Page 50 of The Way Home

“No problem, J.”

Guilt flooded his chest. Why was he like this? Why did he have to be anxious about everything all the time? There was nothing wrong with his sexuality. Nothing at all.

What are you, kid, a fag?

He shook his head, willing the memory away. Maybe times had changed, and people were kind and inclusive…

“Don’t worry about it,” Ellie said kindly. “I wanted to go when I saw Halcombe, anyway.”

“Caleb’s boss? Why?”

A beat of silence.

“He’s a homophobic prick, that’s why.”

Jamie’s heart sank as he forced himself not to look back at Caleb. Maybe times hadn’t changed.

Chapter 12

Jamie picked upsome flowers on his way to Ellie’s because it was Valentine’s Day. Also, it was something to do with his hands.

He liked biking for so many reasons, and he didn’tmindtaking the Tube, but he never really knew how to act sitting on the plastic bench surrounded by advertisements about hair products and television shows that he’d never seen.

What did people do with their hands while they sat here? Staring at his mobile didn’t feel right since he was always silently judging the kids at The Library for being glued to theirs. Also, he now apparently had an iPhone, something he’d never thought he’d get. It was incredibly overstimulating, always beeping and dinging.

Holding onto one of the poles felt unsanitary because he had forgotten to wear gloves. But stuffing his hands into his pockets felt unfriendly.

So, alas, he picked up some flowers and held them as he watched the little digital map slide from one stop to the next. His heart clenched a little as they passed King’s Cross St. Pancras. It made him think about how much he missed the Library. And Jean-Baptiste, his sassy French coworker.

Ugh, he missed JB.

“Cheers,” a middle-aged woman two seats down said to him, staring at his flowers. “She’s a lucky lady!”

Jamie smiled weakly at the woman and slipped off the train atHighbury and Islington. He kicked himself the whole walk to Ellie’s for not correcting that woman. But what was he going to say?No, ma’am, you misunderstand. I’m gay. But these are for a woman. And I did date her. For a really long time, actually. So, you’re kind of wrong but not really. Also, help.

The walk to Ellie’s flat felt nice and familiar, which his brain really needed. It had been exhausting lately, cataloging all thesenewthings—everything about Caleb’s flat, trying to figure out a routine in Soho, and meeting all of these people who already knew everything about him—so turning on autopilot and walking down Queen Head’s Street felt like a breath of fresh air.

Except the fresh air was freezing, and now he really regretted forgetting his gloves and exposing his fingers to the elements by carrying flowers. At least he could stuff one hand in his pocket—

“What the—?” Jamie froze on the sidewalk as his fingertips brushed a ball of fabric. He pulled a pair of leather gloves and inspected them. Whose were they, and why were they in his jacket? The tag said ‘vegan PU leather.”

Okay, mystery solved. Definitely his.

He felt his cheeks heat up, despite the bitter cold. Had Caleb tucked these into his jacket before he left this morning for the Chelsea game? He was always so worried about Jamie; he’d even brought an extra jacket to practice the other day just for him.

“Oi!” Jamie hadn’t realized he was staring goofily at a pair of gloves in the middle of a neighborhood until the voice from the upper window. “Good lad, gettin’ yer lady flowers!”

“Uh, yep!” He held the flowers up in a littlecheersand scurried along. With warm hands and the ghost of a dopey smile on his face, Jamie let himself into Ellie’s building and walked up the steep steps to her door.

“Are these for me?” Ellie asked, eyeing up the flowers.

“Of course they are. It’s Valentine’s Day, you dolt.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and let him in, muttering to herself about weird men and out-of-date patriarchal rituals. Jamie smiled as she cut the stems of the flowers and displayed them in her favorite vase.

“I missed you,” he said, pulling her away from the countertopand into a hug. Her hair smelled like vanilla, and it filled Jamie with a cozy bit of nostalgia. He squeezed her tighter.

“I saw you, like, two days ago,” she muttered grumpily into his chest.