Stays in Willacoochee

by someofthissomeofthat310

Benji goes after Victor after he runs out of the room. They have a long talk.

Stays in Willacoochee

Summary: Season 1, Episode 7: Benji goes after Victor after he runs out of the room. They have a long talk.

I sit down in the hallway and take deep breaths. I hope that it will help fend off the storm that started to build in my chest the moment Benji uttered the words, "Victor, no."

I try to pay attention to the thin carpet, the textured feel of the wall against my back, and the surprisingly dull fluorescent lights. None of it distracts me.

I try to focus on the strange stain that's a couple of feet to my right. If I could feel a little less crumbly and disjointed right now, I might be able to use that as a distraction. For a second, I consider trying to come up with a mysterious and fantastical explanation for the stain. As soon as that thought enters my mind, it's pushed aside by the reality of my stupidity.

Usually, I excel at compartmentalizing unpleasant situations and focusing only on the bearable parts - it's how I became my family's fixer and how I avoid conflict, even with myself; however, I think even my brain knows I don't deserve an escape from what I just did.

What was I thinking? He has a boyfriend; I have a girlfriend. This never should have happened. I never should have let it happen.

I feel a single traitorous tear slip down my cheek, and the storm in my chest upgrades to a full-blown hurricane. I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate that I kissed Benji; even more than that, I hate that I felt something when I kissed him. I hate that my heart is still pounding and that I can still feel where he pushed me away. I hate that I feel the phantom press of his lips against mine and that, for a split second, I convinced myself he was kissing me back. I hate that this is proof that I've been deluding myself with Mia. I hate that this is who I am. That hatred burns through me.

The more I try to suppress it, the stronger it fights back and reminds me that this is who I am. I kissed Benji even though I knew it was wrong; I cheated on Mia; I've been lying to everyone I know to keep this part of me buried. I am something I hate, and I have hurt so many people trying to pretend I'm not.

I suddenly wish I'd grabbed my phone and wallet before I left. At least then I'd be able to get my own room. Then again, maybe this is my punishment. I'll have to spend the night out here, filled with all this self-hatred. I have no distraction and no escape from this.

I wonder what's going through Benji's head right now. Does he feel hurt? Angry? Betrayed? All of those things and more? What do I even say to him the next time I see him? We have an inevitably long ride back to Shady Creek in the morning. I doubt he'll even want to talk to me. That only fuels the anger and hatred inside me. I ruined one of the few genuine friendships I've made since moving. All because of a stupid crush and a stupid impulsive kiss. I've just lost Benji, and now I'm going to lose Mia. Piece by piece, my world will crumble.

When my parents find out, will I lose them too? What about Pilar? She's a wild card. She's never talked about this, so she could really go either way. Even if she's okay with me being gay, she's likely to resent me for adding more stress to our family. And Adrian is so young. I doubt my parents will tell him, but they might not want me to spend time with him. Or would that be too suspicious? He's young, but he's not dumb.

I don't like that my future is out of my control. Or, I guess I don't like how grim that future seems right now. Perhaps if I wasn't in the middle of a downward spiral, I would have been able to find the silver lining to everything but, at this moment, I can't see how things can possibly be okay.

I want to punch something and the thought of punching the wall behind me crosses my mind. Except, I don't know how stable it is and the last thing I need is to get in trouble for accidentally punching a hole in the wall.

I briefly entertain the thought of walking back to Atlanta. If I run part of the way, I'd probably get there by… Monday morning? I dismiss it because I have no idea how to get back to Atlanta from Willacoochee without the GPS on my phone. I have a pretty good sense of direction, but that will only take me so far when attempting to replicate a trip that took four hours by car. It's also short-lived because I can't strand Benji here. I won't cause any more damage.

I need an outlet but sitting alone in the hallway without even my phone as a distraction, I cannot figure out what that outlet could be.

In lieu of an outlet, rage and hatred swell in me again. I let out a frustrated growl.

"Shouldn't I be the one who's angry?" Benji's voice is cold as ice.

I look up. I hadn't even heard him come out. He's leaning against the wall right outside the door to our room. "Yeah, no, of course," I agree. "You have every right to be mad at me. I'm so sorry, Benji. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have. So why did you?" he asks. "And I want the truth."

I look at my knees. I try to find the words, but I don't think anything is adequate enough. I look away from him as I feel the guilt and fear and anger break me. I actually feel like something is being torn out of my chest. I take a shaky breath, and it's louder than I expect. I clamp my mouth shut before my cry can become audible.

It's too late. "Oh, Victor," Benji says quietly. He sits down across from me. He has a sympathetic look on his face. This is so fucked up. Benji should not have to comfort me right now. I'm the one that screwed up. I'm the one that kissed him. He should be back in that crappy, dirty motel room and should justifiably be filled with anger toward me. He should not be sitting across from me with a look of pity that only fuels the tears that I'm trying to fend off. I know I don't deserve this, but I'm grateful for it all the same because him sitting across from me is the only thing that's helping me hold myself together right now.

"I'm sorry," I say. My voice has an uncomfortably high-pitched tone to it, courtesy of the sobs that I'm trying to keep in my chest. "I messed everything up. I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm going to ask you a question. Whatever you tell me, I'll believe you." He's looking at me seriously and it takes me a minute to realize he's waiting for me. I don't trust myself to talk, so I nod. "Did you kiss me because you're gay?" he asks. His expression is soft and only breaks me a little more.

I hesitate before I answer him because I feel like my answer is yes and no. How do I explain this? How do I explain the denial that I clung to right up to the moment I kissed him? How do I explain that I know that now, but I wasn't sure before?

It's too complicated. I look at my knees intently, hoping it will help calm me down. I decide, it doesn't matter. I may not have been 100% sure before I kissed him, but I'd known I was questioning, and I'd known it was a possibility. I nod again, and I feel some traitorous tears slip down my cheeks. I hastily rub my eyes, but he sees them. Of course, he sees them.

"It's going to be okay."

I don't acknowledge his sentiment because both of us know that's not true. It's not going to be okay. The perfect world I'd constructed for myself with Mia is gone and is going to be replaced by a world that I don't want any part of. I'm going to lose Mia and Benji. Things will never be the same with my family. Who the hell knows how Felix is going to take it. Will he stay by my side, or will he give me some distance so no one will "get the wrong idea"? It took one stupid impulsive second for me to ruin everything.

When I reached out to Simon in January, I thought that I wanted to figure out who I am but that's not what I wanted. I wanted to want different things and to be different than I am now. I wanted to be able to fall in love with Mia and for Benji to just be some guy I worked with. I wanted to be someone that people won't hate and whom I won't hate.

I still want to be those things. I don't want this. I don't want to hate what I am; I don't know if that's possible for me. I don't even think I hate that I'm gay. I hate how other people are going to react to this. I'd practically been taught to hate gay people. I remember all those times at church when same-sex relationships were condemned and that condemnation echoed throughout the whole parish. I remember my dad making fun of one of the local hairstylists (who I'm like 99% sure is actually gay) and my mom defending him because "he's too nice" to be gay. Then there's the conversation we had the night of my birthday. He clearly doesn't want Adrian to be gay. I doubt he feels any differently about me.

"Have you told anyone?" he questions.

I shake my head. I can't help the sob that escapes me. This is too much. Too much.

Benji moves so he's next to me, and I scoot a few feet away from him. He follows, and I start to move again. "Stop," he says. He puts his arm on my shoulder. It's like an electric shock goes through me. Part of me wants to kiss him again. Its intensity is only magnified by his hand on my shoulder. At the same time, I know there are a million reasons not to. I know those reasons exist, but I'm having trouble reaching them. Part of me registers that I am in the hallway because that kiss was a mistake but that part is competing with a much louder, emotion-driven part of me. It's like the ocean is playing in my head instead of rational thought. Benji starts talking before I have the chance to figure out what is happening inside my head. "I'm not going to say what you did was okay. You kissed me, and you know I have a boyfriend. When we get back tomorrow, I think it will be for the best if we stay away from each other."

I can't blame him for that. Even if his words are making an uncomfortable emptiness spread through my chest, I understand why he feels that's necessary. I would probably make the same decision if our situations were reversed. At the same time, I wish he would take them back. I wish I could take back that stupid kiss.

"But for tonight," he continues. "I'm going to do something reckless, and I'm going to sit out here with you."

"Why?" I ask. It makes no sense to me. He should loathe me with a hatred that rivals my own.

"Because I know exactly what it's like to do something stupid because you hate who you are," he says quietly. "In a lot of ways, driving through that Wendy's was the best thing that could have happened to me. It forced me to confront myself and accept that I couldn't outrun… or outdrink who I was. It forced me to get the help I needed and make peace with my truth. Maybe that's what this will do for you."

"The help you needed?" I ask curiously. "You mean to come out?"

"No… I… uh," Benji starts. He takes a deep breath. "Here's the deal. I'll be honest with you about something really hard to talk about and then you'll be honest with me. Okay?" He waits until I nod to continue. "I was in a really bad place when I drove through that Wendys. It wasn't just that I hated that I'm gay. Drinking as much as I did, it changed me. The judge that took my case gave me an… unorthodox sentence. Because of my age, he waived most of the fine; however, he suspended my license for eighteen months and assigned me to mandatory drug and alcohol counseling. I don't drink anymore; I never will. I didn't realize it was a problem until I drove through the Wendy's and part of me thinks… maybe that was supposed to happen. It helped me get my life back on track and, because of it, I met people that understood me. My dad started driving me to an LGBTQ support group in Roswell. It wasn't court-mandated, but it was if-you-want-to-live-under-my-roof mandated. I resented everything at first, but as it started to work, I realized driving through that Wendy's may have saved my life." Benji sighs.

"Wow," I whisper. I'm grateful he still feels like he can share that with me. It gives me hope that maybe things can go back to normal between us after some time passes.

"It didn't look like it right away, but I got there. Maybe you will too," Benji suggests.

I doubt it, but I'm not going to tell him that. I don't think I'll ever look back on this moment and think it's a good thing that I kissed him. It's easy to pretend that I haven't irreparably damaged our friendship while he's sitting out here with me, but I'm always aware of it. I try to cling to anything that can help me avoid that fact, but the more I try to push it aside, the more it shouts into my soul. I figure if he can be honest with me, I should be able to be honest with him. "I didn't want this. I like Mia, and I thought if I could be with her… then maybe I was wrong. Maybe my life didn't have to be this complicated, horrible thing."

Benji licks his lips. "Being gay is complicated, and it can be horrible, but it's who you are. Your poor judgment from an hour ago aside, you're a really great guy, and there's no part of you that you should hate."

I snort. "No part of me that I should hate? I have super religious parents who have openly talked about how wrong gay people are in front of me; I started dating a girl because I thought I could like her and now I have to go tell her that I cheated on her and that we can't be together because I like someone that I don't have a chance with; I lied to you about the espresso machine not being ready because I wanted to spend some more time with you; I lost you as a friend when you're one of the few people that make me feel comfortable. There's a lot to hate," I snap. I'm not angry at him; he's just the closest beacon for all the anger I'm feeling toward myself.

"You lied about the espresso machine being done?" he asks furiously. This is the anger I've been expecting, but it feels misplaced. A lie about an espresso machine seems to pale in comparison to me kissing him. "Did you plan this?"

"No!" I don't realize how loud I am until I say it, and I quickly lower my voice. I don't know how many other people are in the motel or how thick the walls are, and I don't want to take any chances. "No, I really didn't. You mentioned that we'd have to spend the night in a motel and… I just wanted to spend more time with you. It seemed like the perfect excuse. I thought if I got to know you more, I'd be able to figure out if…" I cut myself off.

"If?" he asks.

I shake my head. I can't tell him this.

"I am trying very hard right now to be here for you. After what you did, don't you think I at least deserve the truth?" he asks.

I look up at the ceiling. He's not wrong. And really, what do I have to lose? This is probably the last conversation we'll ever have. If this really is the end of our friendship, I want it to go out right. Something feels wrong about ending things the way we would if I'm not honest. I don't look at him as I say, "I thought I would be able to figure out if I like you or if I like you because I know you're gay."

"What do you mean?" he asks curiously.

"I mean that I've felt… weird around you ever since we met, but I didn't know if that's because you're out and you are the only person I know that I can describe as out and proud, or if it's because I have real feelings for you. Like do I like you because you're like me or do I actually like you?" I explain. He still looks confused. "Let's say you like playing video games and there's only one other person you know that likes playing video games. Do you like them because you can play video games together, or do you like them for them?"

Benji looks at the wall across from us. "No, I understand what you mean. I just… never thought of it like that." He looks deep in thought for a moment. "I don't have the answer to that." He continues to stare at the same spot on the wall.

I don't tell him that I know that I like him. That kiss was more proof than I needed. It was like fireworks, or those jet fighters at the Super Bowl (just like Simon said), or like skydiving. Or… really, it was kind of like getting caught in a wave. Exciting and exhilarating, yet terrifying because I didn't know when I was going to surface. I don't think I have yet. Regardless, kissing him was way more than the tiny butterflies I get when I kiss Mia.

"Why didn't you tell me? That you're gay? I could have helped you."

I shake my head. "No, you couldn't have."

"Why not?" he asks.

"Do you know what Felix said to me the first day I met you?" I ask.

"I imagine something along the lines of 'Benji's gay'," he guesses.

"Yeah. And then he said that I didn't want people getting the wrong idea. The moment he said that to me, you were part of what I needed to figure out. Did I want people to get the wrong idea because it might be the right idea? I couldn't tell you that I might be… you know, if I couldn't figure out how I felt about you and Mia. And then you had a boyfriend which somehow complicated things for me. I almost took it as a sign that I was wrong. It was all part of the stuff I figured out."

We're silent for a moment before he asks, "is that why you kissed me? Because you wanted to figure it out?"

"Partially. I don't know. I didn't realize what I was doing until I was doing it," I explain. "It's like… yeah, I've thought about it." I don't add how much I've thought about it because I genuinely didn't plan to kiss him, but I don't think he'll believe me if I tell him that."But I thought about it in the way that I've thought about eating a gallon of ice cream. I knew it wasn't a good idea."

