Page 57 of Home in Nevada

When I reach the bookmark, there it is—the old polaroid photo of us, slightly faded and curling at the edges. My cocky smirk stares back at me… I thought I owned the world back then. I cringe, my eyes shifting to Jamie. His soft, earnest smile catches me off guard, just like it always did, his big brown eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. There’s a streak of dirt smudged across his cheek from the game, but somehow it only adds to his charm, making him look effortlessly adorable, like he stepped out of some coming-of-age movie we didn’t even know we were starring in. His jersey hangs a little loose on his leaner frame, and there’s a glimmer of pride in his expression that tightens something in my chest. A bittersweet ache settles over me as I take it all in, the memory of that moment.

At the bottom of the photo, my eyes land on the words I scrawled years ago in bold, clumsy letters, right next to our high school numbers: "42 and 16, teammates for life."

Teammates for life.

Jamie. Is that why he couldn’t let me go? The thought grips me, sharp and unrelenting. Did he see something in this—in us—that I’d been too scared to face back then? Did he see how much I was struggling on the inside, even when I couldn’t admit it to myself? Is that why he kept reaching out, still believing I was worth it, despite everything I’d put him through?

For the first time, this journal doesn’t feel like a reminder of the person I didn’t want to be. It feels like a reminder of who I need to fight for.

Chapter 15

The one where Jeff gets bossed around.

I’mawreckbythe time I land at the airport. A whole week with Jamie in Nevada, and everything I’ve brought is crammed into my backpack. It feels surreal—terrifying, even—but here I am, trying to keep my shit together as I weave through the crowd toward baggage claim.

Before heading outside, I duck into the restroom to pull myself together. The fluorescent lights are way too harsh, and when I catch my reflection in the mirror over one of the sinks, I almost don’t recognize myself. My hair’s a disaster, sticking out in every direction like I’ve been through a wind tunnel. I run my hands through it, but it’s no use. My eyes are red-rimmed, still puffy from sleepless nights.

God, I look awful.

I let my backpack slide off my shoulder and dig into the side pocket for eye drops. Getting the damn drops in my eyes feels like a circus act, but I manage, blinking furiously until the sting fades. I splash cold water on my face and wipe it off with the sleeve of my shirt, trying to make myself look less like a guy who’s been crying over his ex. It doesn’t help much, but it’ll have to do.

I grip my arms, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but all I feel is how much smaller they’ve gotten. I’ve wasted away these past few months, my once-defined frame now leaner, weaker. The gym feels like a distant memory, along with every ounce of confidence I used to have. I hadn’t felt worthy the last time I saw Jamie, and I sure as hell don’t now.

Jamie said he’d park in the garage and wait for me. The thought sends my stomach flipping. How do I even face him after everything? How do I say hi like this isn’t the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt in my life?

I step outside into the cool, crisp air of March. The parking garage is quieter compared to the chaos of the terminal, but my pulse thunders in my ears as I scan the rows of cars. That’s when I see him—sitting on the hood of his stupid red Mercedes, completely absorbed in his phone.

My heart stumbles over itself, a mix of nerves and adrenaline coursing through me. What am I supposed to say? How do I even begin to act normal? I drop my backpack onto the pavement with a loud thud, and Jamie’s head snaps up. His brown eyes meet mine, and then he’s grinning like I’m the only person in the world.

“Jeff!” he calls out, hopping off the hood of his car.

Before I can even process it, Jamie’s running toward me. He throws his arms around me in a hug that’s so tight it knocks the breath out of me.

“Hey,” I gasp, smacking his shoulder until his grip loosens. “I can’t breathe.”

Jamie pulls back just enough to look at me, his face glowing with that same soft, earnest smile I’ve missed more than I can admit. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Honestly… neither can I,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re messed up, dude.”

Jamie laughs, but there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something vulnerable. For the first time, it really hits me how much he’s kept hidden. Jamie’s been talking about that crush since third grade, but I never fully understood how deep his feelings went. And now I’m realizing I’ve been in love with him for just as long. Maybe longer.

Before I can overthink it, my hand lifts on instinct, my fingers brushing through his hair. It’s as soft as I remember, and the touch sends a wave of warmth through me. “Your hair looks nice like this,” I murmur, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.

Jamie’s eyes widen slightly, his expression shifting into something unguarded. “...What?”

I hesitate. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I really like when you do that,” he says, his voice steady but soft.

Oh, God. His words hit me hard and I pull back, overwhelmed, grabbing my backpack off the ground to steady myself. Jamie leans back against his car, watching me with that same disarming smile.

It takes me a moment to find my voice again. “Let’s go,” I manage, slinging the bag over my shoulder and stepping toward the passenger side. My heart’s still racing.

As we slide into the car, the soft thud of the door closing feels heavier than it should. Jamie starts the engine, glancing at me with that same warm smile he’s been wearing since I landed.

“You know,” he says, his voice light but teasing, “you’re super cute when you’re nervous.”

“What?” I snap my head toward him, feeling the heat rush to my face. “I’m not nervous.”

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