Page 69 of Say You'll Be Jasmine

“Who knows?” Avery says. “Maybe someday you can. The café is still going strong. Jack says there’s someone coming by several times a week to pick up baked goods. As long as someone at Montridge cares enough, the Boyfriend Café will never truly die. It’ll just keep getting passed down, like a family heirloom.”

“That’s one strange family heirloom.”

“It is,” Avery says. “But that’s the best part about it. This is our family and our family heirloom. And I have a feeling it’s going to stay that way for a long, long time.”

We might be sitting across an entire ocean from Montridge and the university and the café, but I like the sound of that. I like feeling that tether back to home. It reminds me that no matter how far Avery and I travel, no matter what new adventures we find, there will always be something worth going back to.

“I don’t think I can drink another drop,” Avery says.

“Me neither. My bladder is about to explode.”

We hit the bathroom before leaving the shop. London’s trademark gray drizzle tickles our cheeks as we make for the tube that will take us home. Well, to one of our homes. We haven’t quite decided what “home” home is going to be yet. There’s a whole big world out there to see, and we aren’t sure where our research and our curiosity is going to take us in the end.

Maybe home is here, the old, narrow, winding streets and gray drizzle. Maybe it’s New Jersey, where Avery’s parents live. Maybe it’s my small town in Wisconsin with its fudge and its single lonely gay bar. Maybe it’s somewhere else entirely.

Maybe it’s wherever Avery is.

Whatever the answer is, I kind of can’t wait to find out.