"Except, you ate the ice cream," Benji points out.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to," I argue. I feel like I'm only making things worse, and I have no idea how to properly explain it when I don't fully understand it myself. "It was a stupid mistake, I didn't realize how much I was going to like the ice cream, and I never should have done it. The last thing I ever wanted to do was upset you or hurt you."

"You didn't realize how much you were going to like the ice cream?" Benji confirms.

I frown. Apparently, spontaneity is really not for me; I really need to start thinking things through before I do or say them. That would make my life 100% easier. I shrug. I don't think Benji is going to let it go, so I'm not surprised when he asks, "what does that mean?"

I don't answer him. Instead, I stretch out my legs so they're no longer bent and close to my chest. The motion is almost relieving; I hadn't realized how stiff my legs had gotten.

He gives me a minute but when it becomes obvious that I have no intention of answering him, he presses, "Victor, what does that mean?" He has a weird look on his face. It's kind of like the bottom half of his face is frowning but the top half is smiling and it has a really strange effect on him. "Don't make me play the you-kissed-me-you-owe-me card again."

I sigh. "I don't think you'll like my answer," I tell him. It's the closest I can get to the truth. I'm not going to lie to him. I'm done lying to him, but I can't tell him this. It would ruin everything.

A little voice reminds me that I've already ruined everything. Could it really hurt to tell him? I guess it couldn't. Then what's stopping me? What's stopping me from actually getting everything off my chest? I've been holding some of these fears and uncertainties close to my heart for years. It would be a relief to let them go.

"I'd still like to hear it," he asserts.

"I've been trying to figure things out," I start.

"Yeah. We've already been through that part," he says impatiently.

I almost smile. I've never seen Benji's patience waver, and it's kind of refreshing to see this side of him. I don't smile, of course, because this is too serious.

"Let me finish. I'd never kissed a guy before. You were my first. And Mia was my first kiss with a girl where I actually felt something. I felt these butterflies, and I convinced myself that meant I was attracted to her. I believed that. But with you… There aren't even words. I don't even know how to compare the two feelings because they're so different. When I said I didn't know I was going to like eating ice cream, that's what I meant. I didn't realize how much better ice cream was going to be." I hope that makes sense because I don't know if I have it in me to come up with another way to explain this without being more direct than I want to be.

"Ice cream is guys?" he confirms. "You didn't know that you'd like kissing a guy?"

"Yeah. That too," I agree.

"That too?" His forehead is creased. I can see how hard he's trying to understand. "I'm too tired for this." For the first time, I see that. He doesn't have bags under his eyes, but his face just seems tired. "Can you just say whatever you're trying to say?"

I wonder if part of me wants him to figure it out. Maybe what I think is me unintentionally dropping hints is my subconscious trying to get him to connect the dots. That doesn't make any sense. Why would I want him to know this? What good could it do?

What harm could it do, my brain counters. I groan again.

"Please," Benji says. There's the strangest edge of desperation to his tone, and it makes me feel like he's already figured it out but wants me to be the one to say it. I can't figure out if that's because he wants to be right or if he wants to be wrong.

One way to find out. I'm almost shaking as I find the words. "I'm probably not going to get another chance to say this, so here goes nothing. You're really great, Benji. You're thoughtful and sweet and usually really patient. You're, like, the best barista and the worst foam artist I know. You're funny, but not in a way that puts other people down. You're honest. You've been so open with me. You've made work… almost enjoyable. Of course, I like you. Not just because you're a guy but because you're you."

I don't look at him while I'm talking.

"Hmmm," he says. I finally glance over at him and he looks like he's processing everything I said. He doesn't look upset, so I think that's a good thing. "How can you be sure that it's not what you were talking about before? That you don't just like me because I'm gay?"

I bite my lip. "Because when I think of you, I get really happy. I think about us making foam art after hours when neither of us had any reason to be at Brasstown. I think about dancing to Call Me Maybe. I think about a hundred tiny moments and jokes we shared while working, and I want more of those moments. Yes, kissing you felt… unbelievably amazing but that's not all there is to you." I sigh. "Not that it matters."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"We're not going to be the same, right? When we get back to Atlanta, we're not going to be friends. You're going to stay away from me. And when we're working, we're not going to talk the way we used to, right?"

He frowns but doesn't contradict me. We both know I'm right. I give him a few minutes, or at least what feels like a few minutes before I break the silence. "Are you going to tell Derek?"

"I don't know," he says slowly.

"Well, you know what they say. What happens in Willacoochee… Stays in Willacoochee," I say. I hate the words the moment they are out.

"That's not funny," Benji says. "This isn't something that can just stay here. We can't just pretend that this didn't happen."

"I know. I'm sorry. If you do tell Derek, let him know I'm sorry. I never meant to cause any problems between the two of you. If he's going to be mad at someone, he should be mad at me." I feel guilt gnaw at me. If Derek breaks up with him, it will be all my fault. I wonder if I should try to talk to Derek. Explain that I'm the bad guy in this situation. Though, I feel like that's obvious. How could anyone ever think Benji is the bad guy?

"You're not the one that caused problems between us," Benji says quietly.

"Huh?" I ask.

"Something's been broken between us for a long time," he starts to say. "I think I've known that, but I didn't want to admit it."

"Why not?" I question curiously.

"Derek was my lifeline when I came out. He was the only one that could understand how scared I was. He understood why my parents tolerating that I'm gay wasn't enough. He was really patient with me. I didn't think I could find that in another person. I didn't think anyone else could accept me for who I am."

"I get that," I tell him. "When you don't like part of yourself, it's hard to imagine anyone can, right?"

"That. Right there. That's what makes this so hard," Benji groans.

"Makes what so hard?"

"I should be able to remove you from my life without a second thought. I should want to choose Derek. I've been holding on to Derek because I thought I loved him, but… he doesn't seem to get me the way you do. He was there for me and he accepts all my flaws, but I don't think he understands me. He sometimes makes me feel bad for the things I like and for being a romantic. But you? You get it."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe…" He lets out a huffy sigh. "Maybe I deserve someone that doesn't make me feel anxious all the time and who is also a little bit of a romantic and who makes me feel like I am enough." He's looking at me like I'm supposed to understand what he's saying. "You, Victor. You make me feel that way."

I can only stare. What is even happening? How did we go from I shouldn't have kissed him to he's supposed to be with me? Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I did fall asleep in that bed with Benji and all of this is a concoction of my self-consciousness. Just like all the other dreams I've had about Benji. Except, this is too real. Plus, my dreams with Benji are always great until someone else ruins them. I've never been the one to destroy things in my dreams. "I don't understand. Shouldn't you hate me?"

"I should. But I don't. I think that means something."

"Or maybe it means you're just a really great guy," I point out. "I mean, you followed me out here even after I made an ass of myself."

"Exactly. Why did I do that?" he presses.

"Because you know what it's like to make an ass of yourself," I guess feebly.

"Or maybe it means that I've liked you for a long time; I just haven't let myself acknowledge it because I was with Derek."

"Was? You're still with Derek," I argue. I don't know why I'm resisting this. Maybe because I don't think I deserve it or because I'm having trouble believing that things might work out for me. "That's still a thing. Tomorrow when we get back to Atlanta, I'll still be with Mia and you'll still be with Derek."

He shakes his head. "Regardless of whether you stay with Mia, I have to break up with Derek."

"What?"

"I can't stay with him just because he's my only option. It wouldn't be fair to him, and it wouldn't be fair to me." He looks up. "I know now. I know I've just been going through the motions with him. Or what was your analogy before? Playing video games? Derek is a great guy, and he will make someone very happy, but I don't think we're meant to be together. He deserves someone that likes some of the stuff he likes, and he shouldn't feel guilty for disliking something I like or thinking something is cheesy when I think it's romantic. We both deserve better."

"So, you're going to break up with Derek. And I'm going to break up with Mia," I say slowly. I feel a flicker of hope. Is this going to happen? Is it possible that I didn't colossally screw up my life?

"Here's the thing." Just like that, my hope is extinguished. I should have known. "I want us to try this, but I don't trust you right now. You lied to me, and I'm going to need some time before I'm ready to place that trust in you again."

That seems fair. "I hope you know that I'm not going to tell anyone what we talked about," I assure him.

"That's not what I mean. I trust you with my secrets; I just don't trust you with my heart."

I get goosebumps from that. "What does that mean?"

"It means we try, but we take it slow. If you're ready. Are you ready to be in an actual out and gay relationship? I've been out for a while, but you? Have you even said the words? I'm gay."

I haven't, and I think he's well aware of that. I look away from him. I feel like this would be the perfect time to say the words. He already knows, so it should be really easy. But it's not. "I may not be ready to come out to everyone, but I am ready for you. Is there any way we can make this work? I'm not asking for much time. I just… I didn't even know for sure that I was…" Say it. Say it. Say it. The words bounce around in my head, but I can't do it. I finish with, "like you until a few hours ago. I need to wrap my head around everyone that needs to know. I just need to take this part a little slow. If I think about telling everyone tomorrow? I'm never going to be able to do it."

"Are you going to tell Mia the truth?" he asks.

"Yes," I tell him seriously. "Absolutely. I'm going to tell her everything. That I cheated on her. That I don't like girls like that. And I'm going to hope she understands. I'm done lying, Benji. She deserves the truth, and I owe it to myself to tell her. It's not that I want to hide you. I just want a little time. I promise, I don't want you to be my secret. I know that's really shitty of me, but-"

"Victor, it's fine," he says. "I remember when it was all new too. I get wanting to take it slow."

"Thanks," I say quietly. I feel like things are still unsettled. Like, there must be more to say, but I don't know what those things are.

"Can I ask you another question?" Benji asks.

"Of course."

"Why me? There are hundreds of guys at our school," Benji says slowly.

I look at him. I have no idea how to answer that question. "Why am I into guys and not girls? Why are some people tall? I have no idea why you are the one that I feel this connection with," I explain. It sounds really cheesy to me. "Do you remember the first day we met?"

Benji frowns and has to think about that. "Um…"

"I was with Felix and you came up to us in the hallway."

"Your shoes," Benji remembers. "I complimented your shoes."

"You called it destiny," I add. "That was the moment. And then Felix told me you were gay and it felt like you might be right about all the destiny stuff."

"Huh," Benji says. "And you never had feelings for Felix? The two of you seem really close."

I snort. It's probably not fair of me to find that so funny, but Felix is so… Felix. He's a great friend, but even if he is also closeted, I can't imagine being with him. There's no attraction. "Sorry. I love Felix. He's my best friend. But no. Never," I assure him.

"Okay." I study Benji. He looks almost relieved.

"Were you worried about Felix?" I ask curiously.

"You never know. Derek was my friend before I came out and look what happened there," Benji points out.

I can't argue with that. Benji yawns so big; his eyes water. "You should get some sleep."

"There's no point," he says with a sigh. "Look."

He points toward the window at the end of the hall, and I can just make out the bright light around the edges of the curtain. I hadn't realized how long we've been sitting out in the hallway.

"Are you going to be okay to drive?" he asks.

I don't feel like I've missed an entire night's sleep. I'm exhausted but not in a sleepy way. "I'll be fine as long as I get some coffee."

He nods. "Are you up for breakfast?"

"Always," I assure him. He climbs to his feet and holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. We go back to our motel room and quickly get ready for the day. I can't meet his eye. I glance at that spot on the bed. I can't say I regret it, not exactly. I just wish we'd been able to have the conversation we had in the hallway without it. And I wish we could have done our first kiss right. For the rest of my life, my first kiss with a guy will always be a stolen kiss. I can live with that, but Benji doesn't deserve to have any kisses stolen. That's something I want to do; I want to figure out how to reclaim our first kiss. Even as I think it, I'm not sure it's possible. I can't exactly rewrite history.

Benji drives us to a diner down the street from the espresso machine. I'm not sure if it just opened or if it's just an unusually slow Sunday, but there's only one other occupied table when we get there. It feels like a date when we're seated in a corner booth far, far away from the other patrons. And maybe it is a date. The idea makes me nervous and a little excited. My only actual date with Mia was such a shitshow. After that, we mostly hung out at my apartment, her house, or Brasstown. I'm not really sure how to date.

Dating is apparently really quiet. Neither of us talks much as we eat. Though, I'm pretty sure that's because we're both preoccupied with everything that happened last night and everything that still needs to happen. When he runs to the bathroom before we leave, I take out my phone and text Mia. I don't want to do it today but that's mostly because I don't want to do it at all; I don't want to hurt her. She answers me within seconds of me sending the message to let me know her dad and Veronica are going to be out most of the day. I'm not scheduled to work today, so I figure once I drop off Benji and give Sarah back her car keys, I can take the bus to Mia's house.

In a couple of hours, Mia will know everything. The thought seems to weigh a thousand pounds and only gets heavier as we get closer to Atlanta.

Benji doesn't break the silence until we're ten minutes away from Brasstown. "When are you going to talk to Mia?"

"I already texted her. Once I drop you off, I'm going to go see her." I don't look at him as I offer my explanation. "When are you going to see Derek?"

"Sometime today. I'm technically scheduled to work, but I'd be surprised if Sarah is going to keep me there." Benji yawns. "She'll see how tired I am."

"Maybe you should go home and get some sleep," I suggest.

Benji yawns again. I feel like it's contagious. My eyes water from the intensity of my yawn, and I feel like my fatigue hits me at that moment. "I've got to do this first." He doesn't say more than that, but I get it. I chance a look at him, and I'm surprised by how upset he looks. Immediately, I jump to the conclusion that he doesn't want to break up with Derek.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to. If it doesn't feel right..." I start to say.

"That's not it," Benji interrupts. I abruptly bring my eyes back to the road and narrowly miss taking out a street sign. "I know this is the right thing to do. I'm sure of what I want. I'm just trying to figure out how to do this. Derek and I have history; we've been together over a year. I know I don't want to be with him but just because it's the right thing doesn't mean it's the easy thing."

"Okay," I say quietly.

I pull up outside Brasstown and help Benji carry the espresso machine inside. Sarah takes one look at us before she scoffs. "Did you sleep at all last night?" The question gives me butterflies because she has no idea.

"Not much. We were too worried about the espresso machine," Benji says sarcastically.

