Colton grimaces. “It was mine, wasn’t it? What happened atdinner—”
“What?” I cut in. “Colt, that wasn’t your fault.”
“But if y’all wouldn’t have fought, you wouldn’t have left like that, and—”
“And I might’ve gotten in a car crash anyway,” I point out. “Why is everyone trying to take credit for me driving off the road?”
My mom winces, and I send her a one-handed apology.
“Even so, Iamsorry,” Colton says. “I didn’t realize you and Oakley were a thing. You never said anything.”
Remi looks at Colton, incredulous. “You didn’t see how close they’ve been?”
“They were always close,” Colton defends hotly.
“He’s right,” I put in before my brothers can start bickering. “I didn’t say anything about it to anyone.”
“And why is that, dear?” my mom asks, her voice and movements soft.
I puff out a breath. “Because it was mine,” I explain to them. All of them. “And I was still figuring it out.Amstill figuring it out. I know y’all mean well where it concerns my happiness. You always do. But sometimes a person needs the space to learn on their own. We’re always learning about ourselves. I don’t think that ever stops. What I need right now is for y’all to listen whenI’mready to talk about what’s going on in my life. Not to tell me things I haven’t figured out for my own yet.”
A beat passes before Jackson mutters, “Well, shit.”
Remi’s hands move swiftly.‘Sorry, Law, if we haven’t been giving you the space you need.’
“Y’all care,” I answer with a shrug. “I can see that.”
Colton nods slowly. My mom’s eyes look a little wet.
My attention moves to my dad when he sits forward in his seat. “Is there anything you want to tell us now?”
My gaze skips around the room, everybody waiting patiently. “I’ll be staying here for a while. Oakley isn’t just my friend anymore. And I’m gay.”
Another brief silence falls.
“Well,” my mom says, a tiny smile on her face. “I think I speak for everyone when I say I hope you find what it is you’re looking for.”
I give her a nod. But I think I already have.
It’s late when my family leaves. Hugs are passed around, my mother whispering a quietI love youbefore she’s out the door. Once every vehicle has disappeared down the short drive, I help Oakley clean up the rest of our mess, putting the last of the apple pie Ash brought over in the fridge.
“Little bit left,” Oakley says of the beef stew. He sets a small container of it on the countertop. “All yours tomorrow.”
I give him an appreciative smile. “It’s my favorite, you know.”
“Oh, I know. You and Wendy both. You’re two peas in a beef stew pod.”
“That makes absolutely no sense, Oak.”
He huffs. “I take it back. That stew is mine. I’m eating it for breakfast.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Maybe not,” he agrees. “But—”
A sound has both of us looking over. The container Oakley set on the counter is now tipped on its side, stew covering Bell’s nose as she uses her long pink tongue to scoop as much of the leftover meal into her mouth as she can before sprinting hurriedly from the kitchen. The container, following Bell’s momentum, falls to the floor, bits of the leftover stew splattering in an impressive arc as Oakley and I stare on.
“Oak…” I say slowly.
