“Dev is here!”

“Well, if he doesn’t have green bean casserole in his hands, tell him to go back home before showing his face in here.”

“What? I thought I was supposed to bring the green bean casserole?”

“You? No! You were in charge of the mashed potatoes. Don’t tell me you didn’t bring the mashed potatoes?”

“Wait, you wanted mashed potatoes with Thanksgiving dinner? How strange, Mom.”

“Natalie!”

“I’m kidding, Mom, I have the mashed potatoes.”

The din of the family conversation greeted me as soon as I entered the house, but when I poked my head into the kitchen, they finally started talking to me instead of just talking about me.

“There’s my extremely late older brother,” Natalie said, putting a big plate onto the kitchen counter and tackling me in a hug.

“Watch out, Nat, these mashed potatoes I’m holding are hot,” I said, grinning and glancing at my mom, who was in front of the sink, decked out in an apron and with her hair in a messy bun.

“Devin Crawford, I will respectfully kick you out of this house if you tell me I have two trays of mashed potatoes and you didn’t bring me green bean casserole. That casserole is what I live for, every year! How will I get on without my favorite fake-healthy dish at Thanksgiving?”

“Mom, we’re messing with you. I’ve got the green bean casserole. Relax, already.”

“You two have it in for me. Where’s your brother? He promised he was wrangling the chickens into the coop outside. Your father is upstairs changing into respectable clothes, which I’m realizing I need to do as well. Will you stir that soup on the stove, Dev?”

I set down the large tray of casserole I’d brought and stepped over to hug my mom. “Go upstairs and do what you need to do. I’ve got the soup.”

She squeezed me, and the scent of the floral perfume she’d always worn filled the air around me.

It felt like home, as chaotic as it was.

“So how’s life, Natalie?” I said. It had been too long since I’d seen my younger sister. I took a big wooden spoon and stirred the soup, and the rich aroma of squash and spices filled the air.

“Same as usual,” she said. When I turned, she was sitting at the kitchen table, cell phone in her hands, looking down at it.

“Is Facebook more interesting than your older brother?” I said.

She laughed. “You’re starting to sound like Mom. I’m on Snapchat, not Facebook. How does it feel being an old man, Devin?”

“I resent that accusation,” I said. “Just because I want to actually talk to my younger sister doesn’t mean I’m elderly.”

She plopped the phone down onto the table. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Life is good. Senior year of college is scary as hell, but what else is new,” she said.

“I know. You’re going to be just fine, though, Nat. I think we can officially say you are the first food scientist in the family.”

She grinned. “Yeah, because I’m not sure food science even existed until this century,” she said. “Or back then, it was just called chemistry.”

“Well, I’m sure companies are going to be clamoring for you to work for them.”

Natalie was a senior at a science and technology college about an hour away from Rose Falls. We’d often joked that she was the only person in our family without any interest in the arts, whatsoever. In truth, though, Natalie was very creative—she just preferred using that creativity in a science lab rather than in the fine arts.

She sighed, standing up and with a clean spoon, taking a taste of the soup. Her long dark hair had a vivid pink streak in it, catching the light and shining. “I sure hope so,” she said.

“I’m jealous of your hair. You should put a streak in mine,” I said. “I’d want a nice emerald green, though.”

“Your students would make so much fun of you if you showed up in class with a huge green streak in your hair.”

“You think so? I think they’d find me cool. Well, even cooler than I already am.”

“Trust me, your students probably do not think you’re cool.”

“I want to argue with you… but you’re probably right.”

She leaned against the counter, facing me. “Emmett told me Russ came back,” she said, her tone casual. “I haven’t seen that guy since I was like, thirteen years old.”

“Oh,” I said, my voice low. “Yeah, he is back.”

“Sounds like you’re really excited about it,” she said, heavy sarcasm in her voice.

“Huh?” I said, glancing over at her. “I am. I mean, I was, when he came back. It was many weeks ago, now.”

“Right,” she said, her gaze lingering on me.

Just then the back door of the house swung open, and a moment later Emmett appeared at the edge of the kitchen.

“The gang’s all here, I see,” he said, coming over to inspect the soup. “Can I try some of that?”

“What is with you guys? You can’t wait, like, twenty minutes until we’re all sitting down to try the soup?”

He was already digging in with another clean spoon. “I’m performing quality control, Dev. Nice to see you, too.”

