I was shaking when I came inside, too obviously to hide it. Marcus caught my eye from across the kitchen and held up a bottle of beer, a silent question. I waved him off and made a beeline for the bathroom, tucked away in a hallway between the kitchen and the sun porch, next to yet another Christmas tree.

I’d have to go find Marcus later. I didn’t want to be rude—it was his house, after all—and I wasn’t sure I trusted him not to have noticed I was upset about something. Marcus could be discerning in downright uncomfortable ways. But for now—

I shut the bathroom door behind me and sank back against it, closing my eyes. For now, I needed a minute to gain my composure, because I felt like I was fucking flying apart. I stared blankly at the snowflake-patterned toilet paper cozies and a hand-towel with a picture of Santa dancing uncomfortably and saying he had to ‘Go go go!’

It had been a mistake to touch Eli’s hand. I’d tried so hard to hold myself back from him. It hurt, watching him hurt, and not being able to do anything to take it away. To know that I was the cause of it all. But I couldn’t trust myself around him. I’d touched his hand for a second—a second only—and my heart had damn near stopped.

The poor kid. He had no fucking clue what he did to me. Or maybe he did, and that was why he’d—no, nope, no.

I swerved, mentally. I was not going to think about that drive home two weeks ago. I never should have let that happen. I certainly wasn’t going to make matters worse by returning to that memory, no matter how much it tugged at me.

I’d been trying so hard to keep my distance, to keep my walls up. To be the person I was supposed to be to him. A mentor. An advisor. A friend, at most. But clearly I’d done something wrong, if I’d given him the impression he should try to kiss me.

Or maybe you gave him exactly the impression you meant to. Maybe you wanted him to—

No.

I wasn’t going to indulge that thought either.

My heart ached from watching him cry just now. From not being able to hold him. But I couldn’t, and even if he didn’t understand that, I did. It was too late to undo the damage I’d caused, but God help me, I could stop it from getting worse.

Eli would be fine. He had to be. He was nineteen—he’d hardly remember me by this time next year. He’d move on, which was exactly as it should be.

And me?

What happened to me was less important. As long as Eli was okay, I could handle it. And surely someday my heart would wake up and realize how ridiculous it was to be carrying a torch for someone I’d known for just a few months, someone who didn’t even realize how deeply he’d touched me.

And until then, I could fake it. That was the right thing to do. I nodded fiercely at a framed needle-point of Santa and Mrs. Claus holding hands as they sat in rocking chairs, a couplet beneath their feet. ‘Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be.’ I refused to let my mind wonder what it would be like to grow old along with Eli.

Taking a deep breath, I turned and checked my face in the mirror. When I was satisfied it betrayed no trace of the emotions still churning through me, I stepped out of the bathroom. Marcus was still in the kitchen, and I took him up on his offer of a beer. I’d taken the train out to the party, so I wasn’t driving, but I’d been too nervous to drink all night anyway, wondering what Eli might do. Now, I just hoped the beer could calm my nerves.

“How you doing, man?” Marcus asked, clinking his bottle against mine. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all night. How’ve you been?”

“Good, good,” I said, a little absently as I scanned the rest of the kitchen and what I could see of the dining room. No Eli. He had to be okay, didn’t he? What if he was still outside? He could freeze to death out there.

“You seem a little distracted.” Marcus’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” I made myself face Marcus and focus on him. If I couldn’t carry on a normal conversation with a friend when Eli wasn’t even in the vicinity—well, I knew I was fucked, but that was even more seriously fucked than I was prepared to deal with. “Yeah, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Some papers due, and family stuff.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Do you have relatives coming to town for the holidays? Or are you traveling?”

“People coming to see us,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t press for details. “It’s a little complicated.”

It wasn’t, but no one asks you how you’re spending your holidays and wants a detailed answer that involves your permanently comatose mother and a raft of uncomfortable hospital visits with extended family you only ever see once a year.

“I hear ya. It’s a crazy time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the chaos but—” Marcus laughed as he looked around the room. “I’ll put it this way—when January comes and Cory’s back at college, and Mina’s parents head home, and Leigh and Jess and Zeke go back to Key West? It’s one of the few times of year I actually enjoy peace and quiet.”

I blinked. “Jess and Leigh live in Key West? I have friends who always joke about going there.”

“Yeah. They’ve been down there for about five years now. They didn’t mention that? I saw you talking to them earlier.”

