Page 112 of College Town

“Carriage,” Tommy says, shoving his face hard into the side of Lawson’s chest.

“Hm?”

“Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin, the carriage does.”

Lawson ruffles his fluffy hair and feels too tender inside, too vulnerable touching him like this in front of witnesses. Dana will give him hell tomorrow, but in the moment, he doesn’t care. “Glad you’ve got all your Disney princesses figured out.”

“Pffft.” Tommy shakes his head “Cinderella’s not Disney. Notoriginally.”

“Right, right, sure. Shall we?”

Lawson and Leo both leave sizable cash tips and get their shambling counterparts through the maze of tables and outside. The cold air hits Lawson’s face like a slap, and Tommy jerks under his arm, standing up straight and clutching tight at the back of Lawson’s jacket.

“Shit,” he says, and a glance proves he’s blinking and wiping at his face with his other hand and trying to forcibly drag himself out of his drunken haze.

“There he is,” Lawson teases, jostling him.

Tommy shakes his head. “Ugh.” Then squeezes his eyes shut. “Note to self: don’t dothat.”

Dana looks almost sober with the wind tugging at her hair, and her arms banded tight across her middle. “Make sure he drinks more water,” she instructs Lawson.

“Gallons of it,” Lawson assures. “And maybe coffee.”

“Lots of coffee,” Tommy agrees, still leaning hard against his side.

Dana steps away from Leo and up to them, standing on her tiptoes again to hug Lawson. She hangs a little heavier onto his neck than normal, betraying her intoxication. “This was fun,” she says.

“Yeah.”

When she drops back to her heels, she turns, and regards Tommy a moment – and then surges forward and wraps him in a hug, too.

It’s a little awkward, because Lawson doesn’t let go of him – he’s not convinced he won’t tip over like a felled tree if he does – and because Tommy is clearly shocked. His eyes pop wide, and it takes him a moment to wrap his free arm around Dana in return.

Dana doesn’t seem to mind; holds on until she gets what she deems a proper hug. When she draws back, she takes Tommy’s face between her palms and gives him a gentle shake. “Don’t be a stranger, Kitty Cat,” she says like an order. “And be sweet to my Lawson.”

“I will,” Tommy says, all ruffled, and baffled, and honest as a child again.

“Good to meet you, Tommy,” Leo says, his arm going around Dana again, drawing her back. “Night, guys. See you, Lawson.”

“Night.”

“Nice to meet you, Leo.”

Dana doesn’t sway or stagger, but Leo keeps his arm anchored firm across the small of her back as they make their way across the lot to Leo’s Subaru.

Lawson waits for Tommy to duck out from under his arm, but if anything, he leans a little more of his weight into Lawson’s side. His hand comes up, resting against Lawson’s ribs: for balance, or just because, only Tommy could say. “He’s not what I expected,” he says, as Leo and Dana slide between two cars and disappear from sight. “Very…”

“Professorial?” Lawson guesses.

Tommy snorts. “Heisa professor. But I meant…nice. He’skind.”

Leo is kind, in that deep, innate way that can’t be faked with superficialniceness. But it strikes him as funny that Tommy picked up on it.

Maybe it shouldn’t. Tommy’s always been perceptive. He knew, for instance, that the first time he kissed Lawson, Lawson wouldn’t shove him away and call him names. That he wanted it, too.

“He is,” Lawson agrees, and steers them around the other way so they’re headed for the Navigator. “Come on, little pumpkin. Let’s get you home.”

Tommy shuffles along willingly, but sighs. “I already told you: it’s the carriage that’s a pumpkin,” he says, long-suffering. “Your metaphor is faulty.”

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