I walked into Donovan’s workplace, feeling the slight nervous energy in my chest. I had the basket of snacks tightly in my hands, almost protective of it. I’d put it together that morning,  mochi and Oreos, his favorites,  arranged in a small woven basket I found at the center. I wrapped it with some tissue paper and clear wrap I borrowed from the art room. It wasn’t anything fancy, but I was proud of it. Thoughtful but not over the top.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I spotted Aaron at the front desk. "Hey, Aaron," I said with a friendly smile.

He looked up and returned the smile. "Thanks, man," he said, always polite. We’d worked together closely enough that I felt a little more comfortable with him, but my focus quickly shifted as I heard footsteps.

I saw her, Peters. She noticed me right away and started walking over, and I couldn’t help but back up instinctively. We didn’t exactly have the best history. She greeted me, and I tried to keep it casual, but it was clear I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. "Hey, Jeremy. How’s everything going?" she asked.

I nodded quickly, not wanting to get caught up in anything. "I’m good, thanks. I should get going," I said, excusing myself before she could say anything more.

Finally, I made my way to Donovan’s office. I pushed the door open slightly, my nerves still there, but the sight of Donovan made it all feel a little less heavy.

When I stepped into his office, I put out my hand automatically. It was meant to be a handshake, just a quick, polite greeting but what I really wanted was to hold his hand. So I did.

He gave me a look. One of those long, searching ones that made me think I hadn’t imagined everything between us. I held on for just a second too long. He didn’t pull away immediately, just kind of… softened.

“Hello, to you too,” he said with a blush. Slowly, like he wasn’t trying to let it show, he slid his hand out of mine and turned to the basket.

“You brought snacks?

I shrugged, suddenly self conscious. “Yeah. Nothing big. Just… thought you might like them.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled even wider. "You didn’t have to," he said, but I could see the appreciation in his eyes as he looked at the basket.

“Don’t just stand there! Have a seat. Would you like some coffee,” he asked while taking a sip of his.

“I would,” I replied in hopes that his coffee did not taste as bad as Asa’s.

As he made me the cup, I looked around his office, I could tell he had tried to make it his own. There were some decorations, but they didn’t scream Donovan.I couldn’t help but wonder if he was still suppressing parts of himself. I didn’t want to assume, though; I wasn’t in a position to judge. Still, the thought nagged at me a little, and I felt guilty even considering it. It was like I was accusing him of not being honest with himself.

My gaze drifted over to a picture on his desk, Donovan, Amari, and his parents. I recognized it right away, but I could also tell that Rory had added a picture of himself to the frame. It made sense. I could also tell that both Rory and Amari had been here recently, given the little notes they’d scribbled on his whiteboard. Donovan’s coffee mug sat on the edge of his desk, and I couldn’t help but smile a little,  just the tiny touches that made this space feel like his own.

It was a good feeling, but it also made me more aware of how much Donovan had changed. And maybe, in some ways, so had I.

He handed me the cup, our fingers slightly touching. I felt like I was sixteen again. Even after all these years, his touch electrified me.

I was pulled away from my thoughts by an excited squeal.

“You remembered I like these?” He took one of the mochi and devoured it. “I’m keeping you forever Jeremy,” he said with his mouth full.

I laughed, settling into the seat across from him. “You said that last night.”

“God, I’m so tired. I don’t know how you’re not a zombie.”

“I slept great,” I said. “Didn’t have anything else to do today. Just… this.”

He handed me a couple sheets, but I recognized most of what was written. “I already know some of this,” I said.

He nodded. “I met with Malik yesterday again.”

I leaned in. “How did it go?”

Donovan exhaled, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “Rough. The school’s already labeled him. He’s flagged as a risk, someone to watch.”

“Sounds like they gave up before trying.”

“Exactly,” Donovan said. “Malik’s angry. Like, the kind of angry that builds up over years of being dismissed, misunderstood, and left to deal with it alone. He’s mad at life, mad at the hand he was dealt, mad at people who don’t listen.”

I stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“He’s not just lashing out to lash out. There’s grief under it. Fear. But also love. Especially for his mom. He talks about her like… she’s the only person he trusts. And even then, he’s scared he’ll disappoint her. The second she came up, he started crying.”

