Noah had been handsome when they were teenagers.Reallyhandsome. The kind of handsome that meant he had one girlfriend or another basically all through high school. All that had only been a preview, though. All the pieces of his face didn’t quite fit together when they were teenagers.
Now they did.
Noah wasn’t just handsome, he wasbeautiful. Striking, and fit, with that wide smile and those warm, shining eyes, and that deep voice that made Ramin’s knees go wobbly. Ramin thought he’d left crushing on straight guys behind, along with acne (thanks, salicylic acid!) and wet dreams (thanks, right hand!). Speaking of wet dreams, Ramin still remembered that really vivid one he’d had, the one with Noah in it, the one burned into his mind…
God, Ramin didnotmiss being a teenager.
Not only had Noah been handsome, but he’d also been a good friend. Not good as in close—Arya and Farzan had been Ramin’s only close friends—but good as inkind. Noah Bartlett had every reason to treat Ramin like shit, just like all the other straight white jocks at Northland High, but he never had.
It was no surprise he’d grown into an even kinder man.
God. Noah Bartlett.Here.
Here with a son. An adorable son, who had Noah’s eyes, Noah’s friendly spirit, Noah’s kindness. Because Jake hadn’t pulled away when Ramin said hello; he’d gone in for a fist bump.
And Jake’s mother, too. Not Noah’s wife, but Jake’s mother. No ring that Ramin had noticed, either. What did it all mean? Were they married but didn’t use rings? Together but not married? Just friendly co-parents? Were they divorced? Did divorced couples take family vacations together?
For a second Ramin imagined traveling with Todd post-breakup. A small, pathetic part of him kind of wished Toddwashere. Someone to share the adventure with.
But he was Interesting New Ramin. He didn’t need anyone to share adventures with. Life was his adventure!
That didn’t stop the hollow ache in his chest, though. His grand Italian adventure was supposed to be a honeymoon. A romantic tour of Rome. Or maybe a stay on the Amalfi Coast. Todd loved the beach.
Ramin loved the sea itself, if not the beach. The endless crash of waves, water stretching to the horizon, clouds marching by. He would’ve been content to sit on a hotel balcony, sipping a glass of wine, taking in all that blue. But Todd would’ve wanted to be in the sand, shirtless to show off all the time he’d been putting in at the gym, short shorts (or a Speedo) to let everyone know he was gay, drinking in the attention even though he wasn’t available.
Ramin shook his head as he fought with the front gate to hisapartment building. Had Todd always been that way, and Ramin just hadn’t noticed? Or had Todd changed as he felt the footsteps of his forties marching steadily closer? Ramin had never minded getting older. Another year of life meant another year of honoring his parents. Doing things they never got to do. Honoring his queer elders, too, the ones who fought for him and the ones who hadn’t survived the fight.
He was living for the hopes and dreams of so many people.
Including his own. So fuck Todd.
And fuck himself, because seven flights of stairs was more than he’d realized, and his glutes were burning.
Once Ramin was certain he wasn’t going to have a heart attack, he put his new clothes in the washer, made himself a cup of tea—in the apartment’s smallest saucepan, since apparently neither Francesca nor Paola saw the need for a kettle—and pulled out his phone. Kansas City was seven hours behind, so it was just past eight in the morning there. His friends wereprobablyawake by now.
Even if they weren’t, they were used to Ramin texting early. He was the only morning person among them.
He opened the group chat.
Ramin
Made it to Milano!
But my bags went to Amsterdam.
Arya
Your bags are getting 420
Farzan
Duck!!
Fuck*
Glad you made it safely!!
David
