Everyone was at the courthouse. I had no clue they were coming. Not only were Mr and Mrs Landon there, but Spencer and Andrew too. I almost cried when Jordan, Skylar, George, and Ajit turned up. And poor Tyler arrived alone, looking no better than me. He was pale and it appeared like he’d barely slept either. He came with no support, which made me pull him in for a hug, and I kept him close with us while we waited to be let in. He could be part of my family for as long as he needed.

And so we waited. And waited some more. Then a guy came out, called some case numbers, and Mrs Landon stood up. She nodded to Tyler and me. “This is us.” I stood up and took a shaky breath. She looked Tyler and me in the eye and said, “Keep your chins up, and if that son of a bitch looks at you, stare right back at him.” She turned and walked in first, with a fierce determination that I envied.

Peter slid his hand into mine and gave me an encouraging smile. “We got this,” he said softly. “Remember, whatever happens…”

I nodded and walked inside.

I sat in the third row with Peter on my right, Tyler on my left. The Landons and Spencer and Andrew sat next to Peter. My roommates sat behind us. Serena Hernandez was there; she gave me a smile and a nod. There were other people there, some uniformed police officers as well, and the court officials were calling out numbers while the judge wrote things down, and for a long while, I had no clue what was going on.

I’d never even watched those law shows on TV, let alone been in an actual courtroom. But there were two tables in the front for counsel, and there were three people sitting at the table on our side. A man and two women, all lawyer-looking. They had files and notepads in front of them, scribbling notes and checking their phones.

Other people filed into the room, people I’d never seen before, and sat at the back of the room. I wondered who they were or whose case they’d come to sit in on, whose side they were on… My stomach was in knots; my knee was bouncing.

Then two men in suits filed in, lawyers obviously, followed by Lance, and another lawyer came in behind them.

I spun around to look at the front of the room, feeling the blood drain from my face. I didn’t need to say a word. My death-grip on Peter’s hand told him enough. Tyler let out a disgusted sound, and I, very simply, froze.

The three lawyers and Lance took their seats at the other table, and I finally got a good look at Lance. It had been almost a year since I’d seen him. A year since I’d walked out of his apartment clutching hopelessly at the threads that remained of my life.

He looked… smaller… than I remembered.

He looked tired. His skin was pallid; the dark circles under his eyes made him look ill. His hair was longer than he kept it when I’d known him, slicked back and unwashed. His suit was crinkled and crushed. He looked awful.

Like, really awful.

It made me smile.

It was then I noticed Peter’s grip on my hand was becoming a vise. I shot him a quick look, but his glare was aimed directly at Lance. Peter’s jaw was bulging, ticking, and his eyes were like glass.

I opened my mouth to speak to him, but the judge started proceedings. She cited case numbers and spoke as though she was terribly bored, then looked at Lance’s lawyers expectantly. The first lawyer stood up. “Permission to approach the bench.”

The judge gave it, and the first lawyer from our side went to the judge’s bench with Lance’s lawyer. They discussed something inaudible to the rest of us, then she announced a special meeting in her chambers, and the two lead counselors and the judge disappeared through a door to the side.

I leaned past Peter to speak to Mrs Landon. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “They’re either asking for more time, or he’s taking a deal.”

I leaned back in my seat just as Lance turned around to look at us. It was just a quick glance, but he saw us. Tyler, me, and Peter, all staring back at him. I could feel the anger rolling off Peter, and the look on his face did little to hide his loathing.

Lance spun back around and sank a little lower in his seat.

Tyler nudged me with his elbow and gave me a smirk. “Did you see that?” he whispered. “Low-life fuck can’t even look at us.” His eyes shot to Peter, then back to me. “Well, your man might’ve had something to do with that. I’d probably crap myself too if he looked at me like that.”

He was right. Peter was vibrating with anger, and the saying “if looks could kill” rang true. “Hey,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Hey.”

Peter blinked, then looked at me. His eyes took a moment to focus. “Sorry.”

Just then, the side door opened and the judge walked in first, followed by the two lawyers. Everyone took their seats, and a silence fell over the room. The judge, with her unimpressed, no-nonsense expression, said, “The state of California versus Mr Lance Nader. Mr Nader―” She looked up then and glared. “Stand when I’m talking to you.”

