The next morning, I do four things.
First, I go for a long run.
Then I make some calls. The first is to Monique to let her know I’ve moved home. She sounds a little put off, but not too torn up about it; I suspect she’s going to miss the paycheck more than she’ll miss me. Then I call Bob and resume our training schedule. He actually woots when I tell him. I text Mary to fill her in, and she texts back a thumbs-up emoji. I think I’ll bring them both dark chocolate on Tuesday.
I call the juice stand too, and get my job back. Arielle’s making me start at the bottom of the seniority ladder again, but it’s better than nothing.
When the calls are done, I withdraw from the tournaments. It hurts my heart a little to do so—I was so close—but it’s the right thing. Mom did promise she’d take me to get a passport this week, though. And she’s going to renew her own too—she told me last night she’s never had a passport with the correct gender on it. But first she’s going to take that long-awaited final step and update her birth certificate.
Finally, I put on a T-shirt, my favorite leggings, and my bravest face, and get ready to go next door.
Mom’s in the kitchen, organizing the canned foods in the pantry. “Where are you off to?” she asks.
“I need to go see Sam.”
“Why do you look so nervous?”
I sigh. So much for the brave face. “Things between Sam and me have gotten … complicated.”
She tries to hide her smile. It doesn’t work.
“What? Don’t tell me you knew.”
“I suspected.”
I try not to blush. “Well, whatever you suspected, it’s probably over before it began. I think he went back to his ex.”
Mom tilts her head to the side. “I don’t know if he did or didn’t, but if you have feelings for him, you should let him know.”
I chew on my lip. “Yeah.” Wait. I don’t have to be the only one on the spot here. I straighten up. “I think you should consider dating too.”
She splutters.
“Seriously. Go online. Find people.”
“Dara!” she says with a laugh in her voice. Before she can say anything else, I duck out the door and cross the lawn.
The little blue house is filled with the aroma of Ramesh’s baking. He pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen. “Dara! Long time no see! Want a coconut cake? Fresh out of the oven!”
“No, thanks,” I say. “Maybe later.”
Niya comes down the hall and startles when she sees me.
“Hey,” I say, a little awkwardly.
“You’re back!” she says, surprised.
I nod. “I am.”
“Your mother must be very happy.” I wait, but it’s the only thing she says about Mellie. I know in that moment that Niya and Mom are going to be just fine.
“She is.” I smile, and head downstairs.
Sam is at his computer, as always. I lean against the doorframe and watch him, undetected, for a minute. How many times have I witnessed this exact scene? Sam so lost in his work that he doesn’t notice me at the door, his fingers moving rapidly across the track pad, his other hand propping up his chin, his hair in his face. And how did I never feel these butterflies fluttering around my belly? Why did I have to drive halfway across the country to realize that I’ve been living right next door to the perfect person for me?
“Hi,” I whisper.
He jumps so high I worry his chair is going to tip over. But he catches himself and stands up.
“What are you doing here?” he asks breathlessly.
“Oh, sorry, is now not a good time? Okay, see you later, bye.” I spin around and jokingly begin to leave.
His hand shoots out and catches my arm. “Don’t you dare.”
I turn back around. We’re much closer to each other now. He gazes down at me, his eyes searching. “So, does this mean you’re back?”
I nod.
“For good?”
I nod again.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks.
“Not right now. But I will.”
“Okay.”
“So, um …” I step back just a little. I have to ask. “What happened with Sarah?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing.”
Something small, hopeful, flickers in my chest. “Nothing?”
“I was going to go back to her. But I thought about it a lot on the ride home, and I realized that was just a reflex to things going south with you and me.”
“Oh.” The flickering goes flat, and I look away. I don’t know what to say. He was going to go back to her.
“Dara,” he says, taking a step forward and closing the distance I’d opened up. “My reasons for not being with her haven’t changed.”
I meet his eyes, and find there’s something there. I can’t name it, but it’s promising. This is all so new; I don’t know how to read him. I don’t know how to take control of this situation. What if I take a risk, and it ruins everything? What if I say the wrong thing, and he turns me down? Or what if he doesn’t turn me down, and our friendship is replaced with this far less familiar, far less confident thing? What will happen if things don’t work out down the line? Would that mean the end of us?
All these questions have me feeling more tied in knots than ever. But despite all the reasons to stop, I can’t. I’m on the court, and the ball’s been served. I have to hit it.
Plus, not all change is bad, right?
“You should know something,” I say.
“What?”
I take a step closer. “I didn’t spend the night with Matt.”
His breath catches. “You didn’t?”
“No. I slept on the couch.”
He searches me with his eyes. “Why?”
Another step. We’re inches apart now. I run my hands up his chest and grab a fistful of the material. “Because he wasn’t the guy.”
Sam’s chest rises as he takes a breath. I can feel his heart pounding. He’s nervous too. “And who might—”
I don’t let him finish. I use the shirt to pull him to me. Our mouths collide like they’re asteroids on the same trajectory, and the resulting explosion is all light and stars and fire.
The butterflies go crazy.
Sam wraps his arms around me, and lifts me a few inches off the ground. “Glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses,” he murmurs.
I laugh. “Me too.”
He sets me down and we kiss some more. I never want to leave his arms. Well, except to go kick ass on the tennis court. And try that new Amazonian yellow hot sauce Mom ordered from Brazil. But then I immediately want to come right back here. Or to his dorm room. Or wherever he happens to be at the moment.
I pull back just a little. “Question.”
“Yes?”
“How is this going to work? The long-distance thing, I mean.”
“We’ll figure out a way,” he says, sounding so certain.
“Yeah, but that’s the reason you broke up with Sarah. And you said all the reasons you ended things with her were still there.”
“Dara,” he whispers. “That wasn’t the only reason I broke up with her.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No.”
“What else is there? She’s pretty and smart and—”
“She wasn’t the girl.”
My heart melts into a giant puddle. It’s all he needs to say. I understand completely.
We start to kiss again. “Hey, Sam?”
“Hey, Dara.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming with me, for reading about transgender stuff, for having beers with me, for telling me when I was being stupid, for being right about so much …” I’m rambling now. “Basically, for all of it. I really think things are going to be okay between me and Mellie—maybe even better than before—and you played a big part in that.”
He smiles. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Well, it’s not quite done, but …” He turns his computer screen to face me. It’s the project he was working on when I came in. The picture is of us, at the bar in Virginia. My arm is around him and I’m kissing him on the cheek. It’s the selfie I took with his camera.
But what I didn’t notice at the time, all drunk and silly, was the way Sam was looking at me in that moment. Like a boy in love.
He’s tweaked the photo a bit to illustrate this very fact. Where the light catches the darkness of his eyes, tiny twinkling stars have been added.
“You made this for me?” I whisper.
I look up. He nods nervously.
“I love you too,” I say.
His whole face seems to be made of stars in that moment. He swoops down and kisses me again.
A couple weeks ago my entire life fell apart. Now I’m wondering how I could have possibly gotten so lucky.
“What do you think our moms are going to say about this?” Sam asks, laughing, his forehead to mine.
“About us?”
“Yeah.”
I grin. “I think they’re going to love it.”