Page 29 of Meet Me in the Blue

I grinned.

“Uh-oh… Be careful. That sounded a lot like jealousy.”

“Because it is,” he said, his cheeks a deep shade of red. “I’m so fucking jealous I could scream. But I can’t be and that makes it worse, and… Oh my God, why are you laughing at me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. It sucks.”

I draped my arm over his shoulder, and like a million times before, he leaned into my side. With his hair against my neck, I was able to feel the texture. It felt the same as it always had, and it made me smile even wider.

“You sound like a whiny teenager.”

“Way to rub it in.”

“I’ve always been real with you.”

He was quiet as we both stared out toward the horizon. “Be real with me,” he whispered, like the words had trapped themselves inside his throat. “Are we… okay?”

It wasn’t that simple. But it could be.

It wasn’t about best friends and hurt hearts. Not anymore. Luka meant more to me than that, and maybe it took me forever to figure it out, but what we had was bigger than I ever knew, and it took me losing him to acknowledge I never wanted to let him go again.

I turned, any trepidation I had seemed foolish to me now, and pressed my nose to his temple. He snuck his arm around my lower back. We were kids again, watching the sun dip below the horizon. “We will be.”

• ••

The Abrams’s house was all laughter and light when I arrived the next day. My parents had already been here for the past hour and were in the kitchen with Luka’s mom. Nora was snuggled next to her dad on the couch, and I was surprised to see him up and awake. Last night, Luka had stayed for dinner and had caught me up on his dad’s condition, both of us silently agreeing the last five years could wait. We skirted around the issues we should have been working through, focusing on his dad, and reminiscing about the old days over beer and tacos. And being here now, all the warm chatter, and the smell of garlic and butter in the air, I could pretend like nothing had changed. That his dad, at any minute, would start bitching about the game not being on, while Nora teased her brother, calling him a remote hog. The private scene in my head played out as I leaned in the doorway to the living room. Luka hadn’t noticed me yet, and I took the rare few seconds to admire him. His hair was damp, flopping over his forehead. A five o’ clock shadow dusted across his jawline, carving it out in stark angles. It wasn’t necessarily attraction that warmed my stomach, but more the familiarity of him. The steadfast lines of him I could trace with my eyes closed, the sound of his voice as grounding as it had always been. My heart spread out inside my chest, stretching far enough it almost hurt to breathe as Luka laughed. He tilted his head and found me watching, giving me a nod, I pushed away from the wall.

“Hey,” he said, and his sister waved.

“Like old times.” Nora gave her brother a pointed look.

“Rook?” His dad’s voice was too thin. “It’s good to see you, son.”

“You, too, Dr. Abrams.”

“Rook… come on. Before I die, just once will you call me Isaac.” He was joking and I tried to smile.

“Isaac.”

He yawned and sank deeper into the sofa. “I like the way that sounds.”

My throat pinched as I blinked back the moisture fighting its way to the surface. Luka looked up at me, his eyes glassy, while Nora curled her fingers in the fabric of her father’s hoodie.

“Me too,” I said, and Luka stood.

“Should we see if they need help in the kitchen?”

“I should say hello to your mom.”

Isaac’s eyes closed as Luka and I made our way to the kitchen.

“Fuck,” I whispered, and the word was strained, wet with the tears I couldn’t hold on to any longer.

Luka took my hand, pulling me into the hall, and I wiped my cheek with the other. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I have no idea how you’re okay.”

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