I ended up landing the job at the coffee shop.

It felt surreal. Like something good had finally picked me, instead of just brushing past like everything else. For the first time in what felt like forever, I actually started looking forward to something. Not just dreading less, actually wanting it.

I think my parents were kind of weirded out by the sudden enthusiasm. They didn’t say anything, but I caught them exchanging one of those is-he-okay? glances. They probably thought I was possessed or something.

I’ve been working at the coffee shop for like a month now. The job itself was rough at first. I fumbled through tasks, tripped over instructions, forgot how to work the register at least twice a day. But Chris was patient. Stupidly patient. He walked me through everything, never once raising his voice or sighing like I was hopeless, even when I very much was. When I messed up, he’d just smirk and say something like, “We’ll fix it,” like I hadn’t just exploded a cappuccino machine.

Somehow, while I was adjusting to the job, my grades started climbing too. Chris helped me study during our breaks, especially with math. I joked that if he replaced Ms. Riley, I’d be an A+ student in no time.

Probably not true, though. I still wouldn’t be able to pay attention. But for different reasons. Reasons that involved blond hair and soft voices and... yeah.

Anyway.

Life started making sense again. Like I was piecing together a puzzle I didn’t even know I had dropped.

One afternoon, I was out back behind the shop, smoking, when Chris showed up for our shift.

“Hey, Troy. You’re early today,” he said with that smug little smile of his. “That’s new.”

“Shut up, dude. I’m always on time,” I muttered, exhaling smoke away from him. I tried to be polite about it, at least.

“You want one?” I asked, holding out the pack.

He rolled his eyes. “Jesus. How many times do I have to tell you no? That’s gross.”

“It’d be better for you if you stopped, you know,” he added, nudging the conversation like it was just a casual observation.

“Or maybe you can’t stop. Is that it?”

He smirked, that teasing glint in his eye. Like he knew exactly where this was going.

“I see what you’re trying to do,” I told him, “and it’s not working.”

“If you quit, I’ll stop bothering you about it. Ever think about that?”

“Actually? I have. And it’s fucking tempting, let me tell you.”

And then I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, not judging, just... there. Solid. Maybe I wanted to see if I could be that solid, too.

“You know what?” I said, holding up the cigarette. “This’ll be my last one.”

He blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“Like—ever?”

“I’ll try, at least.”

He looked at me, I mean, really looked, and then smiled. This wide, bright, impossible smile that made my chest twist in some painful, ridiculous way.

“I know you can do it,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Then he slipped through the back door and left me standing there in the cool air, cigarette still in hand, staring at it like it had betrayed me. The smoke curled up lazily, like it didn’t care what promises I’d just made.

 

***

 

Later that day, the shop was slow. My favorite kind of shift. The hum of the machines, the low indie playlist in the background, the smell of baked goods that clung to your clothes.

We were leaning on the counter, Chris and I, sharing earphones, going through a playlist I’d made for him.

We stood shoulder to shoulder.

And every time that happens, it amazes me.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away like I was something dirty, contagious. Sometimes his arm would be tense at first, but after a while, he’d relax. Like he trusted me. Like it was okay.

Which was great. Really. Fantastic news for my slowly unraveling sanity.

Until it wasn’t.

...Fuck. I might actually be crushing on him.

Just a little. A tiny, hormonal, no-big-deal kind of crush. It’s probably just biology. My body begging to get laid.

Didn’t mean anything. I mean, I used to have a thing for Jamie, too, when we were younger. That faded. This will too.

Except sometimes, when Chris stretches and his shirt lifts just a bit, I can’t help but stare at his sharp hip bones peeking out. The way his jeans don’t sit quite right, hanging a little too low. And that makes me wanna...

It makes me wanna nothing. Because he’s my best friend. And I’m being a weirdo.

I’m not going to act on it. Obviously.

I probably just needed to hook up with someone else. Get it out of my system. That would fix it. Right?

...Except I didn’t want to. And I had no idea why.

The bell above the door rang, snapping us out of our moment. We both jumped.

“Hey, guys!” Jamie’s voice rang out as he strolled in, unbothered and loud as always.

“Be quiet!” Chris hissed.

“But no one’s here,” Jamie shrugged.

“Hey, Jamie,” I said, pointing at the sidewalk. “Please tell me those assholes are staying outside.”

Benson and Ryan were loitering just beyond the door, all smug faces and too-loud laughs.

“No animals allowed,” I added, gesturing at the sign.

“Don’t worry. I tied them to the post,” Jamie grinned, proud of his own dumb joke. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop a chuckle.

He flopped across the counter like he was boneless. “Chris, can you make me three coffees to go, please?”

“Troy works here too, you know?”

“Yeah... but your coffee’s better. Pretty please?” Jamie said with an exaggerated smile.

Chris looked at me, defeated.

“Sorry, Chris. He’s got a point,” I said with a shrug.

Chris groaned and turned to the espresso machine.

“How wasted are you?” I asked Jamie.

“I’d say... nine and three-quarters,” he said, cracking himself up.

I laughed too. It was hard not to. It was contagious.

Chris, on the other hand, shot us both a glare. “Troy, can you take these to the door?” he asked, handing me the coffees. “Otherwise, he’s gonna spill them and we’ll have to clean it.”

Jamie leaned in. “Hey, Troy? Wanna get out of here? I think there’s something I can help you with...”

I leaned back, arms crossed. “Yeah? With what?”