"Cut the sass. I'm not here for that today. I'll text Courtney and see if she can come in. Go home," Sarah orders. "And thank you."

After we leave, Benji grins. "I don't think she's ever said thank you before. She must really like you."

I roll my eyes. "I think she tolerates me. I wouldn't go as far as to say she likes me."

Benji shrugs. "I've been working with Sarah for almost a year. Tolerant is as close to like as she gets with the kids that work here."

Benji waits with me at the bus stop. He's going to walk to Derek's place. Apparently, Derek lives really close to Brasstown. We're the only ones at the stop and when the bus pulls up, I hesitate a moment. "Hey, Benji?"

"Yeah?" he asks curiously.

I don't look at him as I say, "I'm gay." I climb onto the bus without waiting for his reaction.

I feel like the words spur a massive adrenaline rush. I have so much trouble sitting still on the bus. It's a strange combination of exhausted and wide-awake. I tap my foot on the floor and my fingers on my knee. I'm constantly shifting. Part of me just wants to get off the bus and maybe run to Mia. Maybe that will help reduce the sudden influx of energy I'm feeling. Though, I seriously doubt that.

By the time the bus pulls up to the stop closest to Mia's neighborhood, I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust. Seriously. The energy is trying to claw its way out of me. In a weird way, I feel like giddily laughing or smiling even though I'm about to do something I dread. I think it's the nerves. I haven't felt this nervous about something… maybe ever.

Mia is all smiles when she sees me, which only makes me feel worse. When she tries to kiss me, I turn my head so she kisses my cheek instead. Her smile falters and, if I didn't know better, I'd say she knows what's coming. "Can we talk?" I ask quietly.

Mia constructs her face into a neutral mask and leads me to her living room. I take a seat and she sits on the opposite end of the couch. She definitely knows what's coming. "How was the party?" I ask.

"It was fine," she says stiffly. She doesn't ask me how my work trip was. I don't know if that's a good or a bad sign.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

She doesn't acknowledge that, and I guess I can't really delay the inevitable much longer. "I think you're really great Mia, and it's really hard for me to do this, but I can't date you anymore." Maybe ripping off the BandAid wasn't the right move because my words sound really blunt to me. Maybe I should have carefully picked out my words and explained to her that it's all on me. I should tell her how much the last four months with her meant.

"Why?" she asks. That single word seems to cut through me like a knife. She's not crying, but it kind of sounds like her voice is.

"I've been questioning some things about myself for a while now. I really like you and I thought that was enough, but it's not, and I'm so, so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was string you along and hurt you, but you need to know that I do like you. Just not in the right way. I can't deny the truth anymore. I'm…" I close my eyes and take several deep breaths. It wasn't easy to say the words to Benji, but it had been easier than I'd been building it up to be. I try to tell myself that it's the anticipation of telling her that's getting to me, but I'm not sure it is. I think this is the first time I'm risking something by saying the words, which makes this much higher stakes. She deserves the truth, I remind myself. "I'm gay, Mia."

"Oh," she says surprised. She doesn't sound angry or upset and every time I thought of this moment, I always figured that would be her immediate reaction. I wonder if it helps. Does it hurt less when it's not you but every girl? Does it help her realize that it's really not her, but me? I sincerely hope so. "How long have you known?"

"I didn't know for sure until last night," I admit. I can see from the way her eyes flash that she suspects what I'm about to say. "But I… I kissed Benji last night. I'm really sorry. I know that's not enough, and I know that was a betrayal of your trust. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I needed you to know."

"You kissed Benji. You cheated on me?" Mia jumps to her feet and looks furious. "How long have you liked Benji?"

I don't look at her. "A while. I didn't want to like him. I really tried not to."

"How long?" she repeats.

I clench my hands together and rest my forehead on my entwined fists."Since before I started working with him."

"So the entire time we were dating?" she asks. "You were what? Off falling in love with him. Was any of it real?"

"Of course it was. You're like my favorite person."

She scoffs. "If I'm your favorite person then why were you off hooking up with Benji last night?"

"I didn't want this. He had a boyfriend, and I wanted things to work out between you and me."

"Had a boyfriend? What? Is he breaking up with his boyfriend so the two of you…" I think she's reached her threshold because she stops.

I hang my head. "I'm sorry." I wonder if she'll start to believe me at some point.

"This is great," she seethes sarcastically. "Your gonna be Benji's boyfriend, and I'm the idiot that fell for a gay guy."

"You're not an idiot," I argue. "I wish I could have loved you the way you deserve because you are an amazing person. Some lucky guy is going to come into your life one day and he'll be everything you need."

"Is there anything else I should know? You spent the night with Benji. Did you sleep with him?"

"No. I'm not ready for that. I wasn't lying when I told you I wasn't ready. That just wasn't the whole reason," I assure her. She still looks doubtful, but I don't think there's anything I can do to convince her otherwise.

"I think you should go."

"Mia," I start to say.

"I want you to leave," she interrupts.

"Okay." I stand up. "I'm really sorry."

She's looking away from me as I leave.

I end up walking home. It's a long walk, but it helps. Plus, it would probably be over an hour before the next bus comes, and I don't have it in me to wait that long. It also gives me the chance to message Simon. It's hard to believe that so much could happen in a single day. Could it really have just been yesterday that I was denying that my lack of interest in advancing with Mia meant anything?

I send him the longest message I've ever sent him and by the time I get home, I'm exhausted. Explaining everything to Simon left me feeling empty, almost as if all the adrenaline and energy that had been fueling me all day had gone into my message. I didn't know it was possible to feel this tired.

By the time I get home, I just want to go to bed. I tell my mom I'm really exhausted before I crawl into bed. I wonder if I'm too tired to fall asleep. I never thought sleeping took effort, but right now, I feel like my fatigue is keeping me up. Like, I can't stop yawning long enough to fall asleep.

I guess eventually I do fall asleep because suddenly Pilar is shaking me. "Are you gonna eat or what?" she asks. I feel like I'm not fully awake because I don't understand her question. She scoffs. "Dinner's ready if you want to wake up long enough to join us."

I sit up and rub my eyes. I had to have slept for hours, but I don't feel like it. "I'm coming." I force myself out of bed. When I check my phone, I have a missed call and a text from Benji. How'd it go?

I quickly text him back. Sorry, I fell asleep. Can I call you in a few?

I change quickly before I pocket my phone and walk to the kitchen. Dinner is pizza. Again. We've been having pizza more and more often as the tension between our parents has been increasing. I guess there's not much time to cook when you fight so much. My mom says grace, and I scarf down three slices of pizza. "I'm going to go for a walk with Felix," I tell them. I feel a little guilty for the lie, but they're not ready for my honesty and I'm not ready to give it to them yet.

They don't question it. I end up sitting on the half-wall that separates the grass from the sidewalk. It's surprisingly cold for April and in my shorts and t-shirt, I have little protection from the cold. I'm out here nearly thirty minutes, and I haven't heard from Benji. I'm starting to think that he's sleeping.

I'm about to go inside when Felix walks out. "Hey."

"Hey, man."

"So, I uh… stopped by your apartment, but your parents said you were on a walk with me. Good to know."

"I'm sorry. I should have given you a heads up." I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"No worries. I think I covered it. I smelt the pizza, and I told them I was hoping to grab a slice before we went on our walk. I think they bought it." I'm not looking at him, but I can practically feel his stare boring into the side of my face. "Are you going to tell me why I'm your cover story? Not that I mind. I've never been someone's cover story before. It kind of makes me feel like a young James Bond."

I hesitate. I'm not sure I'm ready to lose Felix. He's goofy and quirky, but he's my best friend. I feel as close to him as I did with Mia, and I can't lose two people in one day. I can't tell him about me, but I realize I can tell him some stuff. "I just needed to get out, and I didn't want them to ask questions. I broke up with Mia."

"Are you okay?" Felix asks. He puts his hand on my shoulder and looks so concerned for me.

"I'm fine."

"What happened?" he asks.

I sigh. "I realized we want different things," I explain. Actually, I don't think that's true. Technically, we broke up because we want the same things - we both want a boyfriend.

"I thought you liked her."

"I did too." I almost think I'm going to tell him. I don't think I'm ready to, but how else do I explain this? At that moment, my phone vibrates. I glance at the message. It's Benji. Call me anytime.

"I'm really not ready to talk about it. I'm sorry. I know that's really shitty, but I just want to be alone to think right now." I don't like lying to him, but I feel like I need to talk to Benji. I think I need the reminder that I didn't imagine everything with him. Plus, I really am not ready to talk to Felix right now and I do technically want to be alone while I'm on the phone. Even as I think it, I know it doesn't validate lying to him.

"Okay," he confirms. "If you want to talk, I'll leave the walkie-talkie on."

I smile despite myself. "Thanks."

I wait over a minute after Felix goes inside to call Benji. He answers right away. "Hey," he says quietly.

I know it's not a competition, but I can't help but compare this "hey" to the "hey, handsome" Derek got that day he called Benji at work. I push that aside. I can't fall down the rabbit hole of comparing myself to Derek.

"Hey." I sit on the half-wall listening to crickets for several seconds. I keep expecting Benji to ask, but I realize he's waiting for me to tell him. "I broke up with Mia. I told her everything. About me. About the kiss."

"How do you feel right now?"

I really think about his question. "Tired. I slept for six hours this afternoon, but I still feel like I need to sleep."

"I hear you." I hear him sigh and I can vividly picture how he might run his hand through his hair when he does that.

"Did you sleep today?" It's not the question I want to ask, but it's the one that comes out.

"For a little but not much. I was with Derek for hours. He's angry."

"With you or with me?" I ask.

"Well, I told him that you kissed me and that I kissed you back… so both."

"You didn't have to lie to him." I feel guilty all over again. "You should have just blamed me."

"I didn't lie to him," Benji corrects.

"But you didn't kiss me back," I point out.

There's a long moment of silence. "You're kidding, right? You don't think I kissed you back?" I don't answer him because I'd convinced myself I was imagining that. Suddenly, Benji is laughing. It's so unexpected. "Sorry, dad. I'll go outside." It comes out a little muffled. "One sec." I faintly hear things being shuffled around and what sounds like something heavy falling down. "Sorry. My dad's a baker, so he wakes up at 3 to get to work. He's trying to sleep, and I was being a little too loud for him."

"It's cool."

"So, I didn't even ask. How'd Mia take it?"

"She, uh, she took it pretty hard," I admit. "She was okay with it until I told her about kissing you." I glance at my watch. It's late but not so late that I can't take a walk. I feel like I need to as the memory of Mia assaults me. I pick a random direction and start walking.

"I know it wasn't easy, but I'm really proud of you for telling her. You did tell her that you're gay, right? Not just the part about kissing me?"

"Used those words and everything," I confirm.

"Twice in one day." Benji whistles.

I chuckle. "It was easier to tell you than I thought it would be. I know that sounds really dumb because you're out and all, but… I don't know."

"No, it makes sense. The first time you say it out loud, even if you're saying it to someone you know can understand… it's terrifying. I was surprised that you told me."

I shrug before I realize he can't see me. "I don't know how to explain it. I just felt like… like you should be the first to hear it, you know."

"Well, I'm honored."

I'm not looking down as I walk, so I miss that the sidewalk is getting uneven until my shoe catches on a slab that's at least two inches higher than the rest of the sidewalk. "Shit," I grumble as I launch forward. My ankle twists, and my phone goes flying. I catch myself on my hands first before my knee hits the ground. For a minute, I don't try to move. Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling during basketball practice, so I don't think I'm too hurt. My knee buckles when I climb to my feet, but once I regain my balance, it's fine. It mostly feels sore, as if I worked out too hard. My ankle doesn't hurt at all which is a massive relief.

I take a couple of steps and deem that I'm okay to keep walking. Weirdly, I think my fall gave me some clarity. I begin to search for my phone which landed somewhere in the thick grass. I can't even see the light from the screen as I search the grass. It got ridiculously far away from me. I must have tossed it as I was going down.

I pick up my phone to hear, "Victor? Victor!" Benji's practically shouting.

"Sorry, I fell. I'm fine."

"Where the hell did you fall? Why didn't you answer me?"

"I was taking a walk and tripped on the sidewalk. Seriously, I'm fine," I promise.

"Then you tell someone that. You don't let someone imagine that you got kidnapped or something," Benji says. He still sounds a little frantic.

I snort. "Sorry, but who would want to kidnap me?" I point out.

"We live in a creepy world," Benji argued. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." I hadn't really been paying attention to where I was walking, but now I see that I'm getting close to Brasstown. It's usually a ten-minute walk to get to Brasstown, so either I was walking really fast or I'd been on the phone with Benji longer than I thought. "I'm probably gonna head back soon." The lights are off in Brasstown and it looks kind of creepy in there. It's a good thing there are so many lit streetlights, or I'm pretty sure this whole group of closed shops would look haunted.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"By Brasstown."

He sighs. "Stay there. I'll be there in five."

"It's late. You really don't need to do that," I assure him.

"I want to. Plus, I'm not tired."

I don't believe him, but I don't feel like arguing with him. "Do you live close to Brasstown?" I ask curiously after a couple of minutes.

"Yeah. When I was applying to jobs, I only applied to stuff within walking distance. It was hard enough to find a job with a DUI. I didn't want to have to deal with relying on the bus. Though, I was getting close. If Sarah hadn't hired me, I would have had to branch out," Benji explains.

"You really wanted a job, huh?" I ask.

"It was another if-you-want-to-live-under-our-roof condition," Benji admits. There's something weird in his voice.

"Were there a lot of those?"

"Enough," he answers curtly. I get the idea that he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so I don't press it. After a few minutes, I hear him let out a shaky breath on the other side of the phone. "Sorry, I just… I really don't like talking about it. I know at some point, I'll have to tell you the whole story and not just fragments, but it's hard to think about."

"I can't really judge you for keeping secrets, can I?" I point out.

"I see you." I spin in a circle trying to spot him, but I don't see anything. He chuckles. "Over here." I hear him both through the phone and out loud.

