How does one come back from kissing your best friend? Is Joss his best friend? Eli hopes to high heaven that Joss is still his best friend, after everything. But where does that leave the Leóns? Out with the trash, like he’s been treating them recently? Eli just wants everything to stop. He wants to pause his life, figure out where he fucked up, and rewind until he can fix it again. He didn’t think that anything could be worse than the feelings he had when he had overheard Joss, but this is worse. Burning, rushing shame, filling him up. He feels like he needs to bend down and apologize at Joss’s feet for mis-reading him and making everything go wrong.

For a week, all Eli can do is hang his head whenever Joss looks at him in class. It’s all he can do to apologize without actually talking to him.

He probably finds my presence offensive, Eli thinks. I’m not avoiding him. I’m just giving him space. Jesus Christ, why did I do that? I’m such an asshole.

On Monday, Joss finds him in English (it’s not like he can hide) and gives him a stern look.

“Stop beating yourself up. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re coming over on Tuesday like normal and we’re going to talk, you pretty gangster.”

For the first time, Eli hears his nickname in a different way. He blushes beet red, and Joss shoves his face away, none too gently.

“Don’t give me that face. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, then?” Eli shoots back, before he can stop himself.

Joss pauses, turns. “You want the choice? Then choose. You want to come over?”

“Fine. Yes. I want to come over. Are you happy now?” Eli’s getting annoyed, or maybe just conflicted about… everything.

“Not especially. But not because of you.”

Joss walks away, like he’s done a thousand times since Eli met him. It’s strange how familiar it is now, comforting, even, the view of his back no longer a bad view.

He’ll go over on Tuesday. They’ll talk. Eli knows it like he knows his name.