He stuck out his tongue, his metal piercing glistening under the warm light. And then he winked.

Damn.

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Chris muttered, just loud enough.

Jamie turned to him. “You know, Chris? If you weren’t so uptight, maybe you’d actually get some.”

“Fuck you, Jamie.”

He must’ve been really pissed. He rarely swore. The shift in his tone actually kind of spooked me, not gonna lie.

Jamie grabbed Chris’s wrist mid-wipe. “I could make those pretty eyes of yours roll all the way back, if you want. Just say the word.”

“Hey!” I barked, stepping between them. I yanked Jamie’s hand off Chris.

“You’re crossing the line, Hudson. Let’s go.”

“What? I was just teasing,” Jamie said, tossing a fifty onto the counter.

“Hey, idiot, this is fifty bucks,” Chris said, startled. “I need to give you change.”

“Keep it. Bye, Chris!” Jamie called as I shoved him out the door.

Once he was gone, I locked up. Relief washed over me like cool water.

Chris tossed his apron onto the counter and collapsed onto one of the benches. I joined him, and we sat back to back—legs stretched, spines curved, leaning into each other.

“What the hell, Troy? How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Hang out with Jamie.”

“Oh. That. Yeah... he’s a lot. But he can be sweet, too.”

“He’s a freaking jerk.”

“Only when he’s drunk like that... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have encouraged him.”

“You okay though?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Just... what’s his deal? I saw him flirting with a girl last week.”

“He’s bi. Or pan. Or whatever. Says he’s not picky.”

God knows what’s going on in Jamie’s head. Sometimes I think even he doesn’t know.

Chris turned a little. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you... Like him?”

“God, no,” I said, too quickly. “I used to have a crush on him. Back when we were younger. But honestly, who didn’t?”

“Just because he’s hot? He’s kinda shallow. And loud.”

Wait a second, I thought. Did he just say Jamie’s hot?

He didn’t say good-looking, he didn’t say a jock. He said hot.

So if he acknowledged that Jamie’s hot, then maybe he likes guys?

Or did he say it because it’s a fact and he has eyes?

“He doesn’t do relationships anyway. Wouldn’t be worth the time.”

“And you do? Relationships, I mean?”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I admitted. “But I’d like to. I see my sister and her boyfriend, and... yeah. I’m jealous. It looks amazing. To share stuff with someone like that.”

The sadness hit unexpectedly. This hollow, aching space in my chest.

Because the closest I’d ever come to something like that was a couple of empty hookups that meant nothing.

“Sounds... sweet,” Chris said. “You could’ve dated someone from school, right?”

“Not really. Maybe this sounds lame, but I feel like an alien sometimes. Too gay to be straight, too straight to be gay. Just... wrong, somehow.”

The thing is, I’m not the token gay best friend, and I’m not one of the guys either. I’m just... floating.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. You’re friends with some guys, though.”

“Well, yeah. But I’ve known them for a while now, so we’re past the awkward phase. Still, it’s difficult sometimes.”

“If it helps, you look pretty gay to me,” he said.

“Oh yeah, smartass? How so?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. It’s like... the hands or something.”

“Pffft. Liar.”

But I smiled. Because the fact that he could joke like that—comfortably—meant more than I could say.

“What about you?” I asked. “Ever had a... girlfriend?”

“Ninth grade. For two weeks. Does that count?”

My heart fell to the floor. Of course. He had to be straight...

“What happened?”

“She was nice. Pretty. I really liked her. But it felt... wrong.”

He looked down at his sleeve. “I’ve never told anyone this. Just my cousin.”

He took a breath. “Last year, I ended up in a game of Truth or Dare.”

“You? Christopher Higgs? Playing Truth or Dare?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I had a life before I moved here.”

“Can’t picture it.”

“Anyway... someone dared me to kiss another guy.”

My pulse quickened.

“I figured it’s just a game, right? Doesn’t mean anything. I’d always found him kinda cute, but not in the way you find a girl pretty. You know?”

“Oh, I know.”

“But when it happened...” His voice dropped. “I liked it. A lot. And not just in a funny or shocking way. It felt... different. Right.”

Something inside me lit up. Fireworks. Rainbow flags. The whole damn parade.

“Part of the club, then?” I asked, half-joking.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I don’t know what that makes me exactly. Still figuring it out. But I know what I felt. And I’ve felt it again since. I think I’m definitely into guys.”

I smiled at the way he said it. Like he wasn’t sure, but also completely certain.

In my head, all I heard was: I’m definitely into guys.

And maybe, just maybe, I was allowed to hope.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

“I can’t believe I said that out loud. It’s scary. But also... it feels good. Lighter. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, because I thought you’d get it more than anyone, but... I don’t know.”

“Were you afraid I’d say: ‘Dude, you like guys? Ew, gross. And gay.’”

He laughed.

“When you say it like that... And do your parents know?”

“My sister does. She was the first.”

“How’d she take it?”

“She said she already knew. Probably because I used to beg to be Barbie so I could marry Ken, and it pissed her off.”

Chris laughed out loud.

“She was happy she could finally gossip about boy crushes with me. Priorities, am I right?”

“What about your parents?” he asked.

“It’s... complicated. Things are rocky. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

“I get that.”

We sat in silence for a while. Leaning. Breathing. Just existing together.

Eventually, I nudged his arm.

“Let’s clean up and head home?”

He nodded. “After that insane customer? Definitely.”

And for once, I didn’t feel like I was pretending to belong.

I just... did.