Saul swings his door open and shouts, “Happy New Year!”
“Could you ask them to leave their shoes outside the door?” asks a voice from inside his apartment.
Saul rolls his eyes, but can’t stop himself from grinning. “You heard him.” He’s trimmed his facial hair and has traded his porn-star chic uniform of cutoff jorts and a tank top for fitted charcoal pants and a soft blue button-down shirt. He almost looks . . . like an adult. A hot adult with a job that doesn’t involve a margarita machine.
Freddie, Hattie, Tyler, Adam, and I all kick our shoes off and leave them on the mat to the side of the door, where Ruth’s sneakers already sit. As we file inside, Saul hands us New Year’s hats—feathered headbands for Hattie and me and plastic top hats for Freddie, Adam, and Tyler.
Saul reaches into the kitchen and yanks a short Latino boy with caramel eyes and a buzz cut away from the sink by his wrist. “Y’all, this is Reggie.”
Reggie nods at us once. “Rogelio, but I go by Reggie.” He has a faint accent and rolls his R when he says Rogelio. He shakes each of our hands. His fingers are callused like my dad’s, and he wears khaki pants and a black polo shirt. The two of them standing together look like a pair of gay dads.
“Reggie,” Saul says, “this is . . . y’all. Though I’ve never met you.” He points a finger in Adam’s direction.
Ruth steps out from the hallway with a feathered headband gathered in her fist. “Saul, this is Adam. The guy I was telling you about with the two moms. Be nice. Adam, this is my brother. If he makes you uncomfortable, he’s doing it on purpose.”
Saul winks at Adam.
“The guy with the two moms?” Adam asks. “Is that all I am to you now? No wonder I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Ruthie rolls her eyes but laughs, and I think I can feel a bond forming between them.
“I’ve heard a lot about each of you,” says Reggie.
Saul laughs. “And none of it was good.”
Hattie shoves him.
Reggie and Saul are the perfects hosts. They’ve set out plates of finger foods and cookies with little paper appetizer plates that say Happy New Year in gold. It’s almost easy to ignore Ruth scowling in the corner.
Saul has everyone gathered around their brand-new TV as he links it to the internet and shows videos of one of his former classmates, who has not so secretly posted videos of himself doing covers of pop songs.
“Isn’t this the guy who tried out for America’s Next Superstar?” asks Adam.
“Oh yeah,” says Ruth. “They put him through to Hollywood.”
“As a joke,” Saul adds. “I would honestly feel bad if the guy weren’t such a jerk.”
Ruth clicks her tongue. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Okay, you’re right.”
“We should do shots every time he touches his ear like he’s got one of those earpieces in it,” says Adam.
“I’m out,” says Ruth, plopping down on the couch.
Saul yanks a bottle of whiskey off the bar. “Oh, it’s on.”
While they pour themselves shots, I peruse the snack table with a beer dangling between my fingers.
“The legendary Ramona Blue.”
I turn to find Reggie. “Can’t say I don’t live up to the name,” I say, stroking my tousled locks.
Reggie leans up against the counter behind him and spreads his arms out on either side to brace himself.
I take a swig of beer. I’ve been sipping it for too long now; it’s warm and flat. “We were all a little nervous about you,” I admit.
Reggie looks up to me. His eyes have a shine to them that makes it hard to look away. It’s easy to understand what Saul sees. “I like that.”
“How so?” I ask.
“I love Saul.” He says it so simply. “And y’all do, too. If you’re suspicious of me, it’s probably because you’re protective of him. I’m in favor of anyone who’s in favor of his best interest.”
“I’ll buy that.”
He points to Ruth, sitting on the arm of the couch with her arms crossed. “Now, she flat-out doesn’t like me.”
I twist my lips together as I search for the right words. “I wouldn’t say that. Ruthie doesn’t like change.”
Reggie says nothing but nods along.
“You gotta understand,” I tell Reggie. “Saul challenges Ruth in a way that only he can get away with. He makes her braver and funnier. The two of them in that house together were like two pillars holding each other up. She keeps him accountable. She’s the reason he puts gas in his tank and pays his car insurance instead of investing in something ridiculous like a Dolly Parton pinball machine.” I sigh. It’s hard not to think of Hattie. “She’s not sure how to exist without him.” I’m not sure I’m even talking about Saul and Ruth anymore.
“She resents me then.”
I half smile. “You took her sunshine. Can you blame her?”
His shoulders slope.
I hear Freddie’s deep laugh behind us. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “She’ll find her own soon enough.”
I watch Ruth for a moment as she tries not to laugh at some story Adam is telling her. For so long I believed I was the only person who truly knew what it felt like to be left. But maybe it’s not just standing still that gets you left behind. You can be going places and still find yourself abandoned in some way.
The rest of the night is spent playing games and telling horrible jokes. Freddie and I don’t even hang out much, but I can feel my body rotating around him like we’re two magnets. Saul is the DJ and plays all his favorite obnoxious dance music.
I can taste the excitement in the air as we draw closer to midnight, despite Hattie dozing off on the couch. With a minute to go, Saul runs around making sure we each have noisemakers.
We all turn to the TV for the last of the countdown. “Five!” we shout as the Times Square ball on the television begins to drop.
“Two hundred and nine!” shouts Adam with a near-empty bottle of whiskey in his fist.
Freddie pelts him in the head with a throw pillow, but he doesn’t relent.
“Two hundred and ten!”
The rest of us shout over him to finish the countdown. “Four, three, two, one!”
“Happy New Year!” I yell, and blow into my noisemaker.
Tyler pulls Hattie in for a kiss, and Saul gives Ruth a kiss on the cheek before Reggie twirls him away and dips him, planting a kiss right on the lips. Adam looks to Ruth and the two high-five.
I turn to Freddie and I can’t help but see Christmas Eve play out all over again, when I told my mom we were just friends. Running my fingers over my wrist, I fiddle with the evil-eye bracelet he gave me.
Then I step forward and slide my hands up both his arms. I can feel goose bumps forming as I do. Freddie’s eyes are wide but steady on my every movement.
I take another small step forward and I kiss him. I kiss Freddie in a room full of all the people I love most. It’s my way of telling him he’s not a secret. He is not a phase.
Freddie kisses me back, one hand sinking into my hair and the other wrapping around my waist and up my spine as his lips softly melt into mine. For a moment, my body melts against his, and it’s easy to ignore the deafening silence around us.