He emerges from behind a huge truck parked by the curb and crosses the street. I hang up my phone. Benji keys into Brasstown. It almost throws me off that he has access to Brasstown after hours. I realize I knew this. He is always the one to lock up and he'd used Brasstown for his date once. "Let's not tell Sarah about this," he suggests as he pockets his keys. "I'm technically allowed to be here right now, but she'd want a reason."

"Tell Sarah what?" I pretend to look at him cluelessly, and I can see him roll his eyes.

"Come on. There's a first aid kit in the back."

He flicks on the lights, and I squint from the sudden brightness. "That's not necessary. I'm really fine."

"I'll be the judge of that. Sit."

I sit on a table and wait for him to come back. I know he's overreacting, but it's kind of nice that he cares this much.

He comes back with an ancient white first aid kit. He opens it up and pulls out an antiseptic wipe. He pulls up a chair in front of me and frowns. "You did a number on your knee. Does it hurt?"

"No," I assure him. He opens the antiseptic wipe and starts to clean it. My leg involuntarily jerks, and I narrowly miss kicking him. "Well, now it does."

Benji smiles and chuckles.

He rests his hand on my calf to hold me still. There's no danger of me moving because suddenly, I'm unaware of everything but his hand on my leg. His hand feels warm. I don't feel the pain as he finishes cleaning my knee, but I do notice the sudden absence of his hand. "At least it's clean. Let me see your hands."

I hold them out to him.

I study him while he cleans my hands. He has a look of intense concentration on his face, I swear that he's intentionally taking his time with this. I wonder if he feels what I feel right now. I imagine this is what being drunk feels like, but the good part of being drunk. I feel warm and giddy. It takes me a while to realize that he's trying to say something. I think that I'm experiencing sensory overload and with so much to feel, my hearing has turned off.

"Huh?" I ask.

"I said that I think there's something we need to talk about," Benji repeats quietly. I only half hear him because he's still holding my hands and this feeling is so intense. How was I ever unaware of how much I like him?

"What's that?"

"School tomorrow."

I feel myself stiffen before I fully process his words as if my body understands his words much quicker than my brain. I should have known this talk was coming. "What about it?"

"What do you want to do?" He's not looking at me and a look I can only identify as fear crosses his face. I don't answer him right away, and he takes that as confusion on my end. "Do you want to pretend that nothing happened between us?"

"What do you want to do?" I ask. He's staring down at my hands, and I realize that he's not the one that can make this decision. He's not in the closet; he's not terrified of who he is. I take a shaky breath and really think about his question. "I don't want to pretend, but I don't want to not pretend."

"I think you're going to need to elaborate," Benji says. He's still not making eye contact. I never thought I'd want eye contact. It usually makes me deeply uncomfortable, but him intentionally avoiding it is unsettling.

"I don't want things to be like how I was with Mia. She deserves some space, and I don't want to throw this in her face. Pilar also doesn't know," I explain. "But I don't want things to be like they were before. I'd like to sit with you during lunch if you're cool with that. I don't want to avoid you."

He finally looks at me, and it's like my stomach unknots. "Okay. I'm okay with that."

"Thanks." We sit like that for several minutes before I find the nerve to ask, "are you okay? After everything with Derek today?"

"I'm sad," he admits. "But I know it was the right thing to do. And honestly, I feel a little guilty that I don't feel worse."

I nod. I don't know what I was expecting him to say, but I have the strangest feeling of being disappointed with his answer. I don't even know where to start to figure out why I feel that way, so I push it aside. "I know what you mean."

My phone starts to ring. It's my dad. "Where are you?"

"I told you. I went for a walk," I answer quickly.

"Do you know what time it is?" He questions.

I don't, so I look at Benji's watch. My eyes nearly bulge out; it's almost 10:00. "I'm so sorry. We lost track of time. I'll be home in ten minutes. I promise."

My dad must really be angry with me because he hangs up the phone without saying anything else. "You've got to go?" Benji asks.

"Yeah. It's getting late. But I'll see you in the morning?" I ask.

"I'll meet you outside school," he offers.

I squeeze his hands before I stand up. "Thanks for coming here and patching me up. Nurse Benji has a nice ring to it."

He chuckles. "Nothing would make my dad happier." He shakes his head. "Forget about the fact that I hate anything to do with blood."

"I think you did pretty well," I point out.

"Yeah, well… I was invested."

I can't keep the smile off my face. When we get outside, he hugs me quickly before he takes off in the opposite direction. I'm barely aware of my walk home, but I know it must happen because suddenly, I'm outside our apartment door.

I go inside and my mom is sitting at the kitchen table. "Where's dad?" I ask curiously.

"He has an early start tomorrow, so he went to bed," she answers. She doesn't look up from whatever bill she's staring at.

"Okay. I'm gonna go to bed too. Night." I wonder if she's even aware that I'm out past curfew. I almost feel like I'm dodging a bullet. I know the only reason I'm getting away with this is because of the distance between my parents lately and that adds a bitingly bitter taste to my small victory.

The next morning, I feel like I'm living on cloud 9. Simon's message that's simply a compilation of happy dancing only adds to it. Felix is at my door at 6:45. He doesn't bring up last night and while I know I owe him an explanation, I'm eager to avoid the inevitably awkward and potentially friendship-ending conversation we're going to have to have. Probably soon.

The moment comes much quicker than I expect because Felix needs coffee, so we stop at Brasstown. I want to get coffee for Benji if I'm getting it for myself. I half-heartedly hope that Felix won't notice that I ordered two cold brews, but he does. Of course, he does. Sarah whips them up quickly and only charges me for one, which is really nice of her. Maybe Benji's right. Maybe Sarah doesn't hate me.

Once we get outside, I let out a breath. "This coffee is for Benji," I explain before I can change my mind.

"Oh. That's cool. Just didn't know you and Benji were so close."

Felix looks… jealous? That makes no sense. "Are you upset that I got coffee for Benji?"

"No, of course not. It's just… I thought we were best friends and you've never even offered to buy me coffee. Not that I'd accept it. This is what my mom used to call friend envy. I've never had it before. Anyway, I'm glad you and Benji are friends."

I have to laugh because what else is there to do? "You misunderstand." I don't know if that's the right word because I really haven't given him the chance to understand yet. "This isn't friendship coffee."

"Oh. Did Benji ask you to pick it up for him?" Felix guesses.

"Not exactly." Didn't this walk use to go faster? I feel like we've barely made any progress toward school. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me I can't outrun this. "You asked me last night why I broke up with Mia, and I wasn't ready to talk about it… I need you to not look at me. I can't get this out if you're staring at me." He doesn't blink enough as it is, so when he stares, it's really intense. He looks down at the ground as if he's paying careful attention to where he's stepping. "I broke up with Mia because I like guys."

Felix stops walking, and I get a few steps ahead of him before I realize and stop myself. I brace myself for whatever is about to come. He takes the coffees from my hands and places them on the sidewalk before he tightly hugs me. It takes me a second, but eventually, I return his embrace. "I don't know the right thing to say right now. But this doesn't change anything between us, obviously. You're still my best friend."

I genuinely feel like there has been a pillow over my chest trying to suffocate me and that pillow is finally gone. The pressure is off of my chest. Felix is by no means the hardest conversation that needs to happen but that doesn't change the relief and euphoria I feel. "Thanks."

I grab the coffees and we continue walking to school. "So, do you like Benji? Is that why you got him coffee?"

"Yeah," I admit.

"That must be tough. With the boyfriend thing, right?" Felix looks like he's trying to be sympathetic but mostly, he looks uncomfortable.

"He broke up with Derek."

"Because of you?"

That's a loaded question. I don't even feel like I know the answer. "He had other reasons for ending their relationship." It's the best explanation I can offer.

"Are you dating him now?"

"Sort of. We haven't really talked about it and after I kissed him, he doesn't fully trust me. We're whatever you call it when we're not fully dating but we're not open to dating other people."

"You kissed him?" Felix asks. His eyes get wide as if that's the last thing he was expecting.

"On my work trip." A sudden image of Mia pops into my head, and I try to force it aside. I can't. It will forever be ingrained in my head. The look of anger and betrayal on her face causes guilt to gnaw at my stomach.

"Oh boy."

"Yeah," I agree.

"I… uh. I don't know what to say. Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?" To his credit, he does look clueless.

"Talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable."

"That's not what I'm doing." Great. Now he looks like I've offended him. He lets out a huffy breath. "I just want you to know that you can talk about this if you want to. Mia or Benji or the gay thing. I'm new at this, but you know what they say." I look at him uncertainly. What could possibly have ever been said that applies to this particular situation? He continues, "practice makes perfect."

I can't help my laughter. Felix is so perfectly… Felix sometimes. "I'll remember that."

"Oh look. There's Benji," he says. I look toward where he's pointing. "Wow. You've got it bad. You're totally blushing."

"What? No, I'm not… shut up."

Felix is still laughing when we get to Benji. "Go get 'em, tiger," he whispers. He saunters off with a knowing smile on his face.

"Hey," Benji says with a small smile. "I was beginning to think you were playing hooky."

"Nah. I told Felix on our walk over," I say nonchalantly. I'm impressed with how well I pull off indifference when, in reality, I feel like I am made of fireworks that are combusting inside of me. "I got you a cold brew."

I hand it to him and he looks confused. "You got me a… Why?"

"Do you not like it?" I could have sworn I'd seen Benji make himself a cold brew before and he'd gotten black coffee at the diner yesterday, so I'd thought it was a good choice for him. Maybe I shouldn't have.

"No. That's not it," he says. He shakes his head. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this." He looks weirdly sad. "I'm not used to this."

"What? No one's ever gotten you coffee just because before?" I tease.

"Never." His answer throws me off. I hadn't thought this was a weird thing to do. I'd done the same for Mia a couple of times while we were dating.

"Oh. Well, it's not that big of a deal."

"It is to me. Thanks." He takes a sip and smiles.

"No problem." I'm still a little unnerved by his reaction.

"Seriously, I love that you did this. I just need to get used to it," he assures me. He squeezes my hand and it takes actual effort for me to not immediately pull back. Just like he needs to get used to small gestures, I need to work on not being afraid… or being less afraid.

"You do," I agree. I drop his hand and start to walk inside. "Someone very smart once called me a romantic, and I plan on showing him just how true that is."

Benji chuckles. "Whoever that was sounds very handsome."

I snort. "And so humble."

"I think I'll like this," he says after a moment. "These small things. I always thought about how it would be not to feel bad for being a romantic, but I never gave much thought to how it would feel to be on the receiving end. It's nice." He stops walking. "This is my class. I'll see you at lunch?"

"I'll meet you by your locker."

Mia isn't outside during lunch, and I feel simultaneously relieved and guilty about that. Felix sits with me and Benji and it's the most spectacularly awkward thing to watch them talk. I don't think two people exist who are more different and somehow, that works. I almost forgot that Benji and Felix knew each other long before they knew me, mostly because I never really saw the two of them together after the first day. It hits me as we eat lunch together that they have an entire shared past that I know almost nothing about. Felix only makes a handful of awkward comments, so I think that our lunch arrangement might work. The handful of times I've seen Benji during lunch, he's been alone, but I make a mental note to make sure that I'm not getting in the way of him eating with his other friends.

A week and a half passes in a blur. My days are a medley of meeting Benji before school, having lunch with him, and flirting at work. Everything that happens in between kind of feels like the stuffing inside a pillow - I know it's there, but I don't spend much time thinking about it.

I still haven't told my family and only Pilar knows that I broke up with Mia (it took less than a day before the whole school knew - word travels fast). Benji hasn't brought it up once and I think he'd be fine with giving me more time, but I'm not okay with it anymore. I feel like Benji and I are stuck, and I know I'm the one responsible for that. It's because I feel like, until I follow through and come out, I can't really be with Benji; not in the way we want to be together. It's like that's always hanging over my head, reminding me why I'm not good enough for him. And I really want to be good enough.

By the time Friday rolls around, I almost feel at peace with my decisions. So at peace that I'm finally able to focus on something else. I haven't kissed him since Willacoochee, and two weeks is a remarkably long time to wait, especially when I spend approximately 100% of my time thinking about kissing him. I have it all planned out. My big gesture, my promise, our second first kiss.

I'm antsy during work, and I think he notices, but he doesn't ask. I can feel his worried eyes following me as I wipe down counters and make coffee. Finally, our shift is over, and I flip the sign to "closed". I don't try to clean up yet; I know I would probably only make a bigger mess.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asks.

I don't answer him. Instead, I go into my bag and pull out an envelope. I grab his hand and pull him over to the couch near the wall. "Sit down." He doesn't hesitate, and I sit next to him.

"What's going on?" he asks nervously.

I try to smile to show him that nothing's wrong, but I think it comes out more like a grimace. I hand him the envelope, and I wait. He opens it and freezes. "I know it's short notice, but I was really hoping we could go together."

"Victor, do you know what you're asking?" he asks. He still hasn't looked at me.

"Yes."

"We're going to be seen together in public in a romantic way."

"Yes," I repeat.

"Everyone will know that we're together."

"Yes," I agree. I'm starting to feel redundant, so I hope he's run out of arguments.

No such luck. "And your family… Pilar. She'll see us. She'll know."

"I'm going to tell them this weekend," I explain.

"Why are you doing this?"

I hesitate. I'm not expecting the question, and I really need to think about how to explain this. "Because I really like you. You've been really great about giving me my space, but I don't need that space anymore. I don't want it. I want to be with you, and I want to do couple-things with you. Like, go to the school dance. I want to give us a real chance." I take his hand.

"You're really sure about this?" he asks.

"I am."

"Okay. Then, yes. I'd really like that."

I don't think it's my imagination that his eyes flicker to my lips. Way ahead of him. I bring one hand up to the side of his head. His hair is ungodly soft, and I love it.

I lean forward slowly and the anticipation builds. I think he wants this too because he leans forward just a little as if he can't wait for me. I gently press my lips to his, and my eyes flutter shut. He brings his hand up to my cheek and pulls me closer. It's like a switch flips and suddenly I can't kiss him long enough to satisfy this need for him. I thought kissing him in Willacoochee had been amazing, but it was nothing compared to this. Benji truly kissing me back and not pushing me away unlocks a whole new part of me. I don't know whose heartbeat I hear in my head. Maybe it's both of ours, finally in sync. I bring my hand to his, partly to hold it to my cheek and partly to steady myself.