Lance shot to his feet and Tyler snorted.

The judge glared at Lance, not even trying to hide her disdain. “You’re pleading guilty to two charges of aggravated assault and two charges of felony sexual battery.”

Lance’s voice was weak at best. “Yes, your honor.”

There was a lot of back and forth, and the judge spieled a lot of legal jargon that I couldn’t quite follow… because I was stuck on one word.

Guilty.

He was guilty.

Tyler grabbed my hand and squeezed, and Peter put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close.

He was guilty.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I didn’t even try to stop them. Tears of anguish, of pain, humiliation, shame, and loss rolled down my cheeks. My final grief for all that he took. I somehow knew in my heart that I’d never cry because of him again. That was it. The very last time. It was over.

He was guilty.

The judge handed down her final words in a blur. I heard her say he was to serve twelve months in a minimum-security facility, and I didn’t even care that he only pled guilty to get a lighter sentence in a nicer prison.

He was guilty.

And he was going away for his crimes. He deserved to.

We all stood, and as the uniformed men took Lance away, the last thing Lance would have seen was me hugging Tyler and then being engulfed by Peter in a crushing embrace. It was the icing on the cake for me. That Lance would see me truly happy, thriving even. Tyler too. And Tyler and me standing side by side was poetic justice. But I knew what would have bothered Lance the most was that I was in the arms of a man who wore a more expensive suit than him.

We walked out into the LA sunshine and everyone hugged again. Mrs Landon had glassy eyes. Mr Landon beamed. “Let’s have a celebratory lunch! All of us,” he said including my roommates and Tyler of course. “My treat!”

I put my hand on Tyler’s arm, who was standing with Spencer and Andrew, and interrupted. “Will you join us for lunch? Please?”

He nodded, so I went to my roommates next. Jordan gave me a teary smile. “I’m really proud of you. I know how nervous you were.”

“It’s like the perfect outcome,” I said. “I’m happy with what he got.”

“Guilty,” George said. His black-painted lips quirked upwards.

I nodded again. “Yep. And I hope his cellmate is the creepy guy who has headless dolls lined up on his bed.”

Skylar laughed. “We can live in hope.”

“Thank you all for being here today. It really means a lot. Please say you’ll come for lunch,” I said, looking at all of them.

They agreed and started to follow the Landons. Mrs Landon had her arm around Tyler, Mr Landon was walking between Andrew and Spencer with his arms on their shoulders, telling them both that “Grace” was the best Jeff Buckley song after “Hallelujah,” and that left me and Peter.

He stood there, watching me with a look on his face that I couldn’t quite name. Happy? Proud? Pained? “Hey you,” I said softly.

“Hey.” He frowned.

I took his hand. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry for how I behaved in there.”

I was confused. “What do you mean? You were perfect,” I said. He huffed, clearly pissed at himself. “Peter, what’s wrong?”

“I wanted to jump the balustrade in that courtroom and beat the ever-living life out of that piece of shit. I swear, if you hadn’t been holding my hand, I think I might have. Only twice in my life have I ever wanted to inflict pain on another person.” His whole face crumpled. “Once, when I beat the crap out of my old man when I was seventeen. And today. God, Yanni, I wanted to hurt him so bad.” His chest was heaving and he rolled his shoulders like he couldn’t contain his emotions. “I swore to protect you and to never hurt you,” he said sadly. “And I would never, ever, raise my fist at you. But I wanted to inflict a world of pain onto that slimy shitbag.”

“So?”

“Don’t you see? That makes me no better than him.”

I threw my arms around his waist and clung to him. “You’re nothing like him. You’re so much more a better man than he could ever be. Please don’t ever compare yourself to him.”

He tentatively put his hand on my back, then his other, and eventually he melted into me. “You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“You don’t think an act of violence is the same as another?”

I pulled back to look at him. “He did what he did to me for the power and the control. If you did hit him, which you didn’t, by the way, so this is completely hypothetical, it would be out of vengeance.” I shook my head. “You have nothing to be worried about, Peter. You are the gentlest, most loving man I know.” Then I broke out in a grin. “And that slimy shitbag, as you called him, admitted his guilt and is going away. I feel, I don’t know… free.”