My chest tightened. “He’s got a lot on his shoulders.”

“He does,” Donovan said. “He told me he’s trying to change, but he gets triggered easily. Doesn’t always know how to stop himself once he starts spiraling. It’s frustrating for him.”

He glanced at me again, more serious now. “I think you could be really good for him. You both love football. You’ve got a way with people, especially kids who don’t want to let anyone in. He needs someone who won’t judge him.”

I stared at the papers for a moment, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

“I get it,” I said quietly. “I know what that kind of anger feels like.”

Donovan looked up at me, curious but not interrupting.

“I used to lash out too,” I went on. “I didn’t care who I hurt, sometimes not even myself. I just... acted. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who stopped to think before making a move. Who slowed down enough to ask why I felt the way I did.” I glanced at Donovan. “I was Malik, once. Labeled. Flagged. Written off. And honestly? I still carry some of that.”

His face softened, and he stood up without a word. Came around the desk and pulled me into a hug. One that said he knew exactly what I meant even if I didn’t say it perfectly.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands still on my shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.”

I blinked. “Donovan,”

“You’ve become the person I always knew you could be,” he said. “Even when you couldn’t see it. Even when you didn’t want to.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. It hit somewhere deep. So instead of fumbling for words, I nodded and gave a shaky little laugh.

“Thanks,” I said. “Means more than I know how to explain.”

He smiled again, this one slower, more personal. “Just don’t let it go to your head.”

I rolled my eyes. “Too late.”

We both laughed, and for a second, the air between us shifted, lighter, but charged. Like we were standing on the edge of something bigger than either of us was ready to name.

“When can I meet him?”

“Next week Tuesday, if that works.”

“I’ll be there.”

He nodded, looking relieved. “I’m working on a schedule that won’t clash with your other stuff. Something regular and manageable. I think this could work. I think he could really respond to you.”

I nodded, eyes lingering on him a second too long. I didn’t say it, but I felt it: I’m proud of you. And maybe… I’m proud of us too.

🍃

We went over the plan again before wrapping up. I liked that Donovan wasn’t trying to push anything too fast. I think we both knew what it felt like to be rushed before we were ready.

“Alright,” he said. “Time for lunch.”

He started packing up the file and grabbing his keys. I reached for the basket I brought in earlier and pulled out a mochand placed it right on the corner of his desk.

“In case you feel like snacking when you come back,” I said.

He gave me this look, soft, almost surprised, and then turned off the lights and the AC. I followed him out.

When we stepped outside, Miss Peters was standing near the entrance, deep in conversation with Aaron.

He turned to Aaron. “Going for lunch.”

Aaron smiled. “No Problem.”

Donovan didn’t even acknowledge Peters..

But she? She looked between the two of us like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then, bold as hell, she straight up asked, “Are you two going for lunch together?”

I blinked at her, confused by the sheer audacity. I don’t know what she thought she saw.

Before I could even respond, Donovan didn’t break stride. He gave Aaron a little wave, smiled, and kept walking. Didn’t even toss her a glance.

I had no choice but to follow.

When we were a few steps away, I leaned toward him and asked, “What’s her deal?”

He shook his head and said flatly, “I don’t know what her problem is.

That was enough for me.

When we got to the parking lot, I offered casually, “You want me to drive you there? I found a vegan place not too far from here. Figured we could take one car.”

He glanced over at me, curious. “You found a vegan place?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool.

There was a small pause, but then he nodded. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

And I swear, I didn’t mean to grin like a fool, but I probably did anyway. I tried to tone it down by fumbling with my keys.

It was stupid how much it meant to me that he agreed. 

He climbed into the passenger seat, and I kept my hands at ten and two, even though I knew this car like the back of my hand. I just wanted to be... I don’t know. Presentable. Solid. The version of myself I was still trying to grow into.

“I still can’t believe you found a vegan place,” he said after a few minutes, glancing at me.

“I did some research,” I admitted. “Didn’t want to take you somewhere with nothing but dry lettuce and fries.”