When we break the kiss, I can't help the euphoric chuckle that escapes me. "Wow."

Benji's cheeks are flushed and he has a look in his eyes that makes me feel like I'm the most important person in his world right now. "Yeah," he agrees.

"I wish that had been our first kiss," I say softly.

"It can be. But then we need a new second kiss," he says suggestively.

I don't think I've ever wanted something more in my life. At some point, I must wrap my arms around him. At some point, he must bring his hand to rest at the nape of my neck. At some point, we both must have moved so we're taking up the same space on the couch. At some point, I must remember to breathe. All of those things must have happened, but I'm entirely unaware of anything except what it feels like when Benji really kisses. No offense to Simon, but jet fighters simply aren't powerful enough to describe this feeling. I don't know if there is anything that can describe this. Instead of trying, I simply allow myself to feel it. I allow myself to feel how warm Benji is and how close we are. I allow myself to feel the surplus of emotions coursing through my blood like fire. I allow myself to feel giddy and invincible and weightless.

Except, maybe I don't do the greatest job with breathing because when we break apart, I have to take several deep breaths to fill my lungs with air again. He's doing the same, and I feel a sense of smug satisfaction to know that it's not just me.

I rest my forehead against his and close my eyes. I want to remember everything about this moment because right now, my life feels perfect and when my life inevitably crumbles after I come out to my parents, I want to be able to come back to this place with Benji where nothing can hurt me.

"We should probably clean up now. That is if you want to get home tonight."

"Okay." Neither of us moves. I lean back so I can look at him. He's still holding my hand and his eyes are boring into me like he's studying for a test. "What?"

"I just feel really lucky," he says quietly.

"Me too," I agree.

"I didn't think you'd be ready for something like this for a long time," he continues. "You asked me to Spring Fling… well, technically you didn't ask."

"Would you like me to ask?" I question, raising my eyebrows.

He laughs. "That's okay," he assures me.

I stand up anyway. "Benjamin I-don't-know-your-middle-name Campbell," I say slowly. I pull the tickets from his hand. "Would you do me the honor of being my date to the Spring Fling next Friday?" I spread my arms and say it as dramatically as I possibly can.

He's grinning so hard right now. I can't even. "I would love to."

"I've never asked someone to a dance before. How was it?" I ask. I know we probably should start cleaning, but I sit back down next to him.

"Perfect. Except for one thing."

"What thing?"

"I don't have a middle name. My parents kept disagreeing on middle names, so they decided not to give me one," he explains.

"Huh," I say. "I'll remember that."

"I don't know your middle name either."

"Technically, I have two. Dominic is the one my parents picked out."

"Victor Dominic Salazar. I like it." I shiver. I feel like my name sounds special coming from him. "What's your other middle name?"

"Oh. Just my confirmation name." We haven't really talked about religion. I don't know if a reminder that my family is super religious is something he needs right now.

"What is it?" he asks curiously.

"I chose Francis."

"You chose your name?"

"That's how confirmations work, at least if you're Catholic. You pick someone from a list, write a paper on them, and then that's your confirmation name," I explain.

Benji bites his lip. "Is that important to you? Religion?"

I look down at the floor and try to figure out how to explain. "It's really important to my parents, especially my mom. We go to church every Sunday and we have since I was born."

"That's not the question I asked," he points out. "You do that a lot. You deflect and answer questions as if you are your family. Is it important to you?"

I frown. "I've never really thought about it," I admit.

Benji squeezes my hand. "I think it's great that you're so close with your family, but it's okay to be… you, you know?"

"Yeah. I think I'm starting to realize that." I bring my hand up and run it through his hair. "Come on," I say as I stand up. I pull him to his feet. "We've got to clean."

We make slow progress. It's kind of like we're interviewing each other while we clean. We talk about our favorites - food, season, word (this was his question), color. His are meatballs, summer, brouhaha, and turquoise respectively. Then there's music and movies and TV shows and books. I don't particularly like to read, but Benji used to love it (he now focuses on his music instead of reading) and his face lights up when he talks about the books he read when he was younger.

Then we talk about family. Benji's an only child and seems fascinated by the dynamic between me and my siblings. It's the first time that we've done something like this, and I feel like it's exhausting and rejuvenating at the same time.

"Oh shit," I say when I look at the clock. "I really have to go." I swear, I exist in an alternate dimension when I'm with Benji; somewhere where three and a half hours somehow feels like minutes. I'm so screwed. I'm already past curfew. "Don't you have a curfew?"

Benji shrugs. "Yes, but it's late. Between work and band practice, my parents had to be flexible with it. Plus, they're away this weekend. My dad's cousin, like a fifth cousin a hundred times removed or something like that, got married today, so they've been in Aruba since Wednesday."

I want to ask him how band practice has been. Without any gigs on the horizon, they've only been practicing once a week, but I don't know how that's been with Derek. I don't ask because I know I'm running on stolen time right now, and I don't think I can give my mom much more before she assumes I've been kidnapped. I'm surprised she hasn't called me a million times. When I check my phone, I realize it's dead. I knew I forgot to charge it last night, but I thought I had enough battery.

"Can I borrow your phone real quick?" I ask. "I need to let my mom know I'm alive."

He passes me his phone and I call my mom. I quickly explain that I worked late (it's not technically a lie), and I have to promise her I'll be home in ten minutes about a hundred times before she lets me hang up.

When I get home, my mom is sitting at the kitchen table staring at the door. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. My phone died. Where's dad?" I ask.

She doesn't answer me. Instead, she says, "he's really disappointed in you. This is the third time you've missed curfew this month." She's not wrong, but this is only the second time I missed it because of Benji. I don't know if that makes it better. The last time I missed curfew, I was only out front of the building with Felix. He's really upset about this whole thing with Lake. I personally think he can do better than someone that doesn't want anyone to know they're hooking up, but I think he's actually in love with her, so I get his reluctance to end things. "And now you're lying to us?"

"I'm not lying," I insist. "I was at work."

She scoffs. "Do I look like I was born yesterday? That coffee shop you work at closed four hours ago."

I close my eyes. I know this is it. She's set me up perfectly; the only other way to explain would be a lie, and I don't want to lie anymore. I sit down across from her. "I was at work late," I repeat. "I was talking to Benji. Do you remember him? From my birthday party?"

"The gay one," she says. Her eyes narrow slightly. She'd defended me that day, but I know it had more to do with the fact that she's programmed to disagree with my grandparents than it did with her actual approval of my stance.

I wince. Of course, that's what she would remember. "Yeah. Um… the thing is…" I'm starting to have trouble breathing. How am I supposed to tell her this? How am I supposed to tell my super religious mother that I'm gay too? "I…" It's really hot in my kitchen. I've never noticed that before. I try to take a deep breath, but it gets caught in my throat. I cough but that doesn't clear it. I close my eyes and before I can change my mind, I tell her, "I'm gay. I was with Benji because we're kind of together."

Silence, silence, and more silence. I wonder if she's in shock. I look at the clock on the wall. I feel like the second hand is crawling. Surely, time moves faster than that. She's silent for a long time. Nearly thirty seconds. I know it probably doesn't seem like much time, but it feels like hours to me. "Mando!" she calls.

I jump at her sudden volume. My dad comes in a moment later. He's wearing his reading glasses, so he must have been looking over building plans or something. He's holding a wrapped-up newspaper and is clearly looking around for a bug. If this wasn't such a serious situation, I would laugh that he assumes that her frantic tone had to do with a bug and not with me. "What's going on?" he asks when he sees us sitting together.

"Tell him. Tell him what you just told me," my mom says. She crosses her arms.

I feel myself mentally sinking into my chair. I've never seen the look in her eyes directed toward me before. It makes me feel like I'm the bug she wants my dad to squash.

"What's going on? Victor?" my dad asks. He doesn't look nearly as hostile as my mom; he looks kind of nervous. "Is this Mia? Did the two of you do something?"

"What? No." Is that what he thinks this is? Does he think I sat down with mom to discuss my sex life? Hell no. "Actually, Mia and I broke up. We broke up because… I'm gay." Surprisingly, not as hard as telling my mom. My dad looks surprised, but he's not looking at me like he's waiting for God to smite me, so I'll take that as a good thing.

"Do you see what happened?" my mom asks angrily. "You wouldn't pay for basketball, so he got that job working with that boy and now he thinks he's gay!"

I'm staring at my mom with a mixture of shock and horror. How can she have just said the words, 'he thinks he's gay'? I didn't think she was going to be happy with this but I didn't think she'd question whether it was true. "I don't think I'm gay; I know I am. And Benji didn't do this," I say evenly. I'm surprised by how well I'm holding my cool. "I've been questioning for a long time."

My mom stands up. "This isn't you. I would know," she argues.

"Really?" I snap. I climb to my feet as well. I don't think I've ever shouted at my parents before. Never. Not once. "How would you know if this is me? From all the time we spend together not talking? Face it. You don't want me to be gay, but this isn't something you have control over. It's not something I have control over. I tried to fight it, but it didn't work."

"Obviously not very hard."

"Mami, I'm sorry if this is upsetting you. I really thought I could like Mia, but I don't feel the right way about her."

"There are other girls," she points out. "You just haven't met the right one."

"If I was going to like a girl, it would be Mia."

"You can't possibly know that," she argues.

"Yes, I can. Because I have something to compare it to," I tell her. "When I'm with Benji…"

"I don't want to hear this. You're too young to know. You don't have enough experience," she argues.

"Really? I'm sorry I don't have your experience. Maybe I should sleep with dad's boss too, just to be sure." I don't plan the words and once they're out, I wish I could take them back. She just got to me.

I feel like I'm going to throw up. Why the hell did I say that? I'm supposed to be the fixer, but I'm pretty sure I just irreparably broke something between us.

My mom doesn't say anything. She stands up and walks away without another word. I hear her bedroom door slam shut.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean that. I just got mad."

My dad's face is eerily neutral. "I'm going to go talk to her."

He's nearly out of the kitchen before I find my voice. "Pop?" I ask. He stops walking away from me but doesn't turn to face me. "Do you remember what you told me when I asked how you knew mom was the one? You told me that you never felt so connected to someone as you did with her. That's how I feel with Benji."

My dad doesn't acknowledge what I said before he walks away. At least he doesn't slam the door when he goes into his room.

I feel sluggish as I go to my room. When I get there, I hear static and, "Victor, come in." Felix yawns. "Victor."

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Meet me outside. Now."

I sigh. I really don't want to deal with Lake drama right now, but if he wants to meet right now, he probably really needs to talk. I throw the walkie-talkie on my bed.

When I get outside, Felix is sitting on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. I join him. "What's up?" I ask.

He doesn't answer; instead, he hugs me. It throws me off. "What's going on?" I ask. He still hasn't let go of me and it's starting to make me uncomfortable.

"You… have really thin walls," he says slowly. "That or you and your mom were being particularly loud."

I look at him horrified. "No."

"I'm sorry. If it helps, I think I only heard because I was in the hallway."

I really hope that's true because the only thing worse than our fight would be knowing people heard our fight. "You heard what I said to her?"

He nods. "For the record, I'm team Victor. I think she pushed you too far. It's not your fault."

I shake my head. "I crossed a line."

"So did she. You are exactly who you are supposed to be, and I'm sorry if she can't see that." Felix looks at me nervously. "When you first told me, I couldn't see it. You and Benji. Now that I've seen the two of you together? You make me want what the two of you have."

I look at him. "What do you mean?"

"You just seem so sure of each other. And so comfortable. You're different than you were with Mia. Good different," he explains. "And everything you do for him… the coffees, the notes, the tickets… it's like you want him to know he's worth everything. I know it makes you uncomfortable when I talk like this, but you made me realize what I want from a relationship. It really hit me today when you bought those tickets. I know it's not the same because you haven't been hiding your relationship because you're ashamed of him; you've been hiding it because you're scared, but you still made the choice that he's more important than your fear. I want that, and I think I deserve that. I gave Lake an ultimatum today… and she passed. Hard. So, we're done."

"I'm so sorry," I tell him seriously. "I know how much you liked her."

"Well, if she liked it then she should have put a boutonniere on it." I chuckle. Trust Felix to find humor in shitty situations. "No. I've spent years thinking of Lake as this goddess. I realize I need to let her go. I deserve someone who's not ashamed to be with me."

"You're right," I agree. "And just because you might not find her here, doesn't mean you won't find her."

"How'd things go with Benji today?"

"He said yes." I can feel the smile on my face, but I don't feel as happy as I thought I would. I know that has nothing to do with Benji; I doubt anything could lift my mood right now.

"That's really great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks."

We sit on the wall for a few minutes in silence before we go back in. I can hear my parents from their bedroom. I can't make out what they're specifically saying, but I can tell they're angry. I'm so distracted by that, I don't notice Pilar right away. She's sitting on the couch and is leaning forward with her hands clasped as if she's praying. When she hears me, she looks at me. She's been crying, and I realize then that she must have heard our argument. I should have known. We weren't exactly quiet and, if Felix heard us from the outside hallway, of course, Pilar heard.

"Pilar, I'm…" I don't have the chance to get my apology out because suddenly, she's hugging me. I'm not sure if she's hugging me or trying to squeeze the life out of me because her grip is really tight.

"I love you, you know," she whispers. "No matter who you love. You're my brother and my rock. I just needed you to know that."

I finally return her embrace. I rest my head on her shoulder. "Thanks. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to make you mad."

She pulls back and looks at me angrily. There's the hostility I've been waiting for. "Why would I be mad?" she asks.

"For starting a fight with mom? For doing something that's only going to hurt all of us," I suggest. I glance toward the wall that my parents were currently fighting behind. "I don't know if we'll survive this."

"You're not the one that's hurting our family. That's mom. She started it when she slept with dad's boss and moved us halfway across the country," she assures me. "And she's hurting us now. This isn't on you."

It's so surprising. I really thought she'd be placing blame. I guess she is. Just not on me. "Thanks… for taking this so well."

She shrugs. "I'm not tired. Do you want to watch a movie?"