He cupped my face and kissed me. “You are a remarkable man, Yanni.”

I smirked up at him and gave him a wink. “Don’t you mean ‘boy’?”

He finally smiled, just as Mr Landon called out to us. He was at the corner of the block. “Hey, are you two coming or not?”

Grinning, I took Peter by the hand and dragged him forward. “Come on. Can’t wait all day. I’ve got a life to live.”

* * *

Everyone had told me I’d come so far. Mr and Mrs Landon, Patrice, Peter. They all kept saying I had more than turned a corner; I’d practically moved ahead in leaps and bounds. But it wasn’t until three weeks later that I realized just how far I’d come. It was just like any other Wednesday. I’d walked into school just before class to a scene that made my blood boil.

Christopher was upset, holding his mop in his hand, trying not to cry. “What’s wrong?” I asked him quietly.

He wouldn’t speak at first, so I looked around the foyer. His Caution Wet Floor sign was lying down and there was a group of first-years standing off near the corridor. They had their backs to me, but one looked over like he was trying not to watch. He said something, and one of the guys with his back to me laughed.

“Did they knock your sign over?” I asked Christopher, gently putting my hands on his arms.

He nodded sadly. “Him in the red shirt. Took my mop.”

And that was it. Me, meek little Yanni Tomaras, who never speaks up, who runs from confrontation of any kind, saw red. Literally.

“Hey, you,” I yelled at the group of guys. “Asshole in the red shirt.”

The whole group turned to look at me. Red shirt asshole smirked. “You talking to me?”

“You’re the only asshole in a red shirt, so yeah.” A quick dash of What the hell are you doing? raced through me, but my anger was louder than my fear. “Does picking on someone who won’t fight back make you feel bigger? Need to feel like a man by ridiculing someone smaller than you?”

He tried to laugh it off. “It was just a joke, man. Lighten up.”

“A joke?” I spat back at him. I pointed to Christopher. “Is he laughing?” I looked at red-shirt’s friends. “Do you find it funny? Or do you just laugh along because you’re too spineless to stand up to him?”

Not one of them answered.

Other people had come in now, and we had an audience. I looked back at red-shirt asshole. “Pick the sign up.”

He scoffed. “What?”

“Pick it up. Now.”

He looked around at the people watching on. “No way, man.”

I glared and took a step toward him. “Pick it up now, and apologize to Christopher.”

He stood there for a second or two and finally rolled his eyes. Like a spoiled brat, he righted the sign and stared at Christopher. He mumbled something that sounded like an apology, and that just pissed me off some more.

I turned to Christopher. “May I borrow your mop, please?”

He handed it to me, and I walked over to stand in front of red-shirt asshole and held the mop out for him. “Now finish mopping the floor.”

“What the…? No fucking way,” he said like the idea offended him.

“You’re a bully, and everyone knows bullies are just cowards with self-esteem issues. So be a man,” I said, holding his gaze, shoving the mop at him. “And finish mopping the floor.”

He looked at me like I was shit on his shoe, but I didn’t care. He sneered at me. “Who’s gonna make me? You?”

“I am,” a loud, stern voice boomed over the foyer. Mr Landon stood there in the crowd watching. “Take the mop, Fitzgerald. Finish mopping the floor. And if you want to keep your place here, you’ll be here at seven o’clock tomorrow morning to help Christopher clean the bathrooms.” Mr Landon stared at him, arms crossed, unblinking. “Do you have a problem with that?”

A pale Fitzgerald took the mop and mumbled something unintelligible. Mr Landon spoke up for everyone to hear. “No one in this institute is less than anyone else. Christopher’s job here is no less important than mine. If anyone here thinks they’re better or more valuable than the person standing next to them, you’re not welcome here. Am I clear?”

A brief round of applause went around the audience, Fitzgerald grumbled as he did a poor job at mopping the floor, and everyone dispersed.

Christopher stood with his arms folded and watched Fitzgerald like a hawk, and Mr Landon clapped his hand on my shoulder.