I grinned at him despite myself, and before long my dad came downstairs, followed by my mom.

“Bad news for everyone,” my dad said, entering the kitchen. “I couldn’t find my tie with all the pumpkins on it, so you’re subjected to my tie with a bunch of small birds on it. I hope you’ll find it in your hearts to forgive me.”

Natalie made a noise of mock shock, a sharp intake of breath. “Dad. How could you?”

“I know. It’s going to be hard for all of you to even look at me around the dinner table, but please join me in mourning the loss of the pumpkin tie.”

“I hope you’re all ready for some pumpkin soup,” I said, giving it a final stir and turning the heat to low. I crossed over and gave my dad a big hug. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Devin,” he said. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Too long.”

For the next hour, we feasted. There was only a brief panic, when my dad momentarily forgot if he had turned off the oven with the turkey inside, and we all waited hesitantly to see if it would be reduced to a pile of ashes in the oven.

As we opened it, though, it looked perfect, and I caught up with the various lives of my family as we ate.

Natalie was doing well in her senior year. Emmett was the same as always, but I talked to him enough to know how he was on a regular basis. My mom was getting more and more into gardening, while still continuing her online store where she sold sculptures. My dad had worked as an editorial photographer his whole life, often taking trips into New York City, and finally, he had reached a point where he was able to stay home in Rose Falls as often as he’d like to. He called himself “semi-retired,” knowing that he’d never want to give up his job in photography but also wanted to spend more time with family as he grew older.

It felt shockingly good, being around them. Over the past few weeks, I had developed a sort of void in my life—certainly mostly due to a lack of interaction with Russ—and Thanksgiving was the first time in a while I’d felt truly happy.

The only time I started to become uncomfortable was when they grilled me about my own life updates.

“Enough about us,” my dad said, turning toward me as we passed around dessert. “How are you doing, Devin?”

I took an extra-big slice of pecan pie. “Doing a whole lot better now that I’m about to have this slice of pie,” I said. “This is my favorite part of the holiday.”

“Devin’s trying to talk about food because he doesn’t want to talk about his life updates,” Natalie said, shooting me a challenging glance.

“Wow, Nat,” I said. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m just saying…” she said, shrugging her shoulders up in an exaggerated pose.

“My personal life is fine,” I said. I shoved a huge bite of pecan pie in my mouth, and as I chewed, I saw Natalie share a glance with Emmett, and then my mom.

“What?” I said, looking back and forth between them.

“Emmett said you’ve been going out less and acting strangely,” Natalie said.

I stared at Emmett. “Acting strangely? How do you mean?”

“Well, first of all, I definitely didn’t use those words. Not… exactly. But I did think it was a little strange that I’ve invited you out to get mulled wine at the bar, twice, and you refused it both times.”

“I was busy!” I protested.

“You never miss mulled wine for anything. I can specifically remember you begging me to go with you, every year for the past, oh… nine years? Ever since you could legally drink.”

I shook my head. “Not my fault I’ve been busy, though.”

“Has the school been piling responsibilities on you, Dev?” my mom asked.

“I mean… no, not exactly,” I said.

“What’s keeping you busy, then? Are you finally painting in your free time again? That is great, Devin, your talent shouldn’t be wasted—”

“A little,” I said, looking down at my plate. “I’m just busy, okay? Can we talk about something else?”

“Oh, I know why you’re busy. I almost forgot, Russ is back in town,” my mom said, waving a hand through the air. “That explains everything. Whenever Russ was around, Devin would disappear. Do you remember that, Howie?” she asked my dad. “One minute they were in the living room playing with toy trucks, the next they were halfway down the block making sculptures out of mud. Have you been spending a lot of time with him, honey?”

I shook my head, chewing a piece of pie. “No.”

“Well, how is Russ doing?” my mom asked.

“Fine, I guess,” I said. I knew I was being cagey, but it just wasn’t a line of questioning I wanted to go down.

“Is he dating? I know you said he was looking to meet guys in the area, and I know Rose Falls is probably a much better place for him to meet a nice man than San Diego. Too many surfers out there.”

“I think he is dating Shane, actually.”

“Oh, your old roommate Shane? Good for him!” my mom said.

“Wait a minute—did I miss something? Are we talking about the same Russ?” my sister said, lifting an eyebrow. “He dates guys?”

“He does now,” I said.

“That is awesome,” Natalie said.