It throws me off that she wants to do something so normal. "Sure," I agree. I don't think I could fall asleep if I tried, and it's probably better if I'm not left alone with my thoughts. She puts on a really bad horror movie. I don't think she started off liking horror movies - she did it for the shock value, but she seems to genuinely love them now. It's a creepy movie and I try to focus on what's happening on screen instead of on my parents, but my mind keeps wandering back to them.

About halfway through the movie, Pilar is out cold. There are literally growling zombies and the sounds of terrified screaming coming from our television, but she's somehow sleeping through that. I move as quietly as possible, so I don't wake her up. I drape a blanket over her and go to my bedroom. I plug in my phone to charge and beeline to my laptop.

I haven't messaged Simon in over a week. Once he finished grilling me about how things were going with Benji, there wasn't much to say. Now, there's so much to say, I don't even know where to start. It's not novel-length, but it's a pretty long message. I know it's rambly, but I don't know what to cut out, so I send it as is.

I flop on my bed and close my eyes. It doesn't take me long to realize that sleep is a lost cause. My phone dings, and I open Instagram on my laptop.

Dear Victor,

I'm really sorry about your parents. It probably doesn't feel like it, but you did the right thing. You have to remind yourself that you're not the one at fault. You shouldn't have to keep secrets from your parents to avoid upsetting them. It's not your job to change for your parents; it's their job to change for you. What you did was really hard and, even if they didn't take it well, you should be so proud of yourself. I know I am.

I know it's not the same, but when I came out to my dad… it didn't go great. It took a while before we talked and got to a good place, but we got there. Give your parents some time. Hopefully, you can get there too.

How are things with Benji?

Love, Simon

I quickly answer him. This message is drastically different from the first one I sent. Everything about Benji makes me happy and that definitely comes across in my message. I would go as far as to say I'm gushing, but I don't care. I tack on a question at the end to ask why he's up so late. He's never sent me a message after midnight before.

It turns out that Simon is 'painting the town red' with Bram and his roommates. It's someone's birthday and judging by the GIF Simon sent me, he's really enjoying himself. At least one of us is having fun.

Around 2 am, Simon sends me his number and "FAECTIME ME!". I creep out of my bedroom. Pilar's still asleep on the couch, so I tiptoe out of our apartment, grabbing my keys on the way.

I go all the way outside. The light nearby is flickering and this is kind of reminding me of the horror movie we just watched. For whatever reason, Benji's completely irrational fear that I may have gotten kidnapped the other night doesn't seem so far-fetched in the dark, so I retreat back inside and sit at the bottom of the first-floor stairs. The chance of anyone overhearing me here is slim.

I go back to Simon's message and click on his number. I've only ever seen pictures of him on Instagram, so seeing him in person (sort of) is weird. He looks so much more… human. He's currently trying to fit three other people onto his screen and is struggling. He must be at someone's apartment… or his apartment, I realize.

"Victor!" Simon says excitedly. He looks so happy to see me. That in itself lifts my mood significantly. "Victor, have you met Bram?"

I haven't, but I recognize him from Simon's Instagram. Bram smiles sheepishly, as if he's apologizing for Simon, and gives me an uncomfortable wave. "Hey. I've heard a lot about you."

I grin. "It's nice to meet you," I say. I expect Simon to finish the introductions and when he doesn't, I continue, "uh… hi everyone else. I'm Victor."

"Oh right. These are our roommates," Simon slurs. I don't know what's happening behind his phone, but he keeps getting distracted by something and looking off into the distance. "I do not need water! I am not thirsty."

I must look as confused as I feel because Bram jumps in. "Don't mind him… he had a little too much fun tonight. You're going to drink the water so you don't have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow."

"I'm not that drunk," Simon insists. He looks at me pleadingly. "Right?"

"I mean. You spelled FaceTime wrong, so maybe…" I admit.

Simon puts his hand over his heart. "Betrayed." That's all he says, but I'm nearly falling off the step because I'm laughing so hard. It's not even that funny, but something about how he says it and the fact that Bram has to step off screen so he can calm himself down. Even when my laughter subsides, I'm overcome by spontaneous giggles. As if nothing happened, Simon continues, "Anyway, I'm not…" he doesn't finish before he sees something behind his phone, and his eyes get big. "Are you making freaking waffles?"

I hear a muffled, "only if you drink water." It sounds like it's coming from a girl and I realize that must be who Simon keeps looking at.

Simon holds out his hand and Bram returns with a glass of water and a relieved look on his face. He sits down next to Simon and watches to make sure Simon starts to drink it. I start to get uncomfortable with the silence. "So, whose birthday is it?" I ask.

A girl I've never seen before pops on screen. She's wearing an apron and is holding a long spoon in her hand. "Hi, I'm Ivy."

"Hey. Happy birthday."

"Thanks," she says with a grin.

"We should sing!" Simon says excitedly.

A horrified look crosses Ivy's face. "Um… I've got to finish the waffles." She disappears as quickly as she appeared.

Bram shakes his head. "So that was Ivy. This is Justin and that's Kim."

"I didn't know you had roommates."

"We couldn't afford an apartment in Brooklyn otherwise," he explains. He looks at one of his roommates… I already forgot his name. I feel like I'm missing a conversation between them because the roommate nods. Bram takes the phone from Simon so now I'm only looking at him. "I don't want to freak you out, but Simon filled us in on a little bit of what's been happening with you and what happened tonight." I don't fully understand his words and when I do, I feel like I'm going to throw up. "We want you to know that we're all here for you. You may think it's just Simon in your corner, but it's all of us. I know you're probably angry." Understatement. Of. The. Century. "Simon didn't tell us maliciously."

"Why?" I ask quietly. "Why did he tell you?" My voice is shaking. I really didn't need this tonight.

Bram hesitates. "I was with Simon when you sent him that first message," he explains. "He was honored that you reached out… and scared. He wanted to give you the right advice and didn't want to push you too hard. He gets in his head with this stuff, especially since his coming out was very different from the rest of ours."

Simon is suddenly on screen. He looks serious which I didn't think was possible with his glassy eyes and red cheeks. "Bram's right. I've never had a girlfriend, but he has. And I have the opposite of religious parents, but Justin… Justin knows what you're going through with your parents. I promise, I only gave them the CliffNotes version. I'm really freaking sorry that I didn't tell you sooner."

"Why are you telling me now?" I ask.

The phone is a blur of movement, and I have to look away because it makes me feel nauseated. I hear a door open and close and don't look back at the screen until Justin starts to speak. "Simon told you now because he wanted me to talk to you." His voice sounds a little echoey but not so much that I can't understand him.

"Why? You don't know me."

Justin sighs. "I know, but I do know a little about what you're going through."

"So, what? Are we supposed to sit here and swap stories about our sad, miserable lives?" I bite out. I feel bad once I say it. "I'm sorry. I've just had a really bad night, and I didn't need this on top of that."

Justin looks deep in thought. "I get it." He must be in a stairwell because he sits down, and I can briefly see the dirty underside of some stairs. "Right now, it feels sad and miserable, but it won't always feel that way. I still remember coming out to my parents and how it felt like my world had ended when they rejected me. I know Simon told you in his message that they might move past this, but the reality is that they might not." I stare at him horrified. "I know. That's not what I'm supposed to say, right?"

"It's not what I was expecting," I agree.

"When I look back on the disaster that was coming out, I wish someone had been upfront with me. All of my friends kept telling me that it would get better and it was like I was reopening my wound every time it didn't. I wish one person had told me that it would be okay if my parents couldn't accept me and…" Justin hesitates and looks intently at the screen. I have to look away. "I'm not trying to make assumptions about you, but I felt like it was a reflection of who I was that my parents couldn't accept me. And it's not."

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

"I kept thinking that if they couldn't accept me then I'd done something wrong. Maybe I'd come out too soon or said the wrong thing or, or, or," he explains. "It wasn't until I moved here that I realized it wasn't on me to change where I was to suit my parents. It's on them to change and accept me."

"That's almost what Simon said," I observe.

"He always steals my words," Justin grumbles. "Be honest. I delivered them better, right?"

I chuckle. "Totally," I agree. "Were your parents religious?"

"So religious that every Sunday, the three of us used to dress up and go door to door to convince people to join a religion I knew would want nothing to do with me once I dropped the pretense." He looks at the wall to the side of him and the hand he's using to hold the phone starts to shake. "I came out to them right after I graduated high school… it wasn't pretty. I'd thought having a plan to move and have a fresh start would help, but it didn't soften that blow at all. I moved to New York a few weeks later, and I… haven't seen my parents since."

"That's really shitty," I say quietly. "Do you miss them?"

"Part of me will always miss them," he says. "My roommates don't know this, but I text them every holiday. I think I'll always hope that they'll come around and text me back one of these days, but I'm not going to put my life on hold waiting for that to happen. I love the family I've found here and when I feel like my parents left me broken, they're here to pick up the pieces and remind me that it's okay that they're not in my life anymore. I'm living the life I'm meant to be living, and I can't compromise myself to make my parents happy, especially when they were unwilling to do the same. I'm not saying we're the same, but I understand a little of what you're going through. If you want to talk, I'm here." I'm not sure if he means right now or in general. Considering we're talking on Simon's phone, I'm guessing he means right now.

At first, I'm not sure if I can talk to him. He's practically a stranger or, at least, he should be. Maybe it's because he opened up to me, but it doesn't feel that way. I feel like he might get it. "My parents are religious too. Not like yours, but I wonder if that's why they reacted the way they did. Did Simon tell you everything with that?"

"Not everything. Just that you came out and got in a fight with them."

"That's the short version," I agree.

"What's the long version?"

Somehow, it all comes out. Everything. Working with Benji and Willacoochee and breaking up with Mia. Felix and my parents and Benji some more. I talk so long, my arm starts to feel sore from holding up my phone. Justin reacts exactly how I need him to - he asks questions, provides reassurance, acts outraged. It surprises me when I realize I've been on FaceTime for well over two hours. Most of that had to have been with Justin. I feel empty and exhausted now. By the time I tell him about the fight with my mom, I'm drained. "So, yeah. That's everything."

Justin quickly wipes his eyes. Did I make him cry? "Girl, I wish I could give you a hug right now." His eyes well up with tears again, and I try to push aside my discomfort with that. "Since I can't, this is what I will say. You are perfect exactly the way you are." I look away from him. "I'm serious."

"Thanks," I whisper.

"How did it feel to get all of that out?" he asks.

"Exhausting," I answer honestly.

"Maybe you should try to get some sleep," he suggests.

"No point. I have to be up in like two hours for work." I groan as I realize just how rough work is going to be. At least I'll get to see Benji.

"Then why the hell did you call Simon?" Justin asks incredulously.

I shrug. "I wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway; I thought calling would help. It did," I point out.

Justin grins. "Good. I'm glad." He stands up abruptly. "Are you okay if I bring you back in?"

I nod. Justin flips the camera, so I'm looking away from him, and the phone is a blur of motion again. When he gets inside, I see that everyone has migrated to their kitchen table. It surprises me when I see Bram standing behind Simon with his arms wrapped around and his chin resting on Simon's shoulder. They're in their apartment and I know they've been together a while, so it shouldn't throw me off. I think it's the comfort of his pose. Bram doesn't look nervous or afraid. He just looks… content. "Do you want pancakes or waffles?" Ivy asks Justin.

"You made both? What happened to all that zen 'my body is a temple' crap?"

"It is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, and a little haunted." Ivy sticks out her tongue. I can't see Justin's reaction, but she flips him off so he must have done something. "How's Victor? Is he feeling any better?" Her face contorts with concern, and I'm surprised by how much she seems to care. She doesn't really know me.

Before Justin has the chance to explain that I'm still on the phone, Simon asks, "do you think he'll forgive me? You told him, right? You told him that I'm the worst advice giverer? That you guys were the only reason that my messages made even sense a little?" Simon holds up his hand to make a pinch, but Bram covers his hand with his own. He's shaking his head amused.

I'm so distracted by this, it takes me a moment to answer, "I forgive you." My response draws attention to the fact that I'm virtually in the room with them. I don't know that I was ever really mad at him. I was just frustrated with everything happening in my life, and it was easy to direct all of that toward him when I found out.

"Yeah, so Victor's still here," Justin says casually.

Ivy gets closer to the camera. "I'd offer you pancakes or waffles, but phones don't work like that yet."

"That's okay," I say with a grin. Ivy disappears from the screen again. "I'm sorry that I snapped earlier. I've been having a time, but I shouldn't have taken that out on you."

"You don't need to apologize. I'm the one that fucked up." Simon grabs his phone and turns it so he's facing the front camera which means I see everyone except for him. "I should have told you about my roommates from the very first beginning."

"It's okay," I promise him. "You know I can't see you, right?" When Simon flips the camera, he's so close to his screen that I initially just get a close-up of his forehead.

Someone takes me out of Simon's hand and props his phone against the wall by their kitchen table. Now I can see everyone. I know it's not the same as me being there with them, but I kind of love that I'm part of their almost 5 am breakfast ritual.

I'm on the phone with them until my phone battery gets down to 5%. The sun has long since risen and they all need to go to bed - though Simon has adamantly announced he will not be conscious before 2 pm. I know I need to get ready for work. I'm hoping a shower will do wonders for my sudden fatigue.

My dad is awake when I get in. He's making something in the kitchen and I can see the sun shining through the window. He doesn't ask where I've been. I tell him I'm going to take a shower and stop by my room only to plug in my phone.

My shower is the opposite of rejuvenating. I doze off a few times and feel like I'm made of concrete by the time I get dressed for the day.

I debate hiding in my bedroom. I don't know if trying to talk to my dad will do more harm or good, but I know if I put this off, I'm not going to stop thinking about it and then I really will be useless.

I go to the kitchen and sit down at our table. I can't help but compare it to Simon's kitchen table. His felt much more welcoming. "Morning," I say quietly.

My dad grunts. "I was going to make scrambled eggs. Want some?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I bite my lip. He doesn't ask, but I explain anyway. "I was in the building. I was just sitting on the stairs. I needed some space."

He audibly sighs. "I know you want to talk about this, but I need some time," he says.

I didn't think we're being very loud, but we must have woken up Pilar. That or she wasn't sleeping well on the couch. It's possible; it's not a very comfortable couch.