I stared at him. The adrenaline was wearing off and my hands began to shake. “What did I just do?” I whispered.

“Come with me,” Mr Landon said. He gave a smile to Christopher and said, “Tell me what kind of job he does, won’t you, son?”

Christopher nodded seriously. “Yes.”

“When you’re done, Fitzgerald. My office,” Mr Landon called out over his shoulder as he walked down the hall. I went with him, feeling suddenly nauseous.

He closed his office door behind us. “God, I feel sick,” I said, with my hand on my stomach. “I just did that.” I motioned to the door. “Out there, I just did that.”

Mr Landon put both hands on my shoulders. “You okay?”

My eyes burned with tears and my stomach twisted. “I just almost had a fight. Oh God.” I breathed in and out a few times. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and it wasn’t my place to speak up, but Christopher was upset―”

“Yanni,” he interrupted. “You did the right thing. Actually, what you did just now was more than the right thing. You saw an injustice and you acted. It was brave.”

I held out my hands. They were still shaking. “I’ve never done that before.”

Mr Landon was practically beaming. “Yanni, I’m so proud of you right now.”

“You are?” I thought he might be mad…

“Hell, yes. The Yanni I met all those months ago would have never stood up to a bully, but look at you now!”

I was all jittery, like the adrenaline had left some kind of residual energy in its wake. I let out a laugh. He was right. I wouldn’t have before, but I was different now. Everything I’d been through had made me stronger, more resilient. And a whole lot less tolerant of other people’s crap.

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” I said. “That guy was a real jerk.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. You better get to class.” Then, just as he was leaving, he said, “Oh, Helen wanted me to ask if you’re still coming for dinner tonight?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Peter too?”

“Yeah, he’s picking me up from Patrice’s office.” Peter was picking me up because Mr Landon had something else going on this afternoon and had asked me to make other arrangements.

He just smiled. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”

There was a quiet knock on his door, and I opened the door to leave. Fitzgerald was standing there, looking a mix of fuming and scared. I huffed at him as I walked past, and all I heard was Mr Landon say, “Close the door and take a seat,” to him as I headed to class.

I didn’t think any more about why Mrs Landon had asked if I was coming for dinner until we walked into their kitchen and there was a cake on the kitchen counter with a bunch of candles. Mr and Mrs Landon were there, with Spencer, Andrew, and Sarah, all standing around before they broke out into a very theatrical rendition of Happy Birthday.

Peter shot me a horrified look. “It’s not your birthday?”

To be honest, I hadn’t given my birthday a thought. “Not until Saturday.”

They finished singing, and Mrs Landon told me to make a wish before blowing out the candles. I closed my eyes and blew them out. “What did you wish for?” Sarah asked.

“He’s not supposed to tell or it won’t come true,” Andrew said, squinting at his sister.

“I didn’t wish for anything,” I said. “I have everything I need, so I just kind of sent out a thanks to the universe instead.”

“Oh.” Mrs Landon burst into tears. Everyone stared at her. “Ignore me,” she said, mumbling about stupid hormones. Mr Landon gave her a hug and told Spencer to hurry and serve her some cake.

Peter gave me a kiss to the temple. “I thought for a minute I’d missed your birthday.”

“No, we’re early because Wednesdays are our day, and I thought it’d be better early than late,” Mrs Landon said, dabbing a napkin to her eyes. “Yanni, I heard you had a moment before class this morning.”

I shot Mr Landon a look. “Oh, yeah. That.”

“What happened?” Peter asked.

So we ate cake and I told them what had happened with Christopher and then we ate a dinner of Greek takeout, in my honor, of course. It was quite possibly the best early-birthday dinner I’d ever had.

I wasn’t kidding earlier when I’d said that I had everything I needed instead of making a wish. Not material possessions, of course. I didn’t have much in that regard, but I had people who loved me, my family of choice, and that made me pretty damn rich.

When dinner was all cleared away and Andrew and Sarah were arguing over a game of charades, Mrs Landon pulled Peter and me aside. She sat us down in the living room and looked hard at me. “Yanni, I want to ask you something.”

That sounded ominous. I frowned. “Okay.”

