“Liam?” Caleb calls me nearly half an hour later. I’m done with physics and I was revising for an English quiz coming up.

“Hmm?” I vaguely answer, still a bit lost in Hemingway’s words.

“You did understand I meant you, right?”

His sentence completely pulled me out of literature. I turn around and he is lying on his back, looking at the ceiling. He gently turns to his side so he is facing me again.

I panic for a second. What do I need to do? Do I kill the conversation a second time? Do I let him share what he clearly wants to share? Which option will make him feel the best in the morning?

“I did.”

“But you don’t want to talk about it.” His eyes have never seemed so big, looking at me, oddly full of fear and hope.

“I really do. But maybe now isn’t the best time.”

“I’m not that drunk. I feel a bit funny, but that might be because there was a bit crowded down there.”

“It can wait until morning.”

“I might not be this brave in the morning.”

I roll my chair so I can be closer to the bed. I don’t want him to think that I am putting some distance between us. I lean forward a little, forearms resting on my knees, and my hands end up on the bed. Caleb slides his hand to rest it against mine. It’s nothing. And yet it’s the most intimate moment of my entire life. Much more than kissing Jake in the astronomy room.

I look away from our touching but not holding hands, straight into his eyes which are more hope than fear now.

“Caleb… you have no idea how much I want this, but… really, it shouldn’t be tonight.”

“Will you stay with me, though?”

“I will.”

“Is that a real promise or the kind I use when I try to get your brother in bed when he’s drunk?”

I giggle a little at that and I thread my fingers through his. Surely that’s allowed, right? “I’ll be right here.”

“Will you sleep with me? And I really mean sleep. Sleep sleep, not sex sleep. I don’t want to sleep with you. I mean, I do. I think about it sometimes, but not like this. Not so soon. Not when I’m a bit drunk.”

“Oh, so you finally admit that you are a bit drunk,” I reply, because if I didn’t make a joke, I would have to take a second to think about the fact that Caleb just told me that he has thought about having sex with me before. I am not offended or weirded out. Quite the opposite. But he’s right. Even in his slightly drunken state. It is too soon. To do, to discuss, to consider… I don’t even know if he will still want to hold my hand in the morning. No matter what is happening here, now, in this room, in the dark, Caleb isn’t out. And I know what can happen to offers made by closeted boys.

“But will you?”

“Well… this is my bed. So… what about I don’t sleep with you, but I sleep next to you?”

He smiles and he kind of looks younger like this, so visibly happy. “Good enough.”

I can tell that he is getting sleepy, and he is so adorable right now that I can’t hold my other hand back. It brushes a strand of hair away, and I let my palm rest on the line between his neck and his jaw, my thumb running on his cheek. This is the most tender I've been to anyone in as long as I can remember. "Is this okay?" I ask.

“Why wouldn’t t be?”

“You’re a bit drunk.”

“It’s always okay when you touch me.”

“I never touch you…”

“You do, sometimes.” He closes his eyes and leans against my hand. “In my dreams.”

This brutal honesty thing is incredible. I mean, sure, it is a bit overwhelming, but… it is also the most incredible feeling in the world. I feel seen and important. I also feel calm and safe. I’m not entirely sure why.

I slide my hand from his face to his hair and he whispers: “Keep doing that.” I smile, nod, and he closes his eyes. I think he is falling asleep.

I take a moment to think about this surreal turn of events. Earlier, when I was moaning about not being able to find someone at a party, I thought making-out session more than this. But this is so much better. This is perfect. Because this is not just about now. It makes me look back at the past and our interactions in a new way, and it gives me hope for the future.

I don’t know what Caleb will be like in the morning, but right now, he opened a window on a future I so desperately want to experience. I don't particularly believe in God, but the part of me that does is really tempted to start praying for Caleb to feel the same way tomorrow. For all of this not to be just drunken thoughts.

It is ridiculous to be wishing for a boy to like me, especially when I didn't realize I wanted him to even just an hour ago. But I swear this isn't just because he likes me. I am not that pathetic. I guess a more accurate way to see it would be that Caleb allowed me to look at him and want him, two things I forbade myself to do so far, and I didn't need much convincing.

