They’re both right in their own ways, but that doesn’t make this any easier. “Relationships change in college,” Jacob says, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “In a few short months, that’s where we’re headed. What if adding someone else to this relationship at the same time we all move to CSU fucks it up?”
“What if it makes it better?” Ford counters, his eyes locked on Jacob’s, challenging him.
“Jacob, why don’t you trust me?” I ask, my voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.
His eyes widen in surprise, and he shakes his head. “I do. Why would you think I don’t?”
“Because I’m telling you, there’s room for you, Ford, and Matthew. But all you can focus on is that you might get pushed out. So, you’re calling me a liar?” My voice cracks, and I hate the way it sounds, but I can’t stop the hurt from pouring out.
“That’s not—” he starts, but I cut him off, needing him to understand.
“Not verbatim, but it’s what you’re insinuating. There might not be room for the three of you, but you wouldn’t be the one to leave. What we have is strong. This thing with Matthew might not work out. He might turn out to be a prick. That’s on him, not you. What we have will stay the same.”
The words spill out of me in a rush, raw and unfiltered. I don’t know if they’ll make a difference, but I can’t hold them in any longer. The thought of losing Jacob—of losing what we have—terrifies me, but denying this part of myself, of pretending that my feelings for Matthew don’t exist, is just as terrifying.
Jacob sucks in a breath, blowing it out slowly, like he’s trying to calm the storm raging inside him. “I’ll try,” he finally says, his voice shaky but determined. “But we take things slow. No orgies or sex with him and us. We can hang out and stuff, but that’s it at first. What you two do together alone is up to you. But we keep everything out in the open.”
“No secrets,” I agree, my voice barely a whisper.
“No secrets,” he repeats, like a vow.
“I love you, Jacob,” I say, my heart in my throat. “I always have, and I always will.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Pickle,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against mine. “I just can’t stand the thought of losing you again.”
“I know,” I whisper back.
For a moment, we just stand there, holding on to each other like we’re the only things keeping each other afloat. I know this isn’t the end of the conversation—there’s still so much we need to figure out, so much that needs to be said. But for now, for this moment, I just need to be here with him, to feel his arms around me, to remember why we’re fighting so hard to make this work.
Because I love him and Ford. And maybe—just maybe—there’s a way to make room for Matthew too.
Chapter 13
Dylan
The cheers are a low hum in my ears as I saunter across the stage, the cap-and-gown crowd before me a sea of blurred faces. The dean gives me my diploma, accompanied by a polite but obligatory smile, and we stop briefly to take the necessary photo. The camera flashes, capturing my smirk forever, and I turn, scanning the audience.
Then I see him.
Matthew is sitting a few rows back, half-hidden behind some of the parents, who are still clapping. His expression is unreadable, but the tension in my chest tightens the moment our eyes lock. We haven’t really spoken since that night with Jacob and Ford. It’s been the same for my two guys—thanks to my grounding.
My mom’s been up my ass ever since she found out that I’m playing lacrosse. Ford and Jacob have been… well, they’ve been themselves. Ford, especially—he’s found some very creative ways and places to mess around at school. The science labduring the assembly? Totally worth it, but I thought Jacob was going to kill him when he walked in on us.
Ford just laughed it off, of course. Jacob… not so much. But that’s Ford—never one to take anything too seriously, even when he should.
My stomach twists as I break eye contact and head down the steps, back to my seat, heart still pounding from the rush of being in the spotlight. The rest of the ceremony drags on, each name called out seeming to stretch time. Finally, when they call Ford and Jacob’s names, I cheer loudly, my voice echoing in the crowd. They grin at me from the stage, and for a moment, everything feels right.
When it’s finally time to throw our caps in the air, signaling the end of the ceremony, a wave of freedom washes over us. The thrill of being done with high school hits me hard, but it’s bittersweet, too.
I collect my cap and head out into the sea of bodies, everyone eager to find their families and take those all-important graduation pictures. My heart’s still racing from the brief glimpse of Matthew.
“Dylan! Over here!”
My mom’s voice cuts through the crowd, and I push my way over to where she’s standing with Gideon. Her smile is wide and proud, but there’s something in her eyes that makes my stomach sink. She’s been hinting at things from the past lately, throwing little barbs my way that don’t quite make sense but still manage to hurt. I don’t have the energy to deal with her right now.
We take the obligatory family pictures, and I try to put on a good face for the camera. I smile and pose, but it feels like I’m going through the motions. Gideon’s arm is around my shoulders, and he pulls me into a tight hug, whispering, “I’m so proud of you, Dylan.” His warmth is comforting, a stark contrast to Mom’s more critical gaze.
Then, as if on cue, she steps aside, saying something about congratulating a friend on their daughter’s graduation. She’s gone before I can ask who, dragging Gideon with her and I’m left standing there with my diploma in one hand and a strange emptiness in my chest.