“You’re doing so well,” she said. “We’re all very proud of you.”

That wasn’t a question, but I nodded slowly. “Thanks. Patrice thinks so too.”

“Well, about that…” She hedged. “We’re very busy at the Acacia Foundation, as you know. And we’ve had a case come in that’s similar to yours, but maybe closer to Jordan’s.”

My heart sank. “Oh. Are they okay?”

She smiled sadly. “He will be. He’s quite young, not even eighteen. But we need a place for him to stay. We’re so overwhelmed at the moment, and your house would be ideal, and I’d really like him to spend time with Jordan. I think she could help him heal, and she’d benefit from helping someone.”

“Okay.” I thought about what she was saying…

Mrs Landon paused, then said, “Placement housing is never meant to be permanent, as you know. Now, George has been there for sixteen months―”

“He can’t leave,” I said, cutting her off. “He’s just getting on track with Ajit’s family. They’ve worked really hard at proving they’re committed, and if he had to move and couldn’t find somewhere close, well, Ajit’s mother might think he’s being unreliable, and I’d hate for that to happen. And you can’t split Skylar and Jordan up. I don’t know if this is against the rules, and if it is, just pretend I didn’t say anything, but they’ve become close. Like really close, if you know what I mean. Jordan trusts her and Skylar’s good for Jordan. They’re like, just starting out, ya know? It’s new but it’s a beautiful thing. You can’t break them up. It’d kill Jordan.”

Mrs Landon gave me a knowing look and frowned.

“Me.” I nodded. “I can move out. I have money saved. And I’m ready. I really am. Patrice is super happy with where I’m at.” It was daunting as hell and a whole world of the unknown, but I could handle it. I had no doubt.

“You could move in with me?” Peter said. The hope in his voice made it a question.

I stared at him. “What?”

He licked his lips. “I know your independence is important, and I don’t want to take anything away from you.” He looked directly at Mrs Landon. “If that’s not a good idea for him in any way, please just say. I don’t want to overstep, but I just thought…”

She smiled. “I thought you might say that.”

Now I stared at her. “Pardon?”

She cringed. “Well, you’re so in love, and I know you’re a perfect fit for each other. Yanni, I would never suggest it if I didn’t think it was right for you.” She gave me her serious-mom eyes. “I only want what’s best for you, you know that, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know that.”

“And I wouldn’t even suggest you move out at all if I didn’t think you were ready. But I’ve seen you grow so much. Over the last twelve months, you’ve really become the man you were supposed to be.” She sighed. “And you’ve always said Peter makes you feel safe.”

I gave Peter a shrug. “True.”

“And I just want you to be safe,” Mrs Landon said. “It’s all a mother ever wants for her kids. I just want you to be happy and safe. I do think of you as one of my kids, Yanni. You know we love you very much. Which is why I’m also offering you your old room here as well, as an alternative. It’s your choice.”

Well, that was a loaded speech. I didn’t know where to start with a response. “Move back in here with you?”

“You’ll always be welcome here.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I love you both as well, in case you didn’t already know. You’re like the parents I should have had.”

Her face softened. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“How long have I got?” I asked. “When does this guy need to move in?”

“Well, ideally, as soon as possible. Three or four weeks at the latest.”

My head was spinning. “He can have my room. As for my decision about what I’ll do, can I let you know in a few days?”

“Of course,” she said. She stood up, so I did too and gave her a hug. When she pulled away, she patted my arm and looked at each of us in turn. “I’ll leave you to talk. After that bombshell, I’m sure you have much to discuss.”

When we were alone, I fell back onto the sofa with a plop. “Well, I think bombshell is an understatement.”

Peter chuckled and took my hand. “I meant what I said. I’d love nothing more than to offer my home to you. But I’d prefer if we asked Patrice first.” He ran his free hand over his jaw. “Maybe we could organize a joint visit, where we both see her together, and she can tell us if it’s too soon. I don’t want to rush you. If it’s not the right time, then it’s not the right time. And if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. I won’t mind, I promise. I just want you to know it’s an option. You could have the spare room if you think we’d need some space…”

“Then I’d have to call your cell for you to talk to me at night when you’re in the room next to mine. That wouldn’t make much sense.”