"Where's mom?" Pilar asks when she sits next to me.

Our dad noticeably freezes. "I'm right here, amore," my mom says. We both turn and she's standing behind us with her massive suitcase. I thought I was the only one who lost sleep last night but that's obviously not the case. My mom looks like she could collapse where she stands.

"Where are you going?" Pilar asks. She's instantly defensive.

"Your father and I had a long talk last night," she starts. Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. "We know that something has been off with us for a long time. We were so young when we got married and while we wouldn't take back a second of it because it gave us some amazing kids…." I wonder if she's including me in that. She's not looking at me, so I doubt it. "But over the years, we've changed."

My mom's eyes fill with tears and my dad takes over. "What happened in Texas with my boss… it happened for a reason. Neither of us has been who the other deserves lately. We've been talking about this for a while and we feel like now is the right time to… put some space between us."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"We're separating," my mom answers. She's still not looking at me. I feel my heart sink. This is my fault. They are doing this because of me. "We need to take some time and figure out if we still want the same things and if we make sense together."

"Where are you going?" Pilar repeats her question from earlier. I hadn't realized my mom hadn't answered it.

"I'm taking a bus to my sister's. I'll stay with her for a few weeks and then I'll come back, and your father and I? We'll figure it out," she explains. "We can't figure this out if we keep pretending that we're the same people we were when we got married. We need some space."

"And you're leaving now?" Pilar asks incredulously.

"Saturdays are the only day I can catch a bus with only two transfers between here and Texas. If I don't catch this bus, I'd have to wait a week. We both agreed that the sooner I leave, the sooner I'll be ready to come back." She walks over to Pilar and hugs her tightly. Pilar does not hug her back. I don't know if she's stunned or angry - probably both. "Take care of your little brother, okay? I'll be back before you know it."

"You're not going to say goodbye to Adrian?" Pilar asks. Her voice is surprisingly level. She must be next-level angry right now.

"I am. Right before I leave. We're not going to give him all the details, but I'm going to say goodbye," she assures her.

My mom turns to me. She doesn't say anything, but she does hug me tightly.

Without giving us another look, she goes to Adrian. Pilar and I both turn to our dad. "This is because of me, right?" I ask.

"No," my dad says seriously. "We've been talking about this for a long time."

"Why else would you decide this now?" I think I sound a little more frantic than I mean to, but it's really hitting me that I may have broken my parents up.

My dad looks at me for the first time since I came out to him. "This is not your fault. Your mother and I are different people and we need some time to figure out how different. That's it. It's not your fault," he repeats.

I look down at the table. I don't believe him and based on Pilar's silence, she doesn't either. I'm pretty sure whatever progress we made last night is gone. My dad puts plates of eggs in front of us, but I have trouble eating them. I'm sure they're delicious, but they taste like sand to me right now.

"I have to get to work," I say before I'm even close to finishing. I run to my room and grab my stuff before I'm out the door.

Benji's already there when I get to work. He takes one look at me and ushers me into the back. He reappears a moment later with a coffee in hand. "You need to drink this whole thing before you come out, okay?" he orders.

"I'm fine. I don't need this."

"Victor, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit." He smiles and when I don't return it, he continues, "as your boyfriend, I insist you drink this coffee."

I'm so tired that I don't understand why he gets so flustered. He's saying something, but I don't hear it because I finally understand his words. "Boyfriend," I whisper. I feel like this is the only thing that makes sense in my life right now. "I like that."

Benji looks relieved. "Good. Look, I've got to get back out front. Sarah did inventory and helped me open early this morning, so it's just you and me. Drink that whole thing and then we can talk."

It takes me a surprisingly long time to drink the coffee. I feel like my body is rejecting anything that could delay the sleep it now craves. When I get out front there is a line that Benji is doing his best to work through. I move on autopilot. I don't know if I make the correct orders, but as far as I'm aware, no one complains. Saturday mornings are always busy with sleepy people getting ready to run errands and today seems particularly crowded. We don't get a break the first three hours of our shift. I think it helps; not being able to stop means that I can't succumb to exhaustion.

When the line finally abates and there's no one new waiting for their coffee, I slump against the counter. "Do you want to talk about it?" Benji asks.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," I admit.

"I gathered," he says dryly.

"I… came out to my parents last night."

Benji wraps a towel around his hand. "What happened?" I can tell he suspects but is hoping he's wrong.

"It wasn't good. My mom didn't want to believe it, and I said something really bad to her."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"She told me I didn't have enough experience, so I told her that maybe I should sleep with my dad's boss too." The words sound harsher the third time I'm saying them out loud, and I cringe thinking about the fact they came from me. It's so hard for me to wrap my head around it because I don't want to be the kind of person that says stuff like that.

"Oh." I can see that's not what Benji was expecting.

"Yeah."

"Okay, so yeah. That's bad," he agrees. "Did you talk to her this morning?"

"I didn't have the chance to."

"Well, maybe you can talk to her after work. I can let you off early if you'd like."

"It wouldn't help. My mom is leaving us. She's probably gone by now. She's going to spend some time in Texas. What can I get for you?" I ask the man that just approached the counter.

I focus intently on the latte I'm making so that I don't have to look at Benji. I don't want to see the look of pity that will inevitably be in his eyes. I can't spend forever making the latte; eventually, I have to turn and face Benji. I'm surprised when I don't see the pity I expected. He just looks… angry? "She left because of this?" He asks incredulously.

"My dad says no. He says they've been talking about it but the timing… It doesn't seem like a coincidence." I sigh. "They've been fighting for a long time, so maybe it's true that they would have separated anyway, but I don't know. I feel like it's my fault. Why else would she be leaving now?"

"It's not your fault. If she left because of you, that's on her. She's the adult."

"But…" I start to say.

"No buts," he interrupts. "It's so fucked up." I stare at him. I don't think I've ever heard him cuss before. "You should never have to be the bigger person with your parents. You did one of the hardest things you'll ever have to do. You gave them a gift by telling them who you are. I'm sorry they didn't see it that way." I smile despite my crappy mood. Under the counter, Benji grabs my hand. It throws me off because we're at work, but I don't try to pull away. "I know firsthand what a gift it is to know you. You'd do anything for the people you care about. You are amazing exactly the way you are. Your parents are crazy if they can't see that."

"Thanks," I say quietly. I have to look away from him because his intensity makes me uncomfortable.

I'm almost relieved when a whole group comes in because it takes us almost twenty minutes to make our way through their orders and by the time we finish, a line has formed with our after-lunch crowd.

Things don't slow down until after our shift ends. Sarah and Courtney take over. Benji and I probably would have stayed, but it's way too crowded with four people working. "It's a good thing you didn't let me leave early, huh?" I tease as I take off my apron in the back. "What would you have done without me?"

"I guess I owe you," he says. He has a mischievous look in his eyes. "How can I ever repay you?"

"It'll have to be something really great… Bye guys." I wave at Sarah and Courtney as we leave. Sarah doesn't acknowledge it - she's making coffee with a stressed-out look on her face.

Once we're outside, I linger because I really don't want to go home. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to come over?" He asks. "Only if you want to. I figured we could watch a movie and maybe make dinner together?"

"Dinner and a movie?" I raise my eyebrows. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"In a stay-at-home way, yes," he answers.

"Show me the way." As we're walking, I text my dad to let him know that I won't be home for a few hours.

It dawns on me that Benji told me last night that his parents aren't home. I don't think he's expecting anything, right? I mean, we've been boyfriends officially for a couple of hours and have only been together two weeks. Admittedly, the idea of sleeping with Benji is not as unsettling as when I thought of Mia, but I still don't think I'm ready.

It makes me nervous and by the time we get to his house, I've built this up in my head. He brings me inside and shows me around. His house isn't big, but it feels spacious compared to my apartment.

We stop outside his bedroom door. I expect there to be some indication that it's his room, but the door is plain. The room behind the door is a different story. Every inch of his walls are covered in a medley of posters, sheet music, and pictures. There are a few empty spots and I feel a little nauseated when I realize those must have been where pictures of him and Derek had hung. We don't have any pictures together yet and I decide that at some point tonight, we have to fix that.

His room is cluttered. The only place that's organized and spacious is the corner where his guitar rests by a Papasan chair under his window. There's a stand with paper on it. Other than that, the area is open. It contrasts with the rest of his room. It's cluttered but clean. There are books and CDs stacked everywhere. His laptop sits on a desk with scattered paper, textbooks, and notebooks. His bed is unmade and I can see shoes peeking out from his askew covers. For some reason, I'd always figured Benji's room would be pristinely clean and organized. I kind of love that it's not.

"Wow," I whisper as I take in his room.

"I know it's messy," he admits. He smiles nervously.

"I think it's great." I look at his posters. There are a handful of movies, but I assume most of them are musicians or bands I haven't heard of. While I'm looking around, my eyes land on one of the pieces of paper on his stand. "Do you write your own music?" I read through the lyrics. They are handwritten and are not from any song I've ever heard. Why has he never mentioned this?

"Oh. That's nothing," he insists. "I just write it on the side sometimes. I mostly focus on rewriting covers for the band."

"It's not nothing," I disagree. "Can I hear something?"

Benji looks at me nervously. "You really don't have to. It's not very good."

I pick up his guitar. "Let me be the judge of that, will you?" I hand him his guitar, and he stands up.

He takes a deep breath before he starts to play. I don't think I'm biased when I say that what he plays is amazing. When he finishes, I clap to show my enthusiasm. "If you can write songs that are that great, why are you only playing covers with your band?" I ask.

"We like playing covers. That's our sound," he deflects. "And you're the first person that's heard a song I wrote; well, aside from my parents and they've only heard because my walls are not soundproof. It's hard to share this with someone because I'm not just singing someone else's words. These are my words."

"That makes sense," I admit. "If you ever decide you're ready to share this with the world, I know one guy that will obnoxiously cheer for you."

Benji chuckles and carefully puts his guitar in the corner. "So, I believe I promised you dinner and a movie. I know it's early, so do you want to wait to eat?" My stomach audibly grumbles in response to his question. I didn't eat much breakfast and we didn't get lunch after our shift. I don't know how he's not starving. He bites his lip so he won't laugh. "Or we can eat right now?"

"Yeah, eating now sounds good," I agree.

I follow him to his kitchen. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Food," I answer.

"That's really helpful," Benji says sarcastically. "I was going to feed you bits of towel."

"Honestly, I'm so hungry, I'd probably eat it," I joke.

"I make a wicked grilled cheese," he says absent-mindedly as he looks through his fridge. "Or we could order something and have it delivered. Your choice."

"I could go for grilled cheese."

As I watch Benji, I feel like he should be wearing a chef's hat or something. He looks so at home in the kitchen. It's one of those things that I hadn't really understood until I saw it. He told me he likes to cook, but he dominates the kitchen. He doesn't look as he grabs a spatula and pan. I'm pretty sure he could make grilled cheese with his eyes closed.

Benji refuses to give me my grilled cheese until it's cooled down a little. I would love to be indignant, but I do not have his patience. I started drinking iced coffee because I kept burning my tongue on hot coffee. I never should have told him about that. Or maybe I should have. When he hands it to me, it's cool enough that I can taste the heavenly grilled cheese but hot enough that it melts in my mouth. "I think this is the best grilled cheese I've ever tasted." I'm not even exaggerating. It's buttery and cheesy and crispy. Perfection. Simply perfection.

"I told you so." Benji sits down next to me. He takes a bite of his sandwich. "Mmm. I am good."

When we finish, we go to his living room. We both sit on the couch and he puts his arm behind me. I lean back toward him and that's it. I'm asleep before I even see what movie he picks.

When I wake up, it's pitch black, and I have Benji in a death grip. He apparently doesn't mind. His eyes are closed, but I can tell from his uneven breathing that he's awake. I loosen my hold but don't withdraw from him entirely. He's really comfortable. "Good morning," he teases. "Did you have a good nap?" I can feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest as he talks.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize. You needed the sleep," he points out.

"What time is it?"

"Probably around 8. I was going to wake you up soon. I wasn't sure what time you wanted to go home."

I sigh. "I don't know. I don't know what's waiting for me at home."

Benji looks over at me and it hits me for the first time that we're very close to each other right now. I'm practically draped over him. "Then don't go home yet. Stay for a bit," he suggests.

I don't answer him. Well, not with words. It's almost like I'm in a dream; it doesn't feel real. I want to be closer to him. His hand comes to my back and rests just under where my shirt has ridden up. His hand on my back is like electricity; it crackles between us. Time is meaningless when we're together like this. Who the hell knows how much time is passing? How are we supposed to keep track of that? There's so much else to keep track of. I'm pretty sure we could kiss like this for the rest of our lives, and I still wouldn't be able to find where my rational thought ran off to.

A ding from my phone pulls me back to reality, and I roll off of him. I'm breathing heavy, and I can hear he's doing the same.

I grab my phone. I'm surprised when I have four messages from my dad and three from Simon. I'll look at Simon's later. I open my dad's messages.

when will you be home

its okay if youre not ready to come home tonight but let me know

I know youre upset but could you let me know youre alive

I didnt buy you a phone so you could ignore me

I quickly answer him. Sorry I fell asleep. Im alive. I don't answer the other questions because I don't know what time I'll be home.

"Everything okay?" Benji asks curiously.

"My dad," I explain. "He wants to know if I was coming home tonight."

"If?" Benji perked up considerably. "Is a sleepover on the table then?"

I hesitate. "Benji, look. I really like you, but I'm not ready for some things."

He looks confused, and I look away from him. He must figure it out because he puts his hand on my chin and turns my head so I'm facing him. "You're talking about sex, right?" I nod nervously, and he drops his hand. He twiddles his hands together. "I wasn't implying that we should sleep together tonight. I'm not ready for that." He looks away from me. "I don't like comparing you to Derek, but I need you to understand this. When I was with him, we started too soon. I think that was part of our problem. We never really let ourselves have time to just talk to each other and get to know each other as boyfriends. Everything between us was mostly physical." Even though he's not looking at me, I have to look away. I did not need to hear that; I did not want to hear that. The very last thing I need in my mind right now is an image of Benji and Derek sleeping together. "It's different with you. I don't feel like there's something missing from our relationship right now. I like that we can talk and take things slow. I want more of this before we do anything."

