Toes wiggling in my dress shoes, anchoring me to the floor. The scent of my own aftershave, of steak dinner, of a room full of people. The bubble of champagne over my tastebuds, tamping down the sharp tang of anxiety. Cole’s eyes, forever encouraging. Bree and Seth in front of me, sitting side by side, holding hands and smiling.
I should have taken my glasses off so that everyone else would be a blur. Too late now, probably.
The microphone is smooth and heavy in my hand, and I lift it to my mouth.
“Um, so I’m not much of a public speaker. That’s probably the first thing the students in my history classes will tell you. And I’m not exactly the warmest guy either, which they will also tell you. At length. Seth, honestly — when you asked me to be your best man, my first thought was that you must know at least ten people who would do a better job than I could. You know, seeing the best in myself has never exactly beenmy strong suit.”
Someone in the back of the room coughs, and I figure I had better get to the point.
“But you know, this is a wedding toast, and you guys aren’t my therapists. So here’s what I’m really trying to say — Seth, the past few months, getting to spend this time with you — it’s pretty much been the best time in my life. You and Bree have been a whirlwind, but I can see how well you fit together, how you’re perfect for each other, how much room your love has to grow. And thanks to you —”
I glance over at Cole, and he smiles.
“Thanks to you, and Bree, and this whole crazy situation we’ve ended up in, I’ve found something —someone— that I thought I had lost forever. I’ve learned how to let hope and love into my life, how to be myself — how to let youknowme, know who Ireallyam. I just — I can’t thank you enough. So —” I raise my glass. “Here’s to you guys.”
Everyone is draining from their glasses, and they’re clapping and cheering, and the band is beginning to play once more. But Cole is throwing an arm around my shoulders, and Seth is hugging my other side, and Bree is pulling me down to kiss my cheek, and I remember what Seth said back on the Cape, and I know he was right —
This is myfamily. And it always will be.
Twenty
A New Year
December 2025
“HOW ABOUT YOU, EZRA?”What are you leaving in 2025?”
“Huh?” I drag my attention away from the drunken news anchors on the television and try to focus on Bree. Honestly, I’m not much better off than the two idiots giggling over a tray of jello shots in front of the jumbotron.
Across the room, Seth laughs. “He’s going to stop spacing out in the middle of conversations.”
“Fat chance, smartass,” I snort. “Um— academia. Handed in my last set of final grades twoweeks ago, and I regret nothing. Hookup apps. And being a sad, lonely bastard.”
Cole snuggles into me, running a hand along my thigh. “Still a bastard, though, I hope.”
“I mean, that goes without saying.” I turn to look over at him. Even though it’s a casual party, just a few of Bree and Seth’s friends from Boston staying overnight at the Slade house on the Cape, I know it’s a big deal that he’s chosen to be comfortable tonight. He’s wearing his glasses and a pale pink sweater, and I can’t stop touching him. “What about you? What are you leaving behind?”
“Not being with you,” he murmurs, and I don’t care that we’re in a room full of people. I take his hand and hold it against my chest, and when he looks at me, we’re our own island.
Well, not quite. Across the room, Bree sighs and rolls her eyes in mock exasperation. “You two arehopeless. Dave, it’s your turn —”
The chatter moves past us, but I’m only sort of listening. I’ve gotten more used to being around people in the last few months, to accepting that not everyone sees me as a hideous, unlovable monster. But still, in a crowd like this, I prefer to hang back and observe, to let sound flow around but not always through me. So I slide down in my seat, nestling beneath Cole’s outstretched arm, and I let myself drift, knowing that I have everything I need right here.
Soon it’s almost midnight, and Cole wiggles out from underneath me to help Bree pass out glasses of champagne. On the TV, the poor frozen assholes who went to Times Square on purpose instead of getting the hell out of the city are bouncing up and down in anticipation. Someone is singing “Imagine,” and Cole pulls me to my feet, slinging an arm around my shoulders and clinking our glasses together.
“Here’s to being the people we’ve always wanted to be,” he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.
“To second chances,” I agree. “To being us.”
“Five — four — three — two — one — HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
His kiss is champagne-fizzy, sweet and lingering. The TV is still on, and people are chattering all around us, and there are a few wolf-whistles as I throw my arms around his neck and keep him in place. But this is the thing I never thought I’d have, that I’ve never even dared to dream about, not since I was a teen on a frozen night just like this one in a New Jersey backyard. And when Cole pulls me into a crushing hug, murmuring words of love into my ear, I know he’s feeling it too.
When we finally break apart, Bree and Seth are beside us, and there are more hugs and kisses, more wishes for a better future. The party goes on, and we mingle — well, Cole mingles. No matter how far I’ve come, small talk still makes me feel like I have several extra limbs, or that my skinsuit is three sizes too small.So I walk around the room collecting glasses, and when my arms are laden, I bring them back to the kitchen.
The back door isright there. I don’t think it would hurt if I took just a minute to step into the quiet, to center myself as the party winds down. And so I cross the room, slipping out into the night.
The backyard is just as I remember it, except for the layer of frost in the grass, the way my breath puffs a white cloud in front of me with every exhale. I could go back in for my coat, but somehow I don’t want to break the spell. I walk across the yard toward the water, and I can’t help thinking about how my heart was breaking the last time I strode across this grass, how wrong I was about Cole and myself and everything. We’ve talked it all over, and I know how strong we are now, but I feel like I’ll still carry that memory with me, words and tears poured into the soil beneath my feet.
