Page 52 of Winter Break

“Jäger,” he wheezed. “I hate it so much.”

“You picked this one.” Preston, who, with nothing else to do, had been watching us, came over with our next drinks, giving us a questioning look before taking the Redheaded Sluts away.

“An extension, Dalt? What are you even talking about? Explain.”

“What if it’s not me he wants. I mean, obviously, he pushed me away, he’s avoided me all this time. What if he realized … What if the only reason we …” I made a motion with my hand that I’m sure my best friend could translate as fooled around. “What if he only saw me as some kind of substitute, some kind of”—I couldn’t think of a better word—“extension of my family, of the life he’s found here?” Quietly, I concluded, “What if it was never about me?”

Austin sat quietly, thinking about it. Really thinking about it. Eventually, he shook his head no. “Turner’s a good guy, Dalt. Were you using him? You know, to fulfill some teenaged fantasy?”

I respected the question and gave it some thought too. “I remember him from back then. When we were kids. How handsome he was. And how polite. How not dumb and boisterous he was.”

Austin got it. “How not like Brett.”

“Yeah. But when he came back? When he moved here? He’d grown up. He was older, and sadder, and even more cautious than he’d been when my idiot brother brought him home that first Christmas, unannounced. And I’d like to think I’d grown up too. I may have still been young, too young.” I smiled. “But that’s the guy I remember. Not the lost college student but the man who was brave enough to leave his life behind and make Breakwater his home.”

“So. Last year, if that wasn’t your teenage fantasy, do you think it was his Breakwater fantasy, or do you think it was about you and him? You know, just two guys who were into each other, sharing a great big old box of condoms.”

Austin held his drink in front of his face as he said that last part. I laughed and yanked the drink out of his mouth.

“Okay! Enough Sex on the Beach for you.”

“No Fucks Given,” he mumbled.

More quietly, I shared, “For the record, we didn’t use condoms.”

Austin got a serious look on his face, and I could feel a drunken medical lecture incoming. I put his drink down and put my hand up in front of his face to stop him.

“We didn’t use them because we didn’t need them. We never …”

“Wait? What? You said …”

“I mean, we hooked up, we fooled around, we just never did anything that required condoms,” I spit out under my breath.

Austin swiped back his drink and took another sip. “Are you a side, my dude? You could have told me back when we were experimenting. We didn’t have to … oh. Or are you both tops? Or bottoms? I thought you liked ...”

I looked over, and yup, Preston couldn’t help but listen in to Austin’s boozy ramblings. I grabbed the drink again and whispered to Austin, “You know I’m verse. We just never … I mean. We ate dinner together a lot, after working in the bookstore. And we never even got around to talking about … preferences. Or acting on them.”

“Oh my God,” Austin exclaimed.

“Shhh!” I insisted, and he respected it, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Someone needs to lock the two of you in the toy store overnight until you work your shit out. It’s called communication, Dalton. Try it!”

I spent a lot of time talking and texting with Austin between Thanksgiving and the winter break. I was home a day before he was set to arrive. He’d reminded me often that he had an exam scheduled during the last possible slot available at Hampstead University. He was not happy about it.

The night before that last exam I texted him, whining about how I’d gone to the toy store to find just Casey and some teenager there.

Turner was at a meeting with your dad, but I chickened out and didn’t go to the Three B’s. I’m home now.

I’ll be home late tomorrow. Let’s plan to shop on Thursday. We can casually stop by the toy store.

Okay, yeah. Sounds like a plan. Is Martin heading up today to pick you up? I don’t know why you don’t just bring a car up there. That’s a long round trip for him.

Ugh! Didn’t I tell you? My dad invited some old college friend of his home for the holidays. He lives in one of the ski towns up here. He’s my ride.

Your dad has friends who aren’t in the Chamber of Commerce?

Who knew, right?