Just as I think that this might be my cue to leave Caleb alone a moment, let him rest, and go back to the party for a while, see who is still there and what happened to Maisie, my bedroom door opens and Adam walks in. He stops, confused about what he just interrupted: Caleb’s eyes are closed, one of my hands is trapped in his, and the other one is in his hair.

Adam frowns and asks: “Does he know you’re doing that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Good. Um… Maisie was looking for you.”

“He’s busy,” Caleb mumbles in his slumber, and Adam’s eyebrows rise up in surprise.

“Yeah. I’m busy.”

“Cool. Then… yeah… I’ll tell her you’re asleep or something. So she doesn’t come looking.”

“Thanks.”

Adam leaves and I stand up too. Caleb’s hand wraps around my wrist. I look down and his eyes are sleepy but open. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get some clothes from Adam’s room for you to sleep in. That doesn’t look very comfortable and I don’t think I have anything your size.”

He lets go of my wrist. “You’re sweet. But you shouldn’t worry about me.”

Something tells me that I’m going to worry about him a lot more from now on.

Caleb and I are lying side by side. There is no touching, we are not sharing the same blanket, this is all very proper. Nothing to regret in the morning. It is nice to have him here, even if tomorrow is a bit of a mystery, even if it’s just to sleep, even if it’s really hard to keep it nice and proper when Caleb turns around, slides just a little closer, and whispers: “I really want to kiss you.”

My entire skin covers in goosebumps. It would be so easy to lean in and just let him kiss me. I wouldn’t technically be doing anything wrong. But I don’t want Caleb to regret anything about tonight. I also don’t want our first kiss to be a hazy memory for him. So I do the right thing, and reply: “Maybe in the morning?”

“No. Not in the morning.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m not kissing you before I get a chance to brush my teeth.”

This might be the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.

We don’t kiss that night. We don’t share a blanket. We don’t cuddle. But we fall asleep holding hands.

I am woken up by noises in my room. I open my eyes and Caleb is there, sitting at my desk, fully dressed, putting his shoes back on.

“Hey,” I say, hoping that I wasn’t snoring, drooling, or anything.

“Hey. I was actually wondering if I should wake you up or not.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Sort of,” he answers, and that is the most heartbreaking thing ever. So this is it. Caleb changed his mind. Maybe he’s not ready. Maybe I’m not interested enough. Maybe he realized that I’m his team captain’s brother. Or maybe he never really wanted this in the first place. “I was just going to help your brother clean up. Liam… about yesterday…”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say. No need to drag this out.

He frowns. “I… I think we need to,” Caleb replies and part of me is a bit surprised that he would push to talk. Not just because he is shy. I did just offer him a golden opportunity to leave. “I need to make sure that I didn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. I… I actually didn’t drink that much, so everything is still clear, but… I guess I still drank enough to become a handful. I’m sorry about that.”

“You were not a handful. Well… maybe a little, but I quite enjoyed that, actually.” I threw that out there, being half brave, because what he just said and the way he looks at me make me hope that, maybe, he does not regret what happened. And I don’t want miscommunication to be the reason we don’t get to explore this.

His cheeks pinken a little and he says: “So… no boundary pushed, no line crossed?”

“None.”

“So… you were being a gentleman because I was drunk and not because it was a nice way to say no?”

He seems so vulnerable right now that it feels necessary to make things right. Tell him that he can relax. There is no part of me that doesn’t want him. “Who would say no to you?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes it takes just one person.” There is so much truth behind that sentence.

“I’m not that person,” I promise him. His smile melts my heart a little bit.

He comes closer and puts his lips on mine. It’s butterfly soft. Not even a kiss, really. But it’s enough to start a storm of feelings in my chest. I lean in for more, but he pulls back.

“I told you. I don’t want your memory of our first kiss to be stained by alcohol breath. I just… couldn’t resist getting something. Plus I told Adam I would help and I don’t want to let him clean up alone.”

“Then what about you go clean up the party mess with him, I make some breakfast for us three, and I scavenge the house for a spare toothbrush? Then we could… hang out a bit.” And I don’t just mean kissing. I also mean getting to know him as more than my brother’s best friend. But I also do mean kissing.

I can see on his face that he does want that too.

Today is going to be a great day. It might even reconcile me with parties.