I had talked to them, but only as an excuse to get out of talking to Eli, and then I’d ended up holding Zeke for half an hour while Jess and Leigh took advantage of being baby free and ate dinner.

“Dad! Dad, can we do carols now?”

Julia’s voice preceded Julia herself as she came into the kitchen from the dining room. I caught sight of Eli and Cory behind her, then jerked my eyes away.

Marcus glanced at the clock up on the wall. “It’s only 10:30, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but we want to set fireworks off after and if we wait any longer, you’re going to say that it’s too late and the neighbors are asleep and we shouldn’t wake them up by the time we’re done.” Julia glared at him. “You know, like you say every year.”

Marcus looked offended. “My darling younger daughter, are you implying that I have some sort of plot to prevent you from setting off fireworks?”

Julia eyed him flatly. “Are you implying that you don’t?”

“Whatever happened to respecting your elders?” Marcus asked, giving me a pained glance.

“Maybe they should make sure they deserve respecting first,” Eli said, over Julia’s shoulder.

Marcus laughed. “Fair point. Alright, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it. Go herd everyone into the living room.”

He smiled at me, but I had a hard time smiling back. Apparently I was the only person who’d caught the glance Eli had shot me as he’d spoken. The glance that clearly said, “fuck you.”

So much for calming down. Eli might have gotten over being sad—but having him be outright angry at me wasn’t much of an improvement.

For you. If it helps him feel better, isn’t that the important thing?

I frowned as I followed everyone into the living room. Eli had a red solo cup in his hands, filled with something that looked like soda, but could have contained any number of additives. I hoped he was being careful.

“Have you ever been to one of Marcus’s Christmas parties before?” Leigh asked me as I joined her and Jess in front of the fireplace. It was getting crowded as everyone piled into the front room, heckling Marcus as he took his seat at the piano in the corner.

I pulled my gaze away from Eli as he settled down on the stairs, holding a very excited-looking Zeke on his lap. “No, why?”

Jess grinned. “Oh. You’re in for a treat.”

Carol singing, it turned out, wasn’t just something that happened during the party, for those who were interested. It was the main event, and judging from the number of bodies crushing into the room, no one wanted to miss it.

Julia dimmed the lights as Cory lit candles, casting the room in a warm and magical glow, before both of them scurried back to the staircase. Eli rested his head on Cory’s shoulder for a minute and I forced myself to look away, ignoring the stabbing feeling in my gut. It was ridiculous. Eli didn’t even like girls, and besides, it was none of my business.

Mina, Marcus’s wife, passed out homemade, spiral bound booklets from a basket near the door, which had the evening’s carols printed in order. There were music notes printed along with the words, and I wondered if we were really expected to read them, or if they were just there for Marcus.

But as he trilled out the opening notes to Hark, The Herald Angels Sing, adding flourishes that even someone as musically stunted as I was could tell weren’t printed on the page, it was clear that he didn’t need sheet music. Marcus started us off, his rich tenor leading the room in song, and we barely had time to catch our breath at the end of that carol before he dove into It Came Upon A Midnight Clear.

I did my level best not to look over at Eli and Aisling as they punched the words ‘it came upon’ and ‘crushing load,’ or when their voices soared over everyone else’s for O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and O Come, All Ye Faithful. Maybe early Catholics had been onto something, wanting to keep their religious ceremonies in Latin. It had to be harder to make sex jokes to Adeste Fidelis. Though knowing Eli—I jerked my eyes away from where they’d landed on his blonde hair, golden and shimmering in the candlelight—he’d find a way.

Marcus wasn’t just our pianist—he turned out to be our choir director, too, dividing us into rounds for Silent Night, teaching Jess and Leigh the descant for The First Noel, and assigning parts for The Twelve Days of Christmas. Eli, Aisling, Julia, and Cory decided, naturally, to chant ‘Oi! Oi! Oi!’ after ‘five golden rings’ each time it was sung. But no one seemed to mind—if anything, the room laughed harder each time they did it.

Eli glowed, basking in the attention. He grinned and bounced Zeke along with the music, taking his tiny little index finger and moving it along with the words on the page. Zeke wasn’t paying any attention, though—he was far more interested in bringing Eli’s hand to his mouth so he could chew on Eli’s sleeve. Eli just laughed, and my heart caught in my throat.

I could grow old with him.

