Page 79 of Dire Straights

“Probably not somewhere with sushi pizza or barbecue mac and cheese,” I answered. He liked eating the most bizarre shit. I’d actually watched him dip chicken nuggets in a chocolate milkshake when we’d gotten fast food one time. “Their culinary preferences are not as weird as yours.”

He laughed a little, squeezing my fingers. “You know, I used to hate being called weird. Even though I knew it was true, I still didn’t like it.”

“And now?”

“I don’t mind it anymore,” he said. “I mean, I don’t mind it coming from you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know you like it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I definitely like it.”

“I feel kind of lame saying this, but I just didn’t really know how cool it would feel to have someone really like me.”

“I didn’t know how cool it would feel to actually really like someone,” I responded, which made him laugh really hard for some reason.

“I think we’re perfect for each other.”

“Seems like we might be,” I agreed. And I was pretty sure it was true. I’d never wanted to be around anyone as much as Ren, and that feeling had not come anywhere close to fading away.

He was funny, sweet, and took care of me in all the ways I’d never even realized I needed to be cared for. I’d only lived on the planet for 19 years, but I was pretty certain Ren Suzuki was completely one of a kind. And there was no way in hell I was letting anyone else have him.

REN

EPILOGUE - TWO MONTHSLater

As the pixelated alien invaders closed in on us, the game let out a series of mocking beeps, flashing a big Game Over screen at us before displaying our final score. We weren’t breaking any world records, but it was a personal best for us on that particular game.

“You’re getting way better at video games,” I commented, as we lifted ourselves up out of the hard, plastic chairs in front of the arcade cabinet, putting down the special guns that controlled the game.

“Yeah, I know,” Maddy answered, looking wry. “You guys are totally dork-ifying me.”

“Especially Federation of Fables,” I added, ignoring the dork-ifying comment. It was pretty much true.

“Aspen’s a pretty good coach,” he agreed. “And he hasn’t yelled at me for messing up, so that’s been nice.”

“He can definitely be patient,” I said. “As long as your name doesn’t start with C and end with X.”

Snorting, he nodded. “That’s the truth.”

When we decided to take a break to eat, we headed into one of the casual sit-down places that were all over the boardwalk. We ordered at the counter before picking a table, where Maddy started complaining about how much homework our algebra professor liked giving out. We only had one class together again this semester, but at least it wasn’t creative writing.

At least we’d both done well on our midterms. Since swimming wasn’t taking up so much of Maddy’s time anymore, he was able to do a lot more studying. And sleeping. And spending time with me. Not necessarily in that order, though.

Dean Torres had been pretty pissed off about the way he’d represented our school, threatening to suspend him, until he’d told his side of the story. After finding out about all the homophobia and misogyny and all the other bigoted stuff running rampant within the team culture, and how Coach Larson had pretty much publicly humiliated him for daring to bring up a problem, she’d launched an investigation.

To our surprise, a bunch of guys on the team had actually corroborated Maddy’s story, and brought up their own issues with how he was handling his coaching duties. He’d been unceremoniously dismissed, and replaced with a female coach. The new coach had invited Maddy back on the team, but he’d politely declined, which I’d been pretty happy about.

After a handful of minutes ticked by and the text I’d been waiting for from Aspen popped up on my phone, I told Maddy I needed to run to the bathroom, and that I’d pick up our food from the counter on the way back.

“Okay,” he agreed, picking up his phone and shifting his attention to that as I walked off. He was definitely not the suspicious type, which was good. And other than that one time where I’d had to lie to set up his birthday party, I was pretty sure I’d never given him a reason to be.

Carefully slipping out of the door after glancing back at Maddy to make sure he wasn’t looking, I met Aspen out front.

“Here you go,” he said, handing me a small, white box. “Just baked this morning, and freshly decorated.”

“Thanks,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate you coming all the way out.”

---