Page 27 of Meet Me in the Blue

“It’s good to see you. You plan on sticking around for a while this time?” Carter asked and Ron shot him a look. “What? I can’t ask an honest question?”

“It’s fine and well deserved… Yeah. I’m here for good, I think. Just started at The Herald.” I held up the bag in my hand. “Hit up Dot’s bakery. I mean, I’m basically a local again.”

Carter hummed, something serious crossing his expression. “I’m sorry about—”

“It’s okay. I know… and thank you, it’s just… God, I don’t think I can handle one more person saying how sorry they are. You know what I mean?”

“I do,” he said, reaching out to settle his hand on my shoulder. “But maybe I’m sorry is just another way people can let you know they’re here for you, if you need it.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling like an asshole. “It’s hard remembering that sometimes. That I’m not alone.”

“You’re home, Luka.” Ron squeezed my other shoulder, and I had to blink away the sudden sting in the corner of my eyes. “You’re not alone anymore.”

I croaked as they sandwiched me into a giant bear hug. “Fuck, Carter, when did you get so touchy feely? You used to threaten to flush me down the toilet if I looked at you the wrong way in high school.”

“I was a dick. Chalk it up to growing pains,” he said, shrugging as he squeezed me tighter.

I didn’t think it was possible to laugh and cry at the same time. But there I was, in the middle of the sidewalk, falling apart, with an arm full of pastries and ex-Marines.

ROOK

“I’M GOING TO TELLthem tonight, at dinner. Tell them I’m gay.” Luka blew his hair out of his eyes and flopped backward onto his pillows. The latest edition ofAmateur Photographerhe’d been flipping through earlier spilled to the floor with a quiet thump. “I think I’m ready.”

“Oh?” He rested his sock-covered foot in my lap, and I tugged on his toe. “Are you scared?”

“I should be.” He shrugged, staring at me as I pressed my thumb into the arch of his foot, worry and something I couldn’t decipher narrowed his eyes. His voice had an edge to it, rough and deeper than usual when he said, “I can’t change who I am. This isn’t a choice. And I think… I hope they know that.”

The footboard post dug against my spine as I tried to think of something supportive to say. This was big. And I didn’t think his family would care, but I guess you never knew how people truly felt about the way the world worked sometimes.

“Your parents are chill. I don’t think you have to worry.” I squeezed his ankle. “And if they’re assholes about it, you can come live with me. I swear, my parents love you more than their own sons sometimes.”

“Shut up,” he said, and his quiet laugh made me laugh too. “They do not.”

“My mom told you the other day you were her favorite son. Remember?”

“That’s because Reese got caught making out with that girl in his room.”

It was more than making out, but I’d promised Reese I wouldn’t say anything to anyone. It wasn’t my story to tell anyway.

“If you want… I’ll stay. They can’t get too mad if I’m here, right?”

The corners of Luka’s mouth tipped as he nodded. “Shit. Yeah… okay. Thanks.”

“I’ve got your back, Luka. Always.”

• ••

Luka’s beat-up VW was parked in front of my house when I got home Saturday from my fishing trip with Ron. Steam billowed from his muffler, condensation dripping from the metal pipe into a well-formed puddle on the pebbled drive like he’d been waiting here a while. His silver-blue gaze met mine through his rearview mirror as I cut my engine. We’d texted a few times this week, mostly about his new job, and how excited he was to start. I was cautious in my enthusiasm. Luka was known for laying shallow roots. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that this job meant anything permanent. With a weary smile and a stomach full of butterflies, I got out of the car. He did the same, giving me a small wave as the door to the Bug slammed shut.

“I can’t believe that thing still runs,” I said and contemplated giving him a hug. Five years ago, it would have been second nature. I pushed my hands into my pockets. “What’s up, everything okay?”

Luka lightly kicked a stray pebble, running his hand through his bleach-blond hair. My fingers itched to feel the strands, to know if they were as coarse as they looked. His shirt collar was stretched out, revealing a tattoo. His collarbone was sharp beneath his pale skin, the scribbled ink almost indecipherable.

Meet me in the blue.

The words were ours. I wanted to reach out and touch them, but his fingertips traced the delicate sentence and I realized he’d caught me staring.

“I got it when I moved to California,” he said, softly enough I wasn’t sure if he was reminding himself or talking to me. Luka adjusted the shirt, pulling his jacket closed as he shivered. His eyes never left mine. “I got a few others too. But this one is my favorite. A reminder of home.”

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