37
I’m happy.
Truly, honestly, and completely happy.
Spending time with Emma every day after school feels like I’m walking through some kind of dream I never want to wake up from. It’s that simple—and that complicated.
Our “relationship,” if I can even call it that, has been going strong for a month now. One whole month of her smile, her teasing glances, her warmth beside me when we sit close. We never talked about putting a label on it. Maybe we’re scared to. Maybe we don’t need to. But whatever this is, it feels real. And it makes me feel alive.
Kate is still in my life—technically. We’re still friends, I suppose. But I’ve made sure to keep a healthy distance. I haven’t told her about Emma and me. Not because I don’t trust her… I don’t even know what it is, really. I just feel like I want to keep this private. Not a secret, exactly, but something that’s only mine.
Ours.
But I did finally come out to Sam.
I still remember how her jaw literally dropped when I told her I was gay. Her eyes went wide like dinner plates, and her hands fanned her face as if I had just told her I had three weeks left to live.
The first words out of her mouth? “You bitch! And you’re telling me this just now? We’ve been friends for how many years—blah blah blah—seriously?!”
Classic Sam.
After the shock wore off, though, she pulled me into a tight hug and whispered, “I love you, you idiot.”
She’s the second person in my life to fully accept me. The first was Emma, in her own quiet way. I haven’t told my family yet. I don’t know if I ever will. But when I do, I hope—God, I hope—they’ll feel the same way Sam did.
It was lunch break when everything shifted just a little again.
Sam and I were sitting in the cafeteria, sharing a tray of fries and talking about our English project, when Kate walked by with her usual crew. They stopped two tables away from us, laughing over something probably shallow.
Then Kate saw me. “Hi, Jenny. Do you guys want to join us?” she asked, voice casual, smile polite.
I glanced at Sam, who didn’t even try to mask her disapproval. She gave a subtle shake of her head.
“Uhm, no thank you. We’re just about done,” I replied, forcing a smile at Kate and her friends. Then I turned back to Sam, trying to read her expression.
“Dude, is there a problem?” I asked her, gently nudging her arm.
“No. It’s just that… I don’t like her,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. She avoided my eyes, wearing that weak smile she pulls out when she knows she’s about to say something unpopular.
“What? Why?” I blinked at her. She didn’t know about the past between Kate and me. I never told her. I didn’t see the point. As far as she knew, Kate and I were just old friends. So what was this about?
Sam hesitated. I could tell she was debating whether to speak freely with Kate so close by.
“Come on,” I said, standing. “Let’s walk.”
She followed me without a word. As we passed Kate’s table, I gave her a polite nod, which she returned with a small wave.
We walked to the bench near the school’s field, one of the quieter spots around campus. I waited for her to talk, not wanting to push. I knew Sam well enough to understand that sometimes she needed a bit of space to lay things out.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“I know she’s your friend,” she began slowly, “but there’s something about her that I don’t like. You know?”
I just watched her, waiting.
“The way she looks at you…” She paused. “It’s not just friendly, Jen. I mean, I know it sounds crazy. But it’s like she wants something more. It’s the vibe. She gives off this energy—like she’s hiding something. Like she’s being sweet to your face but thinking something else.”
I stayed quiet. It wasn’t that I agreed or disagreed—I just wanted her to finish.
“And dude, like… if you liked her too, that’s fine. I mean, now that I know you're gay, I’m cool with it. Totally. I just think she’s pretending to be nice. Like there’s some kind of hidden agenda. A bad one.”
Her words hung in the air for a moment.
I tried to search my memory—moments where Kate and Sam crossed paths, brief exchanges, glances—but nothing jumped out at me. Still, I didn’t want to invalidate how Sam felt. I valued her honesty, and she never said anything just to stir drama.
“Well,” I finally said, “if that’s how you feel… at least now I know. And I respect that, okay?”
I gave her a small smile. She relaxed a little.
“And uhm…” I shifted slightly, “I want to tell you something else.”
She perked up immediately, eyes glinting. She lived for these moments—secrets, confessions, bits of gossip.
I let the silence stretch, teasing her.
“Jennifer!” she whined, her hands flying toward me to smack my arm.
“Ow! Ow! Fine!” I laughed, shielding myself. “I’m telling you!”
She grinned, leaning in.
“It’s about Emma. My girl neighbor,” I said.
Her eyes widened in curiosity. I told her everything—how we met, how I felt, how our little “arrangement” started. I left out the intimate parts, of course. She didn’t need all the details. Just the real stuff. The emotional stuff.
“Duuude!” she shrieked. “You’re in love!”
I laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I am.”
“But…” Her voice turned serious.
“But what?”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit… complicated? I mean, I’m all in, as long as you’re happy. You know that. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Especially if you’re the only one falling.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
“I know, dude. I really do. But like you said, I’m in love. Even if it means I get hurt in the end… I’m willing to risk it. I want to be with her—label or no label.”
She pulled me into a hug. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”
Then she held my hands tightly. “And if you ever need anything—anything at all—I’m one call away.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. My chest tightened with emotion.
“Thank you, Sam. You’re such a great friend.”
We ended the day talking about everything and nothing—our usual style. Even in the car as I dropped her home, the conversation never stopped flowing. There was something healing about telling her everything. No secrets. Just breathing easier.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot at my building, it was just 5:30 in the afternoon. Emma wasn’t home yet—still at work.
But something immediately caught my attention.
Someone had parked in Emma’s designated spot.
It wasn’t her car. And it definitely wasn’t someone who belonged there.
Who the hell parks in a marked space?
I frowned, already getting annoyed. Where would Emma park when she came back? This wasn’t even about rules. It was about people being inconsiderate.
I headed toward the caretaker’s office, hoping he’d be there so I could complain. I knocked. Waited. Knocked again.
Nothing.
After five minutes, I gave up and trudged upstairs.
When I opened the front door, music greeted me—along with the sound of my mom’s voice singing along, horribly out of tune, from the kitchen.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” I asked, dropping my bag.
She turned toward me, eyebrows raised. “It’s my house too, you know.”
“Mom!!!” I groaned, grabbing her phone to stop the music.
“Your dad sent me home,” she finally said, frowning.
“Why?”
“He said I had a slight fever and needed to rest.” She rolled her eyes like that was the most absurd thing in the world.
I studied her face. Pale. Eyes a bit glassy. She didn’t look great.
“Mom, he’s right. You should be resting.”
“I’m fine—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I held up a finger. “Don’t argue. You look like crap.”
She snorted, then sighed as I gently led her to their bedroom. She tried to protest, but I ignored her. Eventually, she gave in.
I was fixing her blanket when she spoke again.
“Did you see Emma’s boyfriend?”
I froze. My hands stopped mid-fold.
“W-What?”
“She came home same time I did. With two guys. Introduced me to them. One was her brother. The other, she said, was a friend.”
I tried to breathe.
“And you assumed he was her boyfriend?”
“No,” my mom said slowly. “Her brother said he was.”
My knees felt weak.
I sat at the edge of the bed, trying to process.
“Honey?” my mom asked, eyes narrowing. “Are you alright?”
“I—yeah,” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.
I wasn’t alright. Not even close.
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