He chuckled. “True. But still, I wouldn’t mind.”

I sighed. “I have so much to think about.” I hardly knew where to start. I squeezed his hand and looked him square in the eye. “It’s not a no. I just need time to think about it. And thank you for the offer. I really do appreciate it.”

He kissed me softly. “Anytime. Whenever you’re ready. The offer will always stand.”

We went back into the kitchen where, thankfully, charades were over. “Coffee?” Mr Landon asked.

“No thanks,” I said. “We’re gonna head off. Thank you for a wonderful early-birthday dinner. It means a lot.”

I hugged Mrs Landon extra hard and told her I loved her before I climbed into Peter’s car. It was a quiet drive home. My mind was still spinning, and I wondered how my roommates would take the news of me moving out and where I’d end up living. And with whom.

When Peter pulled the car up to my place, I kissed him goodnight. “Call me when you get home,” I said, just like always.

“Of course.” His eyes were warm and full of love, and I almost told him to take me back to his place. But I didn’t.

I needed space and time to think clearly and rationally.

Which lasted all of twenty minutes. I was in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling, wondering what the hell I was going to do, when my phone rang. Peter’s name flashed up on screen, and I felt a familiar warmth bloom in my chest as soon as he spoke. “Hey.”

“Trip home okay?”

“Very uneventful.”

“Good.”

“So, interesting evening, huh?”

I let out a laugh. “You could say that.”

He never pressured me. In fact, he never mentioned it again. At the Landons’, he’d told me the offer would always be open, and he gave me the thinking room I’d asked for.

But his voice didn’t lull me to sleep like it normally did. My mind was too wired, and when I was antsy like this, there was only one way I could sleep. And that was in his arms.

It dawned on me, slowly at first, then all at once, that he was my home.

How many times had I crawled into his lap and thought home? How many times had he held me and everything wrong in my world was right?

How stupid was I?

I shot out of bed, flipped on the light, and pulled on my jeans. “Yanni, what are you doing?” Peter asked down the phone.

“Something I should have done an hour ago.”

“Uh…”

“I know it’s late, but don’t go to sleep just yet.” I pulled on my sweater. “I’m on my way.”

“You’re what?”

I laughed and ended the call, pulled on my shoes, and grabbed my backpack. As a last-minute thought, I picked up the purple orchid flower he’d given me and raced downstairs. I booked an Uber, and before I knew it, I was on my way to Peter’s place. At midnight. Holding a potted plant. More excited than I’d ever been.

I didn’t even have to knock. He opened the front door when I was still getting out of the car, with a worried, puzzled look on his face. He looked at the orchid, then at me. “Yanni, what are you doing?”

“It’s your housewarming gift,” I said. “I mean, you gave it to me as a housewarming gift, and so now I’m bringing it here. For my housewarming gift. God, it made better sense in my head.”

He laughed, though still confused. “What are you saying, Yanni?”

“I’m bringing the orchid here because I want to live here. With you.”

He broke out in a grin. “Did you want to run it past Patrice first?”

“No. It’s my birthday in three days. I spent my last birthday black and blue, alone and homeless. I want to spend my next one with the man who taught me what home really is.”

“Oh, Yanni.” His eyes were so full of love. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes. I know what I want, and I know what’s right for me. I was stupid really, not to agree sooner. But I was lying in bed wishing to God I was here with you like I do every single night. And I’m here three nights a week anyway, and I spend the other four nights wishing I was or wishing you were at my place, and it makes sense, yeah? It feels right? We’ll have to work out the money side of things because I want to pay rent, which I know you’ll object to, but I’m putting my foot down with that. And I know you offered me the spare room, but I think that’d be a waste of time―”

He grabbed my face and crushed his lips to mine in a smiling kiss.

“You’re squashing my orchid,” I mumbled against his lips.

He laughed, took the plant, and placed it on the dining table, then took my hand and led me to his room. Our room. I dumped my backpack, kicked off my shoes, and stripped down to my briefs. I climbed into bed, and he pulled me into his arms, wrapping me up safe and warm. With my face buried in his neck, I sighed contentedly.

I was, without a doubt, home.