"Good," I say relieved.

"So, a sleepover is on the table then?" he confirms.

"Let me text my dad. We should probably order dinner." I send my dad a quick text letting him know I'll be home tomorrow. I don't know if he's still planning on going to church tomorrow or if he's skipping now that my mom's gone. He's never made a secret of the fact that he goes to church for her and not for God.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Whatever you want. I'm fine with anything," I promise him. My dad just sends me back a thumbs up. I'm impressed. I didn't think he knew how to use emojis. I open my messages from Simon and freeze.

Benji is looking at the menu of some nearby pizza place when he sees the huge smile on my face. "What's that for?"

"I'll tell you after we order," I promise. I hadn't given much thought to telling Benji about Simon, but I know I need to.

We end up ordering a large cheese pizza. As we eat, I fill in Benji. I tell him all about Simon, how long I've been messaging him, FaceTime last night… or I guess it was technically this morning, and Simon's offer to meet Benji and me for breakfast one day while he and Bram are in Atlanta for a few days next week. It's apparently their spring break. Benji knows of Simon but has never met him in person. I expect him to be uncomfortable that I've been talking to Simon for so long, but he seems happy that I had someone to talk to before I had him. I don't tell him about Simon's offer to host us in New York for a couple of days over the summer. It feels too soon to be planning that far ahead.

I think this is the best night's sleep I've ever gotten. We fall asleep on his bed in the middle of our second attempt to watch a movie. When I wake up, he's still sleeping, but I can see the sun peeking in from behind his curtains. I look over at him. His head is resting on my chest and his arm is draped over my stomach.

His usually perfectly styled hair is everywhere. It sticks up all over the place and kinda gives him a mad scientist look. It takes actual effort not to laugh, but I don't want to wake him up. It's a really cute look on him; it's just really unexpected.

He wakes up about half an hour later. "Morning," he whispers. He has this sleepy smile on his face that completely melts my heart.

"Morning," I whisper back.

He leans up and kisses my cheek. I turn my head so he can kiss me for real. His lips barely graze mine before we hear a door slam downstairs. I freeze. Benji does not look worried at all. "I told them you were here," he explains.

"Benji," his mom calls.

"One sec," he calls back. "Do you want to meet my parents, or do you want to wait here?"

I'm nervous at the thought of meeting his parents, but I don't want to awkwardly stand around his bedroom waiting for him to come back. "I'll come with you."

Benji takes my hand, and I follow him to his living room. When his mom sees us, she looks confused about something but quickly hides that. "Mom? Dad? This is Victor," Benji says. He drops my hand and gestures to me. Benji's dad shakes my hand. He's stiff, and I remember that Benji said his dad struggles with this part of him. He's trying though. His mom is the exact opposite. She's all smiles and excitement. She hugs me tightly.

"It's nice to meet both of you." I try not to sound as startled by her hug as I feel.

"We didn't know your friend was still here." She shoots Benji a pointed look. I guess he didn't tell her everything. Benji rolls his eyes.

"We just woke up a few minutes ago," he explains. "How was the wedding?"

"We were going to go out to get some breakfast; there's no way we're making something right now. We can tell you all about it. Victor, you're welcome to join us."

I look at Benji to confirm whether he wants me to join them, but he's looking at his mom with an expression of pure surprise. "You want Victor to get breakfast with us?" he confirms.

"We would love that," his mom agrees.

I'm still looking at Benji, and he subtly nods to me.

"Uh. I'm good for breakfast," I say. "I've just got to text my dad."

"We'll be back in a few minutes," he says. I follow him to his bedroom.

"What was that about?" I ask.

"I just wasn't expecting that," he says. He still looks confused.

"Why not?"

I jump to the worst-case scenario that he didn't think they'd like me, but he explains, "they've never done that before."

"Wait. You mean they never took you and…"

"Once. But we asked them to come," Benji explains.

"Oh." I don't know what to say to that. "Do you think that it's because she thinks I'm your friend?" My voice wavers a little, and I know I have no right to be upset that he told them I'm his friend.

I'm thrown off when he laughs. "That's just what my mom calls people. In her world, there's no such thing as boyfriends or girlfriends. Just friends. I told them about you last week," he explains. "I'll put money on the fact that she'll call Brandon's wife his friend at some point during breakfast if you want to take that bet."

I chuckle. "I'm good," I say.

Benji tosses me a clean t-shirt that he pulled from his dresser. "Do you want sweatpants?" he asks.

"I can just wear these," I say, pointing to the pajama pants he lent me last night.

He grabs jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser and disappears to change in the bathroom. I quickly swap out my Brasstown t-shirt with the new shirt he gave me. I make his bed while I wait for him and sit down on the edge. He comes back a few minutes later. His hair is wet, so he must have jumped in the shower.

"Ready?" he asks.

Breakfast with his parents is weird and fun and amazing. I think Benji is practically floating on a cloud because his mom clearly adores me and his dad and I strike up a conversation about basketball when I tell him I play on the school team. By the end of breakfast, I would go as far as to say that his dad truly likes me. Or he's at least excited at the prospect of having someone to talk to about sports.

Benji is right about his mom. She refers to his cousin's wife as his friend no less than five times during breakfast. I think it's a little strange, but it's her thing, so I let it go.

The next week is pure bliss. Even the empty, quiet of home now that my mom's gone can't fully dampen my mood.

On the day of the dance, Benji intercepts me before school starts. "I don't know how you did it, but my mom wants us to take pictures before the dance."

"How I did what?" I ask uncertainly.

"You were alone with my mom for five minutes yesterday," he points out. "Five minutes and you're suddenly her favorite person and she wants a picture of us together. What happened?"

"Nothing really," I insist. It's not 100% the truth, but I really don't think what we talked about had anything to do with her wanting pictures. She just had the don't-hurt-my-son talk with me. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell Benji about that.

He sighs. "Fine. Don't tell me."

He looks so confused, I decide to tell him. Well, part of it. I am not going to tell him that his mom thinks he's in love with me. I'm going to give him the chance to say it himself… or say it back if I ever work up the nerve to get the words out. "I'm serious. She just told me that I'd better be good to you."

"That makes no sense," he mutters. "Anyway. We don't have to do this."

"Come on. It will be fun," I tell him. We don't have enough pictures together and I have a feeling I'm always going to want to remember what Benji looks like when he dresses up.

"Then I'm going to invite some of my friends over as well if you're cool with that. You can invite Felix. That way it's not just the two of us at the mercy of my parents."

I chuckle. I actually really like his parents, but I think he's still waiting for them to make things weird. "Sounds like a plan," I agree. The bell rings. "I'll see you at lunch." I squeeze his hand before I run off to the gym. I'm slowly getting more comfortable with small gestures like that in public… well, in school-public. Even Benji is cautious when we're outside of our school bubble.

When I find Felix before lunch, he agrees to go to Benji's for pictures. Wendy asked him to the dance and I think he's thrilled to have a date. We walk over to the lunch table we've been sitting at with Benji, and I look around to find him; he's usually here before us. I'm surprised when I see him approaching the table with Pilar. They're both smiling when Benji takes his usual seat next to me. Pilar sits across from us next to Felix.

"Hey," I say.

"I asked Pilar if she wanted to join us for pictures tonight," Benji explains. "She said she'd love to."

"Oh, great." I feel a little guilty that I hadn't thought of that myself.

Pilar and I haven't talked much since our mom left. That doesn't change as we're walking to Benji's.

Pictures are not what I was expecting. His parents take what feels like a million pictures. Us as a group, Benji and me, Pilar and me, all the different couples, more group pictures, all the guys, all the girls, more group pictures, more of Benji and me in about a hundred different poses.

My jaw hurts from smiling by the time Benji tells them they've taken enough pictures. "I feel like you let them go that long to prove a point," I whisper.

"You're the one that said pictures would be fun. I just wanted to give you the full experience," he retorts.

I'm about to say something when I notice his mom takes a candid shot of us and waves his dad over to show him. "More pictures," I groan.

Benji chuckles. "Okay, are we ready?" he asks loud enough for everyone to hear. I don't know if the plan initially was to walk to school, but our group is too big for anything else to make sense.

When we get to school, I look at Benji nervously. Everyone we're with obviously knows we're together, but I know that most people are going to find out when we walk through these doors. "Ready?" I ask, holding out my hand.

He takes it and nods. "Yes. I trust you," he says sincerely.

I'm never going to stop smiling. Never. It's like those three little words erase all the fear and guilt I'd been harboring over how we started our relationship. I hold his hand just a little tighter as we walk in.

It's not as bad as I'm expecting. Benji's friends and Felix kind of hover by us at the beginning, ensuring that nothing other than surprised stares can reach us. When we start to dance, I'm so unaware of everyone else in the room. It's hard to think about anything when Benji is in front of me.

At one point, I spot Mia dancing with Andrew. I really hope they're happy together.

The awkward part of the night comes when Lake comes up to me and Benji. "So are you two like together now?" she asks.

"Mia didn't tell you?" I ask surprised.

She shakes her head as the song changes. It's a slow song. "Victor, I demand a dance." She grabs my wrist and drags me away from Benji. I look back at Benji, but he's already moving to take a seat.

I put my hands on Lake's shoulder, and she puts hers on my waist. "This is fun," I say politely.

"No, it's not," she contradicts. "I'm sure you'd rather be with Benji, but… I didn't know you were with him. How did you decide to be with him instead of Mia?"

I look at her surprised. "How?" I confirm. She nods. "I don't know that I did decide. When I'm with him, I'm really happy." I look around and when I spot him, he's watching me and Lake dance. "It was really a decision about what was more important. Did I want to be happy or did I want everyone to like me?"

"Aren't you afraid of what people will think when they see you with him?" she asks.

I finally get it. I get what she's trying to find out and why she's asking me these questions. It seems so obvious now. "Yes," I answer honestly. "But with Benji, it's worth it." I hesitate. "You don't really want to know about me and Benji, do you? Lake, Felix is a really great guy. You'd be so lucky to have him in your life."

"I know," she agrees.

"Only you can decide if your reputation is more important than him. I can't make that decision for you." The song ends, but I don't let go of her. "All I can tell you is that it never felt like a choice with Benji. From the very beginning, I felt drawn to him and the thought of him not being in my life…" I shake my head. "When I'm with him, I'm as strong as I need to be. Only you know if you feel that way about Felix."

"Thanks. You are a really great guy. Benji's lucky," she tells me.

I smile. "We're both really lucky."

I give Lake a quick hug and go back to Benji. I really hope she talks to Felix. I don't think anything would make him happier. "What was that about?" he asks.

"She needed advice about Felix," I explain.

I sit down next to him and he puts his hand around my shoulder. I rest my head on his shoulder and our hands find each other. We sit like that for a couple of songs before they ask us to gather around for the announcement of the Spring Fling king and queen. Benji and I stand close to the stage. He has his arms wrapped around me and our entwined hands rest against my stomach. While we're waiting, I catch Mia's eye. She looks a little sad when she sees me, but she doesn't look angry. I'm hoping that maybe the pain of what I put her through is starting to fade.

When they announce her name and Andrew's, I clap enthusiastically. She does look really happy as she hugs him and they come out to the middle of the floor. They dance together by themselves for a minute before other couples are encouraged to join the dance floor.

Lake grabs the microphone and clears her throat. "Hi everyone," she says nervously. I stare at her and feel like my heart is pounding in my chest. Is she going to do this? I find Felix. He's looking at her like she's the sun. I really hope she's about to do what I think she's doing. The DJ pauses the music. "I'm Lake. Um, so, yeah. I'd like to invite Felix Weston to dance with me. Someone taught me tonight that if you really like someone, they're more important than your fear. Felix, I am terrified to be with you, and not just for the reasons you know. I have spent my whole life living in my mother's shadow, and I thought all I wanted was for someone to see me for me. When it happened, it scared me. But when I was talking to Victor, he told me the question he asked himself was whether he wanted to be happy or whether he wanted everyone to like him. I want to be happy. Felix, I want to be happy with you. So, here in front of all of our friends and classmates, with everyone watching us, will you join me for this dance?"

I'm practically bouncing up and down as Felix goes to the stage and kisses her. Benji and I join the throngs of people clapping for him before the music resumes. I missed that Lake mentioned me, but several people come up to Benji and me while we dance.

After the king and queen dance, "Call Me Maybe" comes on. I look at Benji, and he's trying too hard to look casual. "Did you request this?" I ask.

"I didn't not request this," he answers.

I roll my eyes. We have to dance to this. Despite how fast the song is, we do a slightly accelerated slow dance. "What are you thinking about?" I ask him. He has a small smile on his face and a far-off look in his eyes.

"The first time we danced to this. You'd just made fun of the music that Sarah loves, which instantly put you in my good books. I think that's when I started to like you," he explains.

I smile. "Did I amaze you with my rump-shaking?" I joke.

He chuckles. "No. I think it was how easy that moment was. How easy every moment with you has been. It's really easy to be myself with you, and I always feel like I'm enough." I'm not expecting a serious answer, so it throws me off. "You asked me the other day, but then your dad called, and I never got to give you an answer."

"Thank you for telling me," I say quietly. We sway for a moment. "Do you remember when we were at my apartment?"

He looks at me curiously. "Monday?"

"We were sitting on my bed and you threw a sour gummy bear at me."

"I told you to catch it," he reminds me.

"You did," I agree. "You wanted me to catch it in my mouth, but your aim was so terrible that it hit my forehead. I couldn't stop laughing." I take a deep breath. "That's when I knew… that I'm in love with you."

We stop swaying, and Benji's eyes comically widen. He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Wednesday," he decides. "I had a big History test. You wrote me a note and left it in my locker. You had to have written it the day before because I found it before school. It wasn't all that special, but you told me that you knew I would do great. And you signed it 'Love, Victor'. That's when I knew that I love you too."

I lean up and kiss him lightly. I didn't know it was possible to feel this depth of happiness, but with Benji, I have no doubt that we're only scratching the surface. I can't say life is perfect, but I'm pretty sure this is as close to perfection as it's possible to get right now.