“That’s… normal.”I was mildly terrified at all times, concerning Diego.All relationships, especially romantic ones, felt like walking a knife’s edge between fear and excitement.But this one was jacked all the way up to eleven.Felt like it always had been, with him.
“Exactly.I mean, normal for normal people.People not me.But I mean it, and I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said sincerely.Hadn’t expected that, but in retrospect it made sense.“I told him I’d never fault you for loving him.”
“Heh.Yeah.But I could love him in a way that’s less aggressive toward other people who might love him.Or whatever.”
“Thanks.Really.”
With that settled, I felt a little better about how things went down at Picklesburgh, but not one-hundred percent.I tried to work out why as I spent my Saturday night playing video games and catching up on my podcasts.What was it about Toni’s whole rant that had gotten under my skin?Had it hit something true, and therefore raw?For all Diego and I had talked about our past shit, had come to an understanding, given each other some actual closure, and decided to move forward… part of him was hesitating.Out of fear, yeah, and thatwasnormal.And relatable.
Unfortunately, the podcast episode was about Katherine Howard, Henry VIII’s fifth and penultimate wife.And how he refused to crown her until she gave him a son.But he had her beheaded for treason before she even turned eighteen, so she never got the chance.So that was both a bummer and unexpectedly topical.
It was… not disappointing but sobering, I guess, to think Diego didn’t feel the same as I did.Which was totally conjecture, but why else would he be hesitating?Why else would that advice have stuck with him—enough that he had me on hold for two months after I first told him, “I want to be your boyfriend.”
Of course, that was all true before I knew that’d been Toni’s advice and not a spontaneous thing from him.And maybe that felt bad, too, in a childish way.That he believed her and not me.Which was dumb as hell, because ofcoursehe believed his best friend since elementary school.
Trying to process it left me in knots, so I decided to sleep on it.
***
Diego took the brunch shift on Sunday, then drove out to pick me up.Instead of waiting for me in the car, he came to my door.When I opened it, he was standing there biting his bottom lip, highlighter sparkling on his cheekbones, curls falling into his eyes.
The way my heart sped up, the way I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until neither of us could breathe right there on the spot, told me everything I needed to know.
It didn’t matter if he was afraid, or if he was playing some power game in his head, or if he thought of me as totally disposable.Maybe because I didn’t really believe it was either of those last two things.Maybe just because I didn’t care, as long as he let me stay with him.
Pathetic?Yeah, for sure.But also illuminating.I knew I was a simp, but it was good to know the full measure of my simpdom.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, big eyes serious and heavy-lidded.“It won’t happen again.And if you don’t want her to come to dinner—”
“It’s your birthday,” I reminded him, taking a step forward, then halting.
He threw himself at me, and I caught him around the waist.“My birthday’s tomorrow.”
“I know.”I smiled against his ear.“But you get the whole week.”
“You’re creating a monster,” he murmured.
“Feeding the monster, maybe,” I corrected with a chuckle.I nuzzled at his face, and he tilted his to catch my mouth with his.The rush of heat tangled up with a sense of relief as we kissed on my front step, and I knew if this went on too long, we were gonna be very, very late for dinner.
I bit at his bottom lip playfully, and when he pulled away laughing, I said, “Let’s go, before I drag the monster inside and have my way with him.”
He shivered against me, and for a second I thought I’d fucked up.But then he shoved his face into my neck and nibbled at it.“Tonight?”
“Tonight,” I promised.
***
The brick duplex Diego’s dad and stepmother owned had a storybook look to it, like some of the older buildings in town.The porch railings were cast iron, one of them sporting a progressive pride flag, both the doors decorated with standard-issue crafty wreaths.
Where moms got that stuff, I had no idea, but Annie Marsh clearly had the same dealer as Mary Kovacs.My mom had one for every week of the year, I was pretty sure.
Kelly popped her head out the front door of the pride flag house, then waved and smiled.
“You ready for this?”Diego asked with a crooked smile.
“Oh, I’m ready.Parents love me.”I grinned.