The thought flashed through my mind, then darted away before I could catch it and yell at it. That was hardly a thought to be having about anybody I’d known for only a few months, let alone someone who was seven years younger and still in high school. You couldn’t possibly know you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone who, in the grand scheme of things, you’d just met. Right?

The second to last song of the evening was O Holy Night, which had always been a personal favorite. For me, it had always seemed to capture some of the sadness inherent to Christmas—the brokenness we all feel. I was excited to sing it, but apparently this was the one song we weren’t all supposed to sing along to. Instead, some guy named Isaac—who Marcus introduced as an old band member, though I couldn’t help noticing the hint of a grimace accompanying his words—was going to sing it to us.

He was good, I supposed. Probably hitting the notes a little better than the group of us as a whole would have. But he sang with a lot of… feeling. And… swaying. And hand movement. And more self-serious pauses and deep draws of breath than three months of soap operas put together—and trust me, my mom used to love soap operas, so I speak from experience.

I didn’t let myself look at Eli during the song. I knew, without having to look at all, that he’d be smirking, and I knew I’d be helpless to keep from laughing if I saw. So I kept my eyes glued to Isaac’s figure and tried to find the sense of need and fulfillment the song spoke of instead.

It wasn’t easy.

Isaac bowed… and bowed… and then fake-told people to stop clapping, and then bowed some more. I did let myself look over at Marcus, and caught him rolling his eyes. There had to be a story there, and I wanted to ask, but it had to wait, because when Isaac finally rejoined the rest of the group, Marcus struck up the opening chords to Joy to the World and the room filled with laughter and light and song.

I was shocked to see that the clocks said midnight when we were done. How had so much time passed? It wasn’t the end of the party, but while Eli and the others snuck outside, fireworks in hand, I watched parents and kids and even unencumbered folks start to line up at the door and say their goodbyes.

The thought of leaving made me feel empty, for some reason, and I found myself dreading the long taxi and train ride back to my apartment in the city. On a whim, I pulled my phone out to text Adam.

NICK: Hey, this might be kinda weird, but you guys aren’t like, out and in the mood for company, are you?

I hit send, but I didn’t get a reply. I don’t know what I had expected. I knew coming out here, I’d have a long trip back home.

But I hadn’t expected to see Eli. Hadn’t expected him to apologize for something that was clearly my fault. And now I just felt sad. For him, for me, for everyone going home alone on this cold, snowy night when you were supposed to be feeling nothing but joy and peace on earth and family togetherness and goodwill towards men. My heart hurt.

“Just stay, my dad won’t care.”

I heard Julia’s voice as I walked into the living room after bringing some empty plates and glasses to the kitchen. Julia and Aisling were arguing with Eli next to the Christmas tree.

“I can’t.” Eli grimaced. “I promised my mom I’d have the car back by 8 a.m.”

“But that’s so early,” Aisling said. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m an idiot? But I do need to get home. I’ll just chug a bunch of water and sit on the porch until I’m good to drive.”

“Excuse me, did I just hear someone suggesting getting into a car while impaired?” Marcus asked as he crossed the room to join their little group.

“What? No,” Eli said quickly. “I’m not—I just meant like, I’m kinda tired, but I’ll just drink some coffee and then I’ll be good to—”

“No.” Marcus shook his head firmly. “Definitely not. Not after the night you three have had.”

Julia looked indignant. “Dad, we didn’t—”

“Think hard about how you want to finish that sentence, Jules,” Marcus said, and after a moment’s silence, she closed her mouth and looked down. Marcus looked over at Eli. “I’m not accusing anyone of doing anything they shouldn’t have, but I am saying that I don’t think it’s safe for you to be out on the roads at this hour. Eli, why don’t you just stay along with Aisling?”

Eli winced. “I’m sorry. I’d like to, but my mom is going to kill me if I don’t get home. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sit outside, I swear I won’t get in the car for another two hours.”

“And I’m supposed to let you freeze outside on my porch?” Marcus shook his head. “No. That’s silly. Just stay the night, we can make up another guest bed and—”

Eli looked pained. “That’s really nice of you, but seriously, my mom’s going to flip out if I don’t come home tonight.”

“Son, you’re not driving, and that’s final.”

“But I—”

“Eli—”

“I can drive him,” I broke in, finally stepping into the conversation.

Eli jumped and everyone else looked surprised. Had they really not seen me standing there in the archway to the dining room?

“Nick, you don’t have to—”

“Really, it’s fine.” I was as surprised as anyone else that I’d joined the conversation, but it was clear they weren’t getting anywhere. “I had one beer, hours ago, and this way Eli can get home without his mom worrying, and we can all feel safe about the roads.”