He laughed softly. “Thanks. That’s thoughtful.”

I nodded once, keeping my eyes on the road but feeling a quiet sort of pride.

Truth is, I still eat meat like it’s my job. I love it way too much. But for today? For him? I could pretend. He’s worth pretending for, even if I was being a little dramatic about it. Maybe more than a little.

The place I found was small, with a kind of warm, mismatched vibe that I knew Donovan would like. A little chalkboard sign out front listed their specials in pastel chalk, and there were plants hanging from the ceiling in old mason jars. The kind of spot that made you feel like you were doing something good just by sitting down.

When we walked in, Donovan smiled like he couldn’t help it. I liked seeing that, something easy on his face for once.

“This is nice,” he said softly, taking in the space.

We sat down after ordering, him with a veggie bowl that looked way too healthy, and me with a plant based burger that I was trying not to resent.

Donovan picked at the lemon wedge on his plate. “Amari texted this morning. Said they’re trying to help Rory stay on top of things again.”

I let out a dry laugh. “They’re always trying. And Rory’s always falling off.”

He nodded, but it was quiet, and his shoulders curled in a little, like he was embarrassed to laugh.

“I don’t know how Amari does it,” I said. “They act all chill, but I know they’re tired. Rory’s got zero self-discipline. One day it’s them, next day it’s somebody else.”

Donovan frowned slightly, but not at me. “Yeah. I think it hurts more than they say.”

“It does. I see it.” I paused. “I hate that for them.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the dressing into his bowl, head ducked a little like he was thinking too hard about things he didn’t want to say out loud.

Then he looked up. Or, almost. His eyes met mine for a second, then dropped again like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t.

I had been staring. Way too obviously.

But how could I not?

He looked really good. His plaits were loose today, not tied back, just soft and falling around his face in a way that made my stomach do things I wasn’t ready to admit. That black polo was tucked just enough to look neat but casual, and the gold chain around his neck glinted in the light. His earrings matched.

Donovan looked like himself. But somehow more. Softer and sharper at the same time.

He caught me again, and this time he smiled, but it was shy. He ducked his head a little.

“What?” he asked, voice quiet.

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing. You just, uh, you look good. That’s all.”

His fingers twitched near his water glass. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t push. We just sat there for a second, both pretending to be way more into our food than we were.

But I couldn’t stop the little tug in my chest.

This? Just sitting here with him? It felt like something.

But maybe the start of something I didn’t want to lose again.

“I don’t have your number, by the way,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though my heart was sprinting. “I was going to message you on Instagram. Thanks for the follow back, but…” I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly hyper aware of how warm it was in here. “I want to be able to call you. Text you. If that’s okay.”

Donovan looked at me, eyes unreadable. 

“I know it’s soon,” I added quickly. “And I’m not trying to force anything. I can’t make us magically go back to how things were, but it was nice.”

“If we decide to go back… will we be going back to us before or after we kissed?” 

I froze. My face flushed so fast it was like someone flipped a switch. “Donova-” My voice cracked on his name, and I cleared my throat. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to."

He gave me a soft smile and cut me off again. “Bad joke."

He didn’t say anything for a beat. Then, without looking up, he held out his hand toward me.

“Give me your phone.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“I’ll add my number,” he said, still not quite meeting my eyes. “Before this gets more awkward.”

I handed it over, trying not to grin like a complete idiot. He typed quickly, then I heard the soft ding from his pocket.

“There,” he said, sliding my phone back across the table. “Now I can’t pretend I didn’t get your messages.”

I glanced at my screen. It's me. No messages after 7.

I laughed, a short breath of something that felt too much like relief. “No promises.”

I turned my phone over in my hand, the soft buzz of his message still warm in the back of my mind. He was sipping his drink, eyes focused on the street outside like he was watching the moment drift past in real time.

“I want to take back what I said earlier,” I said, voice low. “About going back.”

He looked over at me, eyebrows raised just slightly.

“I think this is going be a lot different than the old days,” I continued. “Because we’re two different people now.”

A pause. Then I smiled, just a little, just enough.

“I’m excited to see how this goes.”

And for the first time all day, he smiled back without looking away.