“I was proud when your mother told me,” my dad said. “I hope his coming-out process is going as smoothly as it can.”

“I always thought the two of you acted more like boyfriends than friends,” Natalie said a placid smile on her face. “The way you were always together, how you’d always protect each other from stuff. It was honestly kind of adorable.”

“For God’s sake, Natalie—” I started.

“Why the hell is he dating other guys? He should just date you. You haven’t had a serious boyfriend in so long—”

“Natalie, let’s not forget how Russ left Rose Falls, almost without a trace, eight years ago,” my mom said. “That boy hurt Dev really bad. Not sure I’d trust someone like that with a relationship.”

I felt my heart rate increasing, and my jaw beginning to clench. My family was beginning to talk about me—about my love life—as if I wasn’t even there.

“Well, whatever,” Natalie said, taking out her phone. “I always thought you two would end up together, Dev.”

When she said it, I felt like a dam had broken inside me. “Well, it doesn’t fucking matter, since Russ won’t even talk to me, does it, Natalie?”

“Language, Devin!” my mom said. “This is Thanksgiving.”

“Wow,” Natalie said, slowly looking back up at me. “Touched a nerve, didn’t I?”

“You’re talking about things you don’t understand, Nat, so please, leave it alone. Mom, I’m sorry for the outburst, but can we please talk about something else?”

“We can talk about how delicious this pie is,” my dad said. “Who needs some more wine, by the way? Let’s open another bottle. I think it would do us all some good.”

My heart slammed in my chest, even after the topic of conversation changed to more inane neighborhood gossip. I hadn’t expected to react that way—I knew my family would be bound to bring up Russ at some point, but I hadn’t known how deeply it would affect me.

Because in truth, I had been trying to shove those feelings down, for the past many weeks since Russ had told me he wanted to take a break. It was too much to handle, wondering if I’d done something wrong, wondering if our friendship could ever be normal again.

I think what hurt me the most, though, was hearing Natalie’s words. Not because they were untrue, or because they were incendiary or misguided.

But because she had touched on a feeling I’d had my whole life.

I’d always wished and hoped and wanted so badly for it to be true.

I wanted to end up with Russ. When I was a kid it had seemed like a crazy fantasy—pining for my straight friend, hopelessly crushing on someone who I knew I would never have.

But when I had found out he was actually capable of being attracted to men, and then I’d had a taste of just how good it could be with Russ? My imagination had taken hold in ways that it should never have.

I’d always known that Russ had been an amazing friend to me growing up. But now I also knew how it felt to be held in his arms. I knew what his lips felt like, for God’s sake, what his cock felt like in my mouth. And above all, knew how it felt to be cradled in his arms as I drifted off to sleep, feeling like I belonged there and that I always had belonged there.

So when Natalie had casually said that she’d always thought we would end up together, it broke my brain, momentarily. She had hit a nerve, a tender spot, an area of my emotions that I hadn’t been allowing to roam free.

She had essentially pointed out one of my deepest, lifelong fears: that I’d never be able to meet any guy I could love as much as I loved Russ.

It was no wonder I was alone, I was commitment-phobic, I was so reluctant to date.

Because nobody else was Russ.

* * *

My parents’ backyard had barely changed at all since I’d grown up there. The only noticeable difference was that the treehouse was gone now—it had been my favorite place to hang out as a kid, up in the branches of a big, old tree. I’d collected leaves back then, too, pressing them between the pages of heavy books for safekeeping.

When I stepped back into the yard after Thanksgiving dinner, though, it felt different. Or maybe I just felt different. The air was bitingly cold against my skin, but it felt amazing after a long, heavy meal inside. I brought the hood of my jacket up over my head and stepped out into the grassy lawn, my feet crunching on what remained of the crisp, fallen leaves.

A minute after I’d come out, I heard the door open after me.

“Oh, thank God it’s you,” I said, turning to see Emmett. “If Nat came out here I think I’d have to jump the fence into the neighbors’ yard and run away.”

Emmett grinned, pulling on his jacket and coming to join me in the yard, under the tall trees. The low light from inside the house illuminated us, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the faint moonlight outside.

“I feel so exhausted,” I said, shaking my head.

“Me too. I know I normally eat a lot, but that was pushing it, even for me,” Emmett said.

“Not the food,” I said, waving a hand. “You know what I’m talking about.”