Marcus frowned. “What about your car? You’d have to leave it up here.”

“I took the train, actually.”

“But then you’ll just end up in New Jersey,” Eli said, glaring at me. “That’s stupid. You don’t live there. And I don’t need anyone to drive me.”

“My dad lives in South Orange, remember? I’ll call a cab once I get you home, and spend the night there.”

“But that’s—”

“He’ll be happy to see me.” I smiled as though that settled the matter. My dad would probably be shocked to see me, and worried that something must be wrong, for me to show up at this hour, but that didn’t matter. “And you’ll get home without worrying your mom. Win win.”

Eli sighed like I was being unreasonable, but I didn’t particularly care. He clearly couldn’t drive himself home, and if he was going to make a fuss about staying here, this was the obvious solution.

I got angry just thinking about him driving. If I’d had any idea he was planning on getting in a car, I would have stepped in the second I saw that bottle of champagne in his hands. Eli might be mad at me, but that was no excuse to take those kinds of risks.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Eli muttered, and God, if looks could burn a hole through your skull and set your brain on fire, I’d have been screaming in pain right then.

“Don’t think of me as a babysitter,” I said with a grin that was completely forced. “More like a chauffeur.”

“You’re sure, Nick?” Marcus asked. “You could stay too, tonight. We’ve got more than enough beds.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

And despite Eli’s objections, my word seemed to carry the day. In short order, Aisling and Julia were hugging him goodnight, Cory waving from the top of the stairs, and Marcus was pressing twenty dollars of gas money into my hands as Eli walked out onto the front porch.

“Just in case you need anything.” He shrugged. “Thank you for getting him home safely. I try not to micromanage my kids. I’d rather have them feel like they can come and talk to me, instead of being afraid of getting in trouble. But I need to have a talk with Julia tomorrow.”

I didn’t know what to say to that? Yes, you should? No, don’t bother, because don’t you remember being that age and thinking you knew everything? Don’t you remember feeling invincible?

“Don’t be too hard on her. It’s entirely possible this was all Eli and Aisling’s doing,” I said finally, remembering the last time I’d seen them in the city.

Marcus snorted. “If you think that, you don’t know my kid. She never needed anyone to lead her into trouble. She’s quite capable of finding it on her own.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Regardless of who the ringleader is, these kids are lucky to have you. Eli, especially. Thank you for taking care of him tonight.”

The words burned in my chest as I followed Eli down the flagstone walk, dodging patches of snow on the way to his car. Taking care of him? If Marcus only knew.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Eli said, giving me a truculent glance as we neared his car—a Toyota Sienna minivan I could only assume was his mom’s. “I’m fine to drive.”

I looked at him in the moonlight. “Really?”

“Well, I would be,” he said, rolling his eyes. “In a little while. I wasn’t gonna drive until I was sober.”

“Just give me the keys,” I said, holding out my hand.

Eli sighed, fished for the keys in his jacket pocket, and deposited them in my hand. Then he marched around to the side of the van, folded his arms across his chest, and stared at the car door like it had personally offended him.

So. This was going to be a pleasant ride.

I unlocked the car and slid in silently, trying not to feel the waves of irritation rolling off of Eli.

“You wanna DJ?” I asked, gesturing to the radio as I put the car in drive and slipped out onto the road.

Eli unfolded, then re-folded, his arms and stared out the windshield. “Whatever.”

I sighed. “Alright then. Guess I will.”

I turned the radio on and punched a preset button at random. AM news. More AM news. Still more AM news. Finally I found something that wasn’t news but instead sounded like a bunch of pipes clanking together and a cat dying underwater. I left it there.

I turned the corner, pulling out onto the county road that ran down along the edge of Marcus’s block. It wasn’t that late, but the street was deserted, and even though we weren’t that far from civilization, it felt like we were the only people around for miles. The tree branches made spectral shapes across the sky as the van ghosted along the snowy road.

“Jesus, I wouldn’t have let you be in charge if I knew your taste was this bad,” Eli said after a few minutes silence, punctured only by the faint sounds coming from the radio—the clanking pipes had changed to hissing radiators, as far as I could tell.

“Oh, so you have an opinion after all.” I said it lightly, trying to show that I was joking, but Eli didn’t answer and his frown only deepened as he tuned the radio to a pop station. “Besides, I thought we’d already established that my taste in music was terrible.”

