Page 87 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

The words aren’t anything terribly new. We’re always messing with each other, taking jabs, but... my tone. It’s ugly and mean; it’s meant to wound. And when I look up at Yobani, it seems like it did the trick.

His eyebrows are pressed together, and his lips are tight. Finally, he starts to slowly shake his head. “Okay, Reggie.”

Everyone comes back soon after, and it’s all light and fun again. Yobani cracks jokes about Greg’s photoshoot and Greg excitedly shows off the “epic” shots and at some point Ryan starts singingsome old Disney Channel song about monsters, and Delilah turns it into a duet. I keep trying to catch Yobani’s eye and send him a silent apology, but eventually he pulls down his Miles Morales mask, shutting down that conversation for now.

I try to lose myself in this rare cold night—the weather always dips below seventy at Halloween and stays cool enough for sweaters until maybe MLK day, if we’re lucky. I focus on how good it feels to be cuddled up under this blanket with Delilah, warm and cozy as our breath lingers in the chilly, salty air. I think about how this is everything I wanted, everything I dreamed about at the beginning of this year that’s coming to an end.

But my mind keeps bouncing back to what Yobani said. He acted like it would be so easy, just a simple conversation, but I know it’s not like that. Showing Delilah all of me, all of my vulnerabilities and anxieties and faults at this point—well, it would be like presenting her with Captain America and then whipping off a mask to show her she’s really with that weirdo-looking CGI Steve Rogers. Except, I am wimpy CGI Steve Rogers at my best, so it would be like giving her, I don’t know... wimpy CGI Steve Rogers’s left pinkie finger or something.

Plus, for months, I’ve been encouraging her to take risks and put herself out there. How is she going to take it if she finds out I don’t even do that myself? That I’m a fraud who walks, no,runsaway from exposure, like a cockroach when a bright light flicks on. Would she still want me? I don’t know. In her eyes, it could be a betrayal.

Delilah’s hands creep under my shirt, sending sparks all up anddown my spine, and she leans her head on my shoulder in the spot that I swear was created just for her.

I don’t want to lose this.

But it’s also not fair to her to be in this and notbe in this.

Yobani is right. I know that. I need to allow her to make her own choice here. And if I never show her all of me and actually give her that choice, I’ll always be questioning what we have.

But I want to make sure we’re solid. That we have the best chance of weathering it through as one tough conversation and nothing more. I just need a little more time.

Thanksgiving

Delilah

It’s the morning of Thanksgiving when I realize I’m in love with Reggie. Maybe. Probably.

Georgia was the first one to call it out, only a week ago.

“You really love that boy, don’t you?” she said, just like that, without hesitation.

“What are you talking about?”

She smirked at me, put her hand on her hip. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about, D. You used to be all...” She closed her eyes halfway and pressed her lips tight, with one little quirk on the right side. “But now you’re all...” She stretched her face into a wide smile, like a deranged Cheshire Cat. “And I know it’s because of him.”

“God, I hope I don’t look like that,” I said, and she laughed.

“It’s a good thing. Ilikeseeing you like this.”

“Even though I broke the ‘pact’?” I asked, curling my fingers in air quotes.

She shrugged like it wasn’t the huge deal I made it out to be in my mind. “I was worried, but instead of losing yourself in him, you’re, like, even more yourself.” She wiggled her whole body in my direction, making her voice low. “Because you looooooooove him.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are so dramatic.”

Her support has made me happy, because I had been so scared what she might think. But the rest of that... I tried to push the ridiculous idea out of my mind. It’s too fast, too soon. I need to be rational about this.

But lying here with Reggie right now, our legs tangled together on my couch... it doesn’t seem so far-fetched.

“We should probably go,” he murmurs in my ear, kissing that spot right behind it that makes my lower stomach ache.

“Do we have to?” I whisper back, and he laughs. I can feel it on my neck, as his lips trail down from there to my collarbone.

Mom, Andre, and Georgia have already left for an earlier meal at Andre’s parents’ house, but Mom gave me permission to spend the day with Reggie and his family. And that’s where we’re headed, except he showed up an hour before we’re due there, and we didn’t want to waste the time.

“I wish we didn’t, but if we show up late... my parents will know why we showed up late.”

“Okay, you’re right.” I press one last kiss to his lips, and tuck my fingers into the very top of his waist band, so I can feel the soft skin there.

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