of story left, Dre, but you’re quickly becoming one of my favorite books.”
“So this is what having a stroke feels like?”
Dean laughed with confusion. “What?”
I probably should’ve taken a second to gather my thoughts and put them into some kind of order so that I didn’t come off sounding like, well, like me, but time was the one thing we didn’t have a lot of.
“Are you saying you like me?” I asked. “As in you like me like you liked Neville Longbottom? If you do, I need to hear you say it, because I have this impossible crush on you that I’d resigned myself to you never returning and I need to make sure I understand that what you’re saying is what I think you’re saying so I don’t do something foolish like tell you how I feel.”
Dean smiled. He smiled. Not a pity smile or a timid “I don’t know what else to do” smile, but a big, toothy, confident smile. And if I’d been living in a tragedy, this would’ve been the moment a random meteor fell out of the sky and smashed into my head and killed me. But my life wasn’t a tragedy. Possibly a comedy, but still beautiful. Just like Dean’s smile.
“I don’t know,” he said. I couldn’t control the disappointment that hit my face, and he immediately added, “I think, yes, I’m attracted to you, but this is so different from any crush I’ve ever had.”
“Because I’m a real person and not a character in a book?”
“That, and because no connection I’ve had has ever felt this strong. Or this confusing. We wind up fighting as often as anything else, and—”
“I’m frustrating?”
“So frustrating!” Dean said. “But I like that. I like that you challenge me. I like that you make me think about who I am and who I want to be.”
“I’m sorry for all the assumptions I made about you.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Dean said.
I walked toward Dean and stood beside him at the tree. “For the record, I’m not confused.” I brushed my hand with his and linked our pinkie fingers together.
Dean’s hand stiffened as he looked around and only relaxed when he was sure no one was watching us. “We’ve made this complicated.”
“Probably.”
“What do we do about our parents?” he asked. “I’m still going to be working on my mother’s campaign and supporting her and hoping she wins.”
At that moment, I didn’t care. It was a problem for a day less perfect than this. “We’re not our parents,” I said. “We’re not their surrogates. Let’s just agree not to talk about that shit, okay? We can talk about our parents, but as the adults who annoy us and ground us, and not as presidential candidates.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“I think we can try.”
Dean’s finger tightened around mine. “I can’t come out.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m serious, Dre.” Dean paused like he was giving me an opening to butt in, but I didn’t have anything to say. “I have a lot to consider—you’ve given me a lot to think about. At some point, I am going to have to tell my mother, but not until after the election. I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t want to be the reason she loses.”
“I can live with that.”
“Are you sure?” Dean asked. “I would understand if you couldn’t.”
“Look, I’m not about forcing you or anyone to come out until they’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
I couldn’t believe I was standing there with Dean, holding his hand, talking about us. There was an us! I’d almost ditched him when he’d taken off on me earlier, and I would have missed this if I had! It was so much to wrap my brain around.
“So,” I said. “You and me?”
“Seems that way.”
“What about the distance?”
Dean shrugged. “We worked this out.”
“And no matter who wins the election, we’re gonna end up living in different states.”
“We’re both graduating at the end of the year, so that would have been an obstacle regardless.”
This was happening. This was really happening! I pulled away from the tree so that I was standing in front of him. I needed to look Dean in the eye again to make sure that this was really real. Dean linked the rest of his fingers through mine, and pulled me a little closer, and then my phone buzzed.
Cock-blocked by my own damn phone. I got it out of my pocket and swore.
“What?”
“Train.”
Dean looked at his watch and his eyes went wide. “Dre! We’re going to be late!”
“We’ve got time.”