Not a hint of a smile.

“Ugh.” Eli growled as it became clear the pop station was playing Sleigh Ride. “I fucking hate how every station thinks that we want to hear nothing but Christmas music from Halloween to New Year’s.”

“Really?” I cocked an eyebrow as I drove. “You and Aisling seemed to be getting into singing carols back at Marcus’s. I saw you showing Zeke how to follow along with the music.”

Eli shifted uncomfortably. “I was just trying to be nice to the kid. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I thought it looked like you were having fun.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” He repeated. “Anyway, I wasn’t the one tearing up over O Holy Night.”

“I wasn’t tearing up. Just because I happen to like the song—”

“‘Fall on your knees?’” Eli said, a harsh smile cracking across his face. “Figures you’d like that one.”

“You are incorrigible, you know that?” I said it without thinking. It just felt good to be talking to Eli again, even if it was him making fun of me. Maybe this car ride wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

But Eli just turned his head and gave me an inscrutable look. “I don’t think you actually know me at all.”

I sighed. “Eli—”

“What?” he snapped.

I realized too late I’d been using that tone he didn’t like when I said his name. I didn’t mean anything by it. His name was just always on the tip of my tongue, the same way he was always in my thoughts.

“Let me try that again. I’m really sorry if I—that I hurt you,” I corrected myself.

“Who says you hurt me?”

“Okay, I’ll try a third time. I’m sorry that my actions led us into this situation. I’m sorry I that I’ve—well, I’m not trying to put words in your mouth, but I think I’ve upset you, and I’m sorry for that too. I wish we’d never gotten into this mess. I wish to God you’d never met me.”

“Fuck you,” Eli whispered. “Just—you don’t even—just, fuck you. You don’t get it at all.”

“Can we please just—”

“No.” Eli glared at me. “No, we really can’t. You’ve said what you wanted to say, and you obviously don’t want to listen to me. So, fine. We can do it your way. But whatever like, guilt you’re trying to assuage here? That’s on you. You’ve made it plenty clear you don’t want anything to do with me, so no, you don’t get to make that decision and then still ask me to clear your conscience.”

“Eli, please.” I was outright begging him now, I wasn’t even sure what for, but Eli just pulled the hood up on his jacket and turned towards the window, wedging his shoulder between the edge of the seat and the car door.

Fuck.

Everything I did, I just hurt him more. The best thing I could do would be to get out of his life, as quickly as possible. Before I made things even worse.

As we pulled onto the highway, a flash of light on right side of the road illuminated Eli’s reflection, and my breath caught. His eyes were closed, but tears were leaking from them. I’d made him cry—again.

It wasn’t til we reached the Tappan Zee that I tried talking to him again. The road was lit up and almost deserted, and the bridge swept across the river like a bird’s wing, gracefully unfurling over the waters of the Hudson. Tiny pinpricks of light from the houses on the other side looked like diamonds in the inky black night.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

I glanced over at Eli. His face was still turned away, but I could see his reflection in the window, and he looked like he’d fallen asleep. Probably for the best.

“I am sorry,” I whispered, glancing at his sleeping form. God, I ached to touch him. “So, so sorry.”

We had the road to ourselves most of the drive, as I-287 swooped its giant arc through the hills of northern New Jersey. Eventually, I got as tired of the Christmas carols as Eli had been. After a particularly awful rendition of Santa Baby, I reached out to change the station, then stopped, as Baby, It’s Cold Outside came on.

I looked over at Eli again, to see if he’d noticed, but he looked as asleep as ever. I hesitated, then pulled my fingers away from the dashboard. What was the harm in letting the song play? Who knew when I’d even see Eli, after tonight?

I took the exit for Quincy off the highway, finding myself slowing down as I drove through the empty streets towards Eli’s house. We were getting close now, and the part of me that didn’t want this night to end was getting louder and louder.

Was it so horrible to want to save this, to imprint the memory of this last night with Eli so deep that it became a part of me? I tried not to breathe, tried to make myself as still and quiet as I could, so I could soak up more of his presence.

This is the last time.

The words echoed in my head, and in my heart. Why had I had to meet Eli at all, if it was only going to come to this? Sorrow washed over me like rain as Eli’s house came into view, and part of me wanted to just keep on driving.

I eased the car into park out front. A deer stood silently under a denuded maple tree and watched as I turned off the lights and took the key out of the ignition.

