“Maybe that ghost is real after all.”
“I told you, Sebas. That spirit feeds off our energy.”
“Well, if that’s the case…” I whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand between my legs, letting him feel the sticky mess he made, “then it had a feast tonight.”
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
The October air bites at my cheeks as I stack another pumpkin onto the wooden display. My breath comes out in small puffs of white. The smell of cinnamon donuts and apple cider drifts over from the food trucks lined up at the edge of the field.
“Those go with the medium size,” Josh calls from behind me. He’s arranging hay bales into neat rows for people to sit on. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and he’s wearing that thick flannel I bought him last month. The red-brown one that brings out his eyes.
I move the pumpkins to the right section and step back, admiring our handiwork.
It’s been exactly one year since Josh and I met here, at this patch, and the memory makes me smile. Back then, I couldn’t stand him. Couldn’t stand how perfect he looked, how confident and popular he was. Now I get why. He forced me to face something I wasn’t ready to admit. That I was into him. That I was gay. What I thought was jealousy was just pent-up sexual tension and the confusion that came with it.
If it weren’t for that party, who knows how long it would’ve taken me to get here?
The thought gives me chills.
So much has happened since then.
After the party, Josh and I couldn’t get enough of each other. Literally. We skipped a whole week of classes to stay holed up in his dorm room, eating, fucking, talking, sleeping, and fucking some more. When we finally did go back, everyone knew about us.
We started going on dates, and soon enough, he was the best part of my days. He took me to all his favorite places, introduced me to his friends, and showed me how great life gets when you stop fighting who you are. He came to my theater performances, sitting front row with that proud, stupid grin that made my heart race every time the curtain rose.
His tight football schedule means we don’t hang out as much as we’d like, but I’m at every home game, cheering from the bleachers.
And man, the sex after those games. When he wins, his ego’s through the roof, and he can go for literal hours. When he loses, he takes all his frustration out on me in the best way possible. Either way, I benefit.
Sometimes I still wonder how the fuck I got so lucky.
“Sebas! Josh!”
I look up and see Ana walking toward us through the scattered leaves, her arm looped through Marcus’s. They’ve been together for about four months now. Who would’ve guessed she’d end up with one of Josh’s teammates? A big, beefy lineman.
“Ana! There you are,” I call out. “Marcus, hey.”
“Finally decided to show up, huh?” Josh teases, giving Marcus a fist bump. “We’re almost done.”
“Sorry, we... uh, had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. Right, babe?”
Marcus clears his throat pointedly, and Ana bursts out laughing.
“Mmhmm. I bet you did,” Josh snickers.
She gives him a playful smack on the shoulder. “Don’t act like you two are any better. We all know why you skipped class last Thursday. Don’t try the whole ‘busy studying’ excuse. Unless you mean studying Sebas from behind.”
“Jesus, Ana,” I groan, feeling my face flush.
Josh flashes her a smile and says, deadpan, “Well, she’s not wrong.”
Marcus cracks up, and he and Josh exchange another one of those bro-fists. That’s still something I haven’t gotten used to, these little rituals between jocks. But now I can admit that I find it hot.
Ana grabs a pumpkin from the pile and starts arranging them into neat, symmetrical rows, while Marcus and Josh hang up banners and flags on the nearby posts.
This year, we all agreed to help Josh with his annual pumpkin stand. It felt like a good excuse to spend time together, a bit like a double date, and the weather couldn’t be more perfect. A crisp, bright October day.