He nodded. “Nat didn’t mean to be provoking you. She often does mean to, but this time, I really think she was being sincere.”

I let out a long breath, digging the toe of my boot into the thick grass under my feet. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it,” I said. “I kind of freaked out.”

“Dev… I had no idea Russ wasn’t talking to you,” Emmett said, turning to meet my eyes. “Is it really that bad? You said the both of you had just been too busy to hang out.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know how else to put it,” I said. “Russ told me he wanted to take a break, and I think he might also be dating Shane. I don’t know how much more obvious it could get. I took the hint, you know?”

“I’m sorry, Devin,” Emmett said. “That is really, really rough.”

“It is. And now I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get my best friend back, and I can’t help but feeling like it’s all completely my fault. I drank too much, I made advances, I screwed up.”

“But Russ was into it… wasn’t he?”

I shrugged. “Even though he seemed into it at the time, he very clearly retreated from me afterward. I respect him way too much to force my friendship on him, you know?”

“Did you tell him how you feel about him, and he freaked out?”

I paused, watching as a sparrow flitted between two tree branches. “I certainly didn’t tell him the extent of it. I tried to play it cool because nobody wants a one-night stand who falls head over heels for them the next day.”

Emmett snorted. “You can call it what you want, but I don’t think it counts as a one-night stand if you’ve known someone your whole life. It would make sense that a hookup would stir some intense feelings.”

“Too intense,” I said.

“Well, if he isn’t sensitive to the fact that you have feelings, maybe he wouldn’t be a good friend to you, anyway,” Emmett said with a shrug. “I know it’s far easier said than done, but if you haven’t actually told him how you felt, maybe he’s just as terrified as you are.”

“Don’t do that,” I said, frowning.

“What?”

“Put false hopes in my head. If Russ wanted me, he’d say it. He wouldn’t cut off all contact after we had an intense night together.”

Emmett was silent, cocking his head to the side. “You know better than this, Devin. Russ did cut off all contact, for eight fucking years, and I’m willing to bet some of that was due to emotions he couldn’t process because he was in the closet.”

I groaned.

“What?” Emmett said.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I said, giving him a resigned look. “Last time you told me to go talk to him, we didn’t actually… talk. Instead, it was just awkward as hell, and when I tried to bring up the subject of the night of the party, he talked about something else.”

“And you didn’t bring it back up?”

“Of course not. Because that would be smart, and wise, and the right thing to do, and you know I didn’t do that.”

Emmett gave me a soft laugh. “Well, it’s not like you don’t still have an opportunity. You know where he lives. How hard would it be to go level with him? If he’s freaked out by your true feelings, I don’t think he could ever be a real friend to you. But either way, I think that’s the only way you’ll ever be able to live with yourself.”

“I live with myself just fine, thank you very much.”

“Really?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “I mean… we all saw you back there, Dev. All Natalie did was say she thought you guys would be cute together and you pretty much lost it.”

“Natalie likes stirring up drama.”

“Well, if there wasn’t anything to stir, she couldn’t have done it quite so easily.”

“Fine, fine, fine, you’re right,” I said. “I’ll… talk to him about it. Maybe tomorrow or something.”

“Don’t put things off. Why not go over tonight?”

“On Thanksgiving? Really? I know his parents always make a huge deal about the holiday, there’s no way he isn’t up visiting them.”

“Okay, but you need to actually do it tomorrow, then. Don’t avoid it.”

“Me? Avoid something? Never,” I said, as I felt a small grin finally appear on my face.

“What about you, Emmett?”

“What about me?”

“Your life. Do you have drama? Is there anything I can act high and mighty about with you?”

“Well, there certainly was some drama yesterday,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ll never believe what happened. Get this, Devin—when I went to the cabinet to reach for my coffee beans, there weren’t any there. It was a whole fiasco, involving me needing to put on a pair of pants, run a hand through my hair and actually go to the store to get more beans.”

“Wow. Total disaster, huh?” I said.

“Unmitigated chaos,” he said. “Hey. If I were you, I’d be happy you even have someone like Russ in your life. Compared to my love life, it’s practically a vibrant state of affairs.”

“Oh, really? You wish you had a best friend come back, have sex with you and then decide to stop talking to you?”

“Well… when you put it that way….”

“Exactly.”

“Talk to him, Devin.”

I groaned. “I will, I will. And thank you, Emmett. I’d be nowhere without your… incessant pestering.”

