Page 9 of Love Is…

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It’s a gym morning instead of a running morning, and Hal spends an extra fifteen minutes on the treadmill in an attempt to counteract last night’s fried chicken. In an unusual twist, Luke was up this morning before he was, hunched over his laptop and nursing espresso. The book is worrying him.

Something else is worrying Hal.

When Sandy offers him coffee and tells him Matt will be a few minutes coming down, he snags a bar stool and clears his throat, already nervous about what he’s going to ask her.

Sandy, because she’s Sandy, freezes in the act of stirring her own coffee and looks up at him, eyes wide and inviting.

“Um,” he starts, gracefully. “I wanted to ask you something, but I know it’s not really my place to–”

She silences him with a wave. “You and Luke saved my husband’s life. You can ask me whatever, whenever. Ask away.” And that’s that.

He takes a deep breath anyway. “So Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

Her smile widens.

“And even though Luke pretends he’s a prickly hedgehog, he’s actually the most secretly-romantic person I know.”

“Don’t we all know it, honey.”

“And I want to something special for him…”

~*~

Luke spends a week on his gift for Hal. It involves about forty bucks, and lots of help from both his own mother and Hal’s. The end result looks good.Reallygood. But he doesn’t know if it’s the sort of thing appropriate to give to the love of one’s life. Because that’s what Hal is – just the same as Luke is for Hal, he guesses. He believes. Because Hal isn’t a liar, and this, what they have, is real.

He smooths his hand through his hair one last time and lets out a slow, shaky breath. His reflection stares back at him, February-pale and wide-eyed. He looks nervous.

He checks his phone. Message from Hal:Meet me @ the Grind @ 8. Sent earlier that afternoon. Four smiley faces and a heart tacked onto the end. Luke smiles and shakes his head. He grabs his gift, and jacket, and heads for the coffee shop.

He’s got a car these days, thanks to the fact that he isn’t paying absurd rent on a crappy New York one-bedroom anymore, a Ford Focus that isn’t flashy, but gets him where he needs to go. But tonight he walks, gift crammed into his messenger bag, wanting to ride home together with Hal later, after they do whatever it is they’re going to do for Valentine’s Day.

Whatever it is, he’s so anxious he’ll probably ruin it. He…

He shuts down that line of thought with a deep breath. Self-deprecation that verges toward self-hate is his default setting. Hal wants him to treat himself better and maybe…maybe he needs to try, at least. For Hal.

For himself.

It’s a cold evening, and he tucks his chin down into the collar of his jacket, using it to warm the air before he breaths it down into his lungs. He can’t wait for spring to officially start: the cherry trees, and the rain-heavy clouds, and the smell of living things he never could find in New York. He’s missed living down here terribly. And now he’s here, and DC isn’t Virginia, but it’s close, and he has Hal, and friends, and safe places to be, and he just…

He can’t believe it. It doesn’t seem real, the turn for the better his life has taken. How can he deserve this?

The Grind isn’t as crowded as usual for a weeknight; couples are out having candlelit dinners at the swanky places along the strip. Luke spots a handful of busy students and a single woman reading a novel with a muffin and large coffee. And Tara. She’s sitting at his favorite table with a cookie the size of her head, breaking little bites off with her fingers. She waves him over when she spots him.

“Hey.” He sits down across from her. “I’m meeting Hal.”

“That’s what you think.” She snaps off a bite of cookie and holds it out to him. “Here.”

“What?”

“It’s chocolate chip.”

“No, I mean, what about Hal?” His heart thuds and he tells himself to settle down, wait and see.

“Breathe. Take the cookie.” He does. “Okay, calm down. This is part of the plan.”

“What plan?”

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