Eli still hadn’t stirred.

“Eli?” My heart thumping, I put a hand on his shoulder. Just his shoulder, through about seven layers of clothing, and I still felt my stomach turn a somersault. “Hey, we’re here. Are you awake?”

Eli’s eyes blinked open drowsily. “What?”

“You’re home,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. I moved my hand from his shoulder before I could find an excuse to let it linger.

Eli straightened up, looking around the car in confusion, then fixing his gaze on the front porch light of his house.

“Oh.” He nodded, once, his face still turned away from me. “Okay.”

“I’ll um—I’ll let Marcus know you’re home safe.” Stupid thing to say, but that unruly part of me was clamoring even louder, desperate to prolong this moment a little longer.

“Right. Yeah. Thanks.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and began to get out of the car.

“Wait—Eli—I—”

“What?” He rounded on me, halfway out the door, the overhead light catching on his cheeks and lighting them up in gold.

“I—do you want—I mean, should I just leave the car here?” I stumbled over my words as I tried to think of some reason to get Eli to stay for just another few seconds.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He slid the rest of the way out.

“And the keys—should I—”

“Just keep them, stay in the car till your cab comes. You can leave them on the porch before you go.” He started to swing the door shut.

“Eli, wait, just—” I looked at him helplessly, my heart twisted into a knot. This couldn’t be it, could it? “Please, I just need to—”

“Goodbye, Nick.”

And as suddenly as it began, it was over.

Christmas was awful.

Not because anything happened, but because nothing happened, nothing at all, except me being trapped with my thoughts and my regrets.

Adam and Ben hosted a Friendsmas night at Maggie’s, since they’d be spending the actual holiday with Ben’s family. Adam’s sister, Esther, came, and Gray brought his new boyfriend—Tyler fucking Lang, of all people—and Micah made us all drink chartreuse and cherry colored cocktails that I could tell were going to give me a hangover the next morning.

“Alright,” Adam said, sliding back into the booth across from me after hugging Esther good-bye. The evening was winding to a close and Gray and Tyler were talking to Micah at the bar while Ben and Tyler’s brother, Luke, were comparing workout routines and arguing about the best posture for squats. Adam gave me a stern look. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing’s wrong.”

Adam shook his head. “Try again.”

“Really.” I felt shitty about lying, but there was no way I could even begin to explain. “I’m just a little tired, I guess. End of the semester, you know?”

Adam gave me a flat look. “Nick, you know I love you, but you are a terrible liar. Something’s obviously wrong, because if it weren’t, you’d be the one asking me if I were okay. My dad’s being really shitty to Esther, and Ben’s old label is disputing paying him some of what they owe, and I’ve been kind of a mess the past few days, and the fact that you haven’t noticed, that you haven’t asked me what’s wrong, can only mean that something’s very wrong with you.”

“Shit.” I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “Adam, I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I’ve been a terrible friend, haven’t I? How are you?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Adam said, laughing. “You don’t get to make the discussion about me instead.”

“But you just said—”

“I’m fine,” Adam insisted. “I mean, yeah, I’m a mess, but Esther’s an expert at handling my dad’s bullshit and Ben and I will get through everything fine. That’s not the point.”

“Yeah, but I still care about how you’re doing.”

“Because you’re my friend. And now you know. And because I’m your friend, I would like to know how you’re doing, too. And from the amount of run-around I’m getting here, you must really not be doing well, since you obviously don’t want to talk about it.”

“That transparent, huh?”

Adam laughed. “Only to people who know you. And if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I just want you to know you can.”

I sighed. “I appreciate it. I do. But I actually literally can’t. It’s—it’s—”

“It’s complicated?”

It’s that I think I’ve fallen for a 19-year-old who I’m supposed to be an advisor for. And there’s no option that doesn’t lead to me hurting him, and hurting myself. Does that count as complicated?

“Something like that.” I squirmed under Adam’s scrutiny. “What?”

Adam snorted. “I know you’re usually the one offering me advice, so I can’t promise I’m going to be any good at this but—”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, no, shut up and actually listen to me for once, okay?” Adam waited until I’d subsided before he spoke again. “I just want you to know that we care. All of us here. So if you ever do feel like you can talk about it… well, we’re here.”

He cracked a lopsided grin. “And I have no idea if this is totally off base, but a few months ago you were telling me that things weren’t nearly as bad as I thought, and that maybe being honest and being brave and trusting people could be a good thing, so just like, imagine me saying all that back to you.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “Really. I’m not sure that advice applies in this case, but thanks.”