“It’s what brothers do,” he said with a shrug.

We headed back inside. For another couple of hours, we spent time with the family—after I’d talked to Emmett, it was actually relaxing, instead of completely tense like it had been during dessert.

It was nice, having the five of us all back together like this. It had been sometimes slightly chaotic growing up in my house, and even more difficult when I’d had to move back in after college, but I was incredibly lucky. I had loving parents and loving siblings.

The only thing that was missing—ironically—was Russ. He had always seemed like part of the family growing up, just by the sheer fact that he was always around. When I looked at the staircase, I pictured getting in trouble constantly for sliding down it with him. His face was on our family picture wall, in at least three photos, pictures of us in the backyard or at birthday parties as kids.

The fireplace even reminded me of him. He’d tried to climb up the chimney once—I think both of us knew that it was never going to happen, but we’d laughed and laughed as he struggled to get up. It was obviously far too small, but when he came out of it he was covered in soot. When my mom had walked in she had tried so hard to be angry, only to break and start laughing as much as we had been.

If he were here right now, he’d be laughing along with us, too. I wondered if his favorite chair would still be the big plush blue one in the corner, or if now, he’d sit next to me.

At that point, my brain began to go slightly haywire. I was drunk on laughter, food, and coziness, and when a light snow began to fall outside, it was all too much.

I indulged.

I thought of what it would feel like if Russ were here, with us on Thanksgiving, and he was sitting right in the empty spot on the couch next to me.

His body would be warm—always warmer than mine—and maybe, in this idyllic perfect world, he’d have his arm around me. I’d be able to cuddle in close to him as we watched Natalie act out some scene in the middle of the living room floor, and we’d all laugh. I’d feel Russ’ body move against mine as he laughed.

I could tuck my head against him and lean up to kiss him softly whenever I felt like it.

He’d kiss me back. He’d love it.

And at the end of the night, when we’d said goodnight to everyone, we could return home.

Maybe he’d say I wanted to do this all night, and it was so hard not to. Maybe then he’d kiss my neck gently, unbuttoning the top few buttons on my shirt, kissing lower and lower. I’d hum as his hands wrapped around my hips and he carried me to the bed. Our bed.

He’d have me like he wanted me, and I’d fall asleep in his arms. Like I did on the night of the party… but this time, he’d stay.

It was a lot of fantasy, and all too sentimental to ever be real.

Because the reality was that Russ was probably somewhere with his parents right now, talking about his wonderful new boyfriend named Shane. Telling them how he hopes they can meet him, maybe next month, hell, maybe he could even come for Christmas.

As the night wound down and my family began to be more sleepy than festive, I’d worked myself up into a state of vivid fantasy, only to crash down into a state of resigned lack of hope.

It was stupid to daydream about Russ.

It was only ever going to lead me to feel like this, awful, alone even when surrounded by loved ones.

Emmett was right, of course, he was right. I needed to clear the air with Russ, and maybe finally find some sort of closure—closure I’d been needing for over eight years.

* * *

I drove home from my parents’ house feeling more determined than I had felt in a long time. I tried to focus my anger and confusion into being determined—I was going to talk to Russ tomorrow, no matter what. I would not put it off. I would not avoid it.

It would be the only way I could move on.

What I never expected was that his truck would be outside of his house when I got home.

But there it was, sitting out front, and inside, the lights were on. There were no other cars, and it didn’t look like anyone else was there. From the confines of my car, after I’d turned off the engine outside my house, I turned to look back, trying to see if Russ was actually in there by himself.

And as I squinted, I could see it. He was at his dining room table, and no one else was inside. Was that even possible? His parents used to make such a big deal about Thanksgiving that they’d once made him take an exam early in college so that he could be back home by the Wednesday before the holiday.

But now he wasn’t even with them at all?

I felt my heart rate increase immediately as I realized what I was about to do. I was acting almost completely on impulse, instinct, and the residual energy that my conversation with Emmett had given me.

I was going to go talk to him. Better now than never.

I got out of my car and took a deep breath before starting over to his house, swallowing as I approached. I could see that he was definitely alone. When I got to his front door and raised my fist to knock, my hand was shaking.

I hesitated, squeezing my eyes shut, my hand hanging in the air, knowing I still had time to turn around and forget about any of this.

But then I did it anyway. I knocked.