me like she’s some kind of relationship expert.

“Just so you know… That was before he told me about his boyfriend,” I admit reluctantly, my voice low.

“So? Doesn’t he know about Tiffany?”

I hesitate, the guilt slicing through me like a blade. “...Yes.”

Her expression flickers, briefly surprised, but she doesn’t say anything.

The guilt gnaws at me, but beneath it, another emotion tears me apart: jealousy. I’m fucking livid. Jamie has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who gets to call him his , who gets to laugh at his dumb jokes and hear his late-night thoughts—the ones Jamie used to share with me. A boyfriend who was supposed to be the only one to kiss him the way I did, who gets to touch him in ways I can’t even let myself think about right now.

I thought what we had was… special. Something just ours. Something untouchable. But now he’s with some other guy? Holding him, kissing him, like we didn’t mean anything? Like I didn’t mean anything? He replaced me?

It feels like the ground’s been ripped out from under me. I’m left standing here, clinging to scraps of what I thought we were. And Jamie’s simply moved on, like I was just another stop along the way.

I feel alone in this whole mess for the first time, completely untethered.

“Well, at least Jamie seems to be doing just fine in the reality check department,” Lucy finally says, her tone light but pointed. She glances at me again, her expression sharpening. “Wait… Are you pissed about that? That he has a boyfriend?”

“No,” I lie flatly.

She pauses, her gaze narrowing as she studies me, like she’s trying to piece me together. “Jeff, you left. You freaked out and left him.”

“That was our thing,” I snap.

“Because you’re bi,” she says, matter-of-fact, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

I roll my eyes, annoyed that she’s so entertained by my misery. “It was our thing. I don’t care what it makes me.”

Lucy smirks, leaning back in her seat. “And you’re still going to tell Tiffany? And give her a present?”

I nod, the guilt settling deeper into my chest.

“Your funeral, dude…” She grins, wiping her hands of the drama. Her grin widens, and she gestures at the road. “So… where are you taking me, exactly?”

The shift in tone feels like a lifeline, a chance to escape this spiraling conversation.

We spend the next few hours shopping, Lucy diving headfirst into full-on shopping mode while I trail behind, bored out of my mind. She flits from rack to rack, holding up clothes for me to approve—or mock—while I nod distractedly, my thoughts still tangled up in Jamie.

At some point, I find a watch for Tiffany. It feels like the right thing to do, a small effort to patch over everything I’m screwing up. But as I pay for it, I can’t help wishing I were anywhere else.

Lucy catches me zoning out and snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Jeff. You okay, or are you stuck in broody boyfriend limbo?”

I snort. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

She smirks knowingly but doesn’t press, and we eventually grab lunch at a cozy little spot I’ve been wanting to show her. She orders something loaded with cheese, and I settle for a burger, letting her chatter fill the air. It’s easier than thinking too much.

Afterward, we decide to catch a movie. Something light and mindless. For once, it feels like a break—a pause button on everything unraveling inside me.

And yet, even as we sit in the darkened theater, Lucy laughing at some ridiculous scene, my thoughts drift back to Jamie. To his voice, his laugh, his stupid boyfriend.