Page 64 of The Hookup Situation

Phil is holding his hand over his mouth and it looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “I’ll teach him,” he says. “Since you’re a dancer you might catch on quicker than you think.”

He’s right. It doesn’t take long before I’ve got it down, at least well enough that I don’t have to cling to someone for support. And I only fall down once, which I count as a win, especially when Preston is there to help me up.

After a while of skating with the family I take a break and get some hot chocolate. Phil comes to join me a minute or so later. He’s smiling when he sits down and rubs his knee. “These old joints aren’t what they used to be,” he says.

“They look good out there,” I tell him, as Preston, Paris and Pam glide around on the ice, their cheeks flushed and wide smiles on their faces. “You have a beautiful family.”

“Thank you,” he says. There’s a short pause before he speaks again and his words have me doing a double take. “I wanted to thank you, Jackson.”

“For?”

He nods towards the ice and his family. “I haven’t seen my son this happy in a long time. He’s doing better now, thank god, but for a while there we were really worried about him. He had so much on his shoulders, more than any teenager should have to carry, and he did it all without complaint because he loves us, but we could see how much it affected him, even though he tried not to show it. I don’t know how much he’s told you…” he makes eye contact with me.

“He told me about Phoenix, and the two of you having cancer.”

He nods. “Losing his brother, god, that was the hardest thing we ever went through, and I can tell you I think it was the hardest for him in some ways. Phoenix was the responsible one, you know, the one who took care of and looked out for everyone else, and Preston, well, he wasn’t.” He laughs a little. “I love my son, but he was the happy go lucky carefree type who didn’t really worry about anyone but himself, because he never really had to. Typical teenager, in other words. But losing Phoenix, it really rocked him, and he grew up really fast after that, especially once he was the caretaker for his mother and me while we were going through treatment and surgery. He was doing everything for everyone; looking after sick parents, driving Paris back and forth to school, helping with his homework, all the while trying to keep his head above the water and graduate high school. He was supposed to be going to homecoming and prom and playing his final year of volleyball, and instead he was taking us to chemo, and teaching Paris how to drive.” He takes a breath and I try to let it all soak in.

“That sounds really hard. For all of you.”

“Watching him graduate high school was one of the best days of our lives because there were times, with everything he dealt with, we weren’t sure he was gonna make it. His mom and I thought he might honestly just drop out because it was too much to handle, but he stuck with it. Then he stayed home for a year before going off to college so he could make sure we were all doing okay after everything.”

“He’s a great guy,” I say, gazing over at Preston as he grips Pam’s hand and they skate together.

“He is, and I’m really proud of him. I’m proud of all of my sons. But I know he still struggled with guilt, even after he went to college, wondering if he should have stayed longer,done more, worrying about us and Paris. But that smile, that’s something I thought I would never see again, and that’s why I’m thanking you, because I know you’re the one who put it there. Whatever you guys are to each other, you make him happy, Jackson.”

Shit. He can’t stay stuff like that. I don’t need anyone putting ideas in my head that this can ever be more than what it is, because even if I make Preston happy now, at some point, he’ll wake up and realize what I've known all along — I’m just a stand-in, a filler, a place-holder, and when he finds the guy, or girl, he really wants, he’ll break my heart.

On Saturday, we have a late breakfast after sleeping in, and then Preston tells me he has one last place to take me before we head back to campus the following day.

He tells me it’s casual so I dress accordingly and we climb in the car. About ten minutes later he pulls up outside of a movie theater.

“What are we seeing?” I ask him as I unbuckle.

“They’re doing a showing ofThe Two Towers.I thought you might like to watch it on the big screen again.”

Damn him. “Thank you,” I say and he squeezes my hand before we head inside. We get popcorn and soda and I feel his hand sliding into mine again as we watch the movie. It’s as epic as always, and I love and hate that he thought to bring me here.

I’ve had the best time with him and his family, and am not at all eager to go back to school. Even as upset as I am about my parents, I still managed to enjoy myself more than I ever have at Thanksgiving, or any holiday, really. They’ve all been wonderful, and the thought of not having this again makes my heart hurt.

I’m becoming more and more aware of just how dumb I was to come home with Preston, because watching him with his family, it’s making me feel things for him that I’ve tried so hard not to feel, since the moment we met. But as we sit in the car and he drives us home, his fingers laced with mine again, I realize that the one thing I told myself not to let happen, has.

I’m in love with him, and that means that I have to let him go.

PRESTON

Saying goodbye is always hard, but I’m comforted by the fact that I’ll be back with my parents and brother in only a few weeks.

Paris gives me a hug and tells me to “be good.”

“You, too,” I tell him. “Bye, squirt.” He’s grinning when I pull away. Mom has tears in her eyes and Dad puts his arm around her and holds her close.

“Bye, gorgeous,” Paris tells Jackson, with a little wave and a big smile. “You’re welcome back any time.”

Both of my parents tell Jackson how wonderful it was to have him here, and then we’re getting in the car and driving away.

I drop Jackson off at my place when we arrive and we see that his car is cleared of snow.

“You wanna come up?” I ask him, but he shakes his head. He was really quiet for most of the ride back and I wonder what’s on his mind. Maybe it’s his parents again? “Okay, well, I’ll text you later then.”

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