“Anytime, dude. If you need us, you’ve got us, okay? We’re always here.”

I appreciated that. I did. It was just hard to remember what I did have, when all I could seem to think about was what—and who—was missing.

“You waiting for an email or something?”

My head snapped up at the sound of my dad’s voice. I’d just come to join him in my mom’s hospital room, but at a lull in the conversation, I’d found my gaze drifting back to my phone.

“No,” I said, forcing myself to put it away in my pocket. “No, not really.”

I was waiting, I supposed. But I wasn’t expecting anything. In the weeks since I’d last seen Eli, I’d found myself checking that email account he’d made for us once, then twice, then countless times a day, just to see if he’d written something else.

No dice.

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” My dad peered at me as he stood up and got his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Absolutely. Just tired is all.”

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything, okay? It shouldn’t take more than an hour to get your Aunt Rita to the airport and back.

“I’ll be okay,” I said, making myself smile.

I was a wreck, but there was no reason to worry my dad on top of everything else. The holidays were exhausting, with all my mom’s family coming to visit, but once Rita was on her plane, he’d finally get the house to himself again.

He gave me a final concerned look at the door, then waved and disappeared down the hall. I sighed, dropped my messenger bag on the floor, and stepped towards the bed, letting the hush of the room fall around me like a blanket.

My mom’s bed was on the north wall of her room, where she could catch as much light as possible from the south- and west-facing windows. The overhead lights were off, but the soft light of the afternoon, glinting off the snow that still hadn’t melted outside, filled the room with a pearly glow. Aside from the gentle, rhythmic beeps of the monitors next to my mom’s bed, everything was quiet.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, leaning in. “Missed you.”

I bent to kiss her forehead. She was the same as ever—pale, fragile-looking, but lovely. She might have just been resting, if you didn’t know better. The shock of the accident had turned her hair white well before her time, but her cheeks were smooth.

I dragged one of the threadbare armchairs over to the bed, its mauve and teal pattern as familiar as the back of my hand. Settling down into it, I leaned forward and took my mom’s hand, holding it between my own.

“So, let’s see, what do I have to catch you up on?”

I did my best to give my mom news whenever I saw her. The doctors said there wasn’t really any chance of her waking up, but they also admitted it was hard to know exactly what it was like for her in this state. And the nurses said it couldn’t hurt to talk to her.

Usually, it calmed me down. But today? Today, I could barely keep my mind on anything, and when my phone buzzed in my pocket, I jumped. It was just my dad, telling me Rita sent her love.

“Sorry about that,” I said ruefully, turning back to my mom and took her hand again. “Just Dad. Not—not Eli.”

And somehow, saying his name opened the floodgates.

“Mom, what do I do?” I leaned forward and pressed my head to the edge of her bed, as though she could offer me solace. “I’m so fucked. There’s no world where this is okay, and yet I can’t stop thinking about him.”

I’d been telling Eli the complete truth, when I said my mom was everything to me. I’d been devastated, after the accident. My mom had always seen the world as this place filled with light and goodness. It hadn’t seemed fair, that something like this could happen to her.

But I’d promised myself I would be strong, for her. That I’d try to live my life the way she would have, and make her proud. It wouldn’t bring her back, but maybe if I spent my life helping others, the way she had, I could keep her memory alive. And even on the bad days, when life seemed empty and gray and lonely, I did my best to try to see things the way she would have.

What would she see, though, if she looked at me now?

I made myself sit up, squeezing the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes as I took a deep breath.

“I know what I’m supposed to do. And I’m trying to do it, you know? I talked to Gwen, and told her I had to quit for health reasons. She said she understood, but I wish it didn’t feel like I were fucking things up so badly for everyone.”

I had talked to Gwen. The day after Friendsmas at Maggie’s, I’d called her and set up a meeting. She’d taken it as well as could be expected, but she was sad, and I hated leaving her in a lurch, and I hated that even now, I was still lying to her.

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” I whispered. “I thought it would feel good. Better, at least. But it doesn’t feel better—it just feels worse. It feels like—”

I sucked in a harsh breath of air.

“It feels like I’ve lost him, Mom. And that kills me.”

There was no answer, of course. Just the gentle beep of the monitors, the quiet sound of footsteps at the far end of the hall, and the jagged sounds of my own breathing.