Both Jamie and Sophia perk up, waiting for me to continue. I decide to blurt out the words like I did with the earlier news.
“I’m buying a theatre.” Sophia gasps, and Jamie’s mouth falls open. I start to ramble, “I went to visit it last week — you remember the Remington? Anyway, it’s definitely run downand will needmajorlove and renovations, but the owners are dying to get it off their hands, and well, I’ve been wanting to invest in something since I got the inheritance from my grandparents, and so I made an offer, and they accepted.”
I stop talking, taking a deep breath in while my eyes flit back and forth from Sophia to Jamie, who both look dumbstruck.
“Well?” I press. I don’t miss the small tremble of nerves in my voice. “Do you guys think it’s a good idea?”
I’ve addressed the two of them, but we all know I’m asking Jamie specifically.
Her smile turns watery, her eyes shining with a fresh batch of tears. “I love it.”
“I can’t believeyou’re moving back,” Sophia whispers to me.
After all the guests had left for the night, Sophia tried to convince me, Charlie, and Huxley into a slumber party in the living room. We all agreed, except for the obvious curmudgeon, who barked his displeasure and disappeared upstairs into his old room.
I turn to face Sophia, both of us lying on a makeshift mattress on the floor while Charlie is muttering in his sleep on the couch.
“I know …” I say thoughtfully, watching the shadows dance on the side of her face. “Are you happy about it?”
Her blues widen in delight, twinkling like the Christmas tree behind her as she smiles and nods. “We’ve never lived in the same city since we met.”
Something about the innocence in her expression makes my heart ache, as if suddenly seeing the child she was when we met … and all the hardships she’s been through before and after.
I bring my hand to her face and tuck the blonde hairbehind her ear as I return her smile. Melancholy smarts in my chest. “You know I love you, right?”
Sophia chuffs quietly as she watches me, the covers pulled up to her chin. “Feeling mushy?”
I snort and nod. “Something like that.”
We fall into comfortable silence, simply looking back at each other for a beat. “Goodnight, cutie,” I finally whisper.
“Okay, weirdo,” she whispers back with a grin before turning around and settling into her pillow.
14
HUXLEY
Standing on Ozzy’s small porch, I stare at the muddy grass peeking through the melting snow as I take a large drag of my cigarette. The temperature has stayed mild throughout the holidays.
It’s the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, and I’m the only one up.
I couldn’t sleep.
Thinking about life and all the things I’ve missed over the years.
It’s my second holiday season since I’ve been out, and I still feel like an outsider. It’s as ifex-conis written on my forehead wherever I go. Nothing but a loser who threw his life away and got arrested for stealing a car at seventeen.
I was wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling for so long that the walls started closing in on me, my skin suddenly feeling too tight and suffocating. I needed to take in some fresh air before I spiraled deeper into my ruminating thoughts.
Ozzy says thoseepisodesare probably panic attacks. I’ll add it to the list of reasons he keeps harping on about therapy. Nothing a hit of nicotine through the bloodstream can’t solve.
The front door opens, and my heart flips when Connieappears. She’s halfway out when she realizes I’m standing there.
“Oh,” she puffs out quietly.
Her red hair is sleep-mussed, and she’s wearing one of James’ long, puffy coats with too-big winter boots. The coat is unzipped, and she clutches at it against the cold, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“I didn’t realize anybody was up,” she adds.
