17. Liam

The momentI pull up outside my father's house, I regret my decision to come home.

Because next door, lit up like usual with bright Christmas lights, is Matthew's perfect house. And I'm where I've always been. On the outside.

Matthew spent my entire childhood telling me how brainless I was.

I guess I'm currently proving his point.

Because nothing is dumber than pining over someone who's not interested in you.

For the past few weeks, I've tried to get back into the swing of my everyday life, but everything seems wrong. I started researching funding opportunities for my gym, and I've desperately wanted to talk to Matthew about them. I had a client who completed their first half-marathon, and I wanted to tell Matthew about it.

I miss talking to him. I miss the funny insults that fly between us. I miss touching him, kissing him.

I just miss him.

If Matthew felt anything for me, he would have said something, right? Or he would have contacted me since Hawaii.

This is the one time when silence between us speaks volumes.

When I get inside, I receive a lukewarm reception from my father, but that's par for the course. Dad has always been halfhearted in his approach to me.

"You doing okay?" Dad grunts, which is about the depth his fathering extends to.

"Yep."

No, actually, Dad, I'm not okay. You remember the boy next door who I was engaged in an endless war with? Remember how you used to frequently be called into the school when one of our pranks on each other got out of control? Well, now I've gone and fallen for him. What do you think I should do?

I go and chuck my bag into my old room.

"It's going to be cold for the festival tonight," my father says when I re-emerge.

"Not sure if I'm going to go," I mutter.

My dad's bushy eyebrows fly up. The festival is practically compulsory in this town.

"You're going to stand your old man up for dinner?" he asks

My dad and I don't do much in the way of Christmas traditions, but when we go to the Christmas festival, we always get a sourdough bread bowl with clam chowder and drink hot apple cider.

I've never thought anything past the idea that we both liked the food, but judging by my father's expression, it obviously means something to him.

Besides, maybe it'll be good for me to see Matthew again. To remind myself of the Bainfield version of Matthew rather than the Hawaiian one. Remind myself of why the best thing for me to do is to get over him.

"Okay, I'll come," I say.

* * *

My father and I head to the Christmas festival at six p.m. It's already in full swing, and we have to wait in line for the chowder and cider. I can't relax as I eat, my shoulders staying tight.

My dad spots someone he knows from his bowling team and heads off to chat with them while I continue to scan the crowd despite myself.

And there he is.

My stomach churns.

He's standing on the other side of the square, across from the giant Christmas tree that fills the center of the town square. His coat is zipped up and he's wearing a white beanie, one lock of dark hair falling across his forehead.

But it turns out the amount of clothing Matthew has on doesn't reduce how much I'm attracted to him.

Fuck. There goes that theory.

He looks up, and I immediately start to retreat in the opposite direction.

The thought of seeing Matthew, of making polite conversation with him, is unbearable.

I can't do it. It just hurts too much.

I duck behind the Christmas tree. My gaze blurs, and I impatiently swat at my eyes. Shit. I really am a fucking mess over this.

I'm taking deep breaths to calm myself when the brightly colored Christmas stars hanging on the lower branches catch my eye.

Christmas stars. Exactly what I need to remind myself of the history between Matthew and me.

I move forward, reaching out to touch one.

The design of the stars hasn't changed, with "A Christmas wish from…" written on one side and room for people to describe their wishes on the other.

This one is from Nina, and I turn the wish over to discover she's wished for a new Barbie and a Nerf gun.

I scan the other wishes. Judging by the handwriting, making Christmas stars is still a compulsory thing at the elementary school.

But then my scanning comes to an abrupt stop.

A Christmas wish from Matthew O'Conner.

I blink.

I've written so many fake Christmas stars over the years, pretending to be Matthew O'Conner.

But I definitely didn't write this one.

I'm reaching for it before I can think, tugging it off the tree because it turns out that nothing matters to me more than finding out exactly what Matthew has wished for.

I turn over the star and my breath leaves me.

There, in Matthew's handwriting, is a single word.

Liam.

My heart races. I continue to stare at it, but the word doesn't change.

My name.

My name.

As I stare at it, I'm flooded with memories. Eight-year-old Matthew telling me not to feed his dog, his face when I insulted him, the endless pranks and wars between us over the years, Ms. Beauton scolding us, Max jumping the fence, me jumping around due to itching powder…

"I was hoping to show you that, but it looks like you've already found it." A voice comes from behind me.

I whirl around.

Matthew is standing behind me with a cautious expression.

"So it turns out you're what I want the most out of everything," he says, and I can see that he's shaking.

Oh my god. My chest feels like it's going to burst with all the emotions swelling inside.

I do the only thing I can.

I step forward and kiss him.

His lips are cold under mine, but so, so, right.

When I pull back, Matthew is breathless, his eyes wide, face flushed.

"You're what I most want too," I whisper.

He swallows hard, reaching up a gloved hand to touch the side of my face. I lean into it, and for a few seconds, we just stand there, the rest of the world ceasing to exist.

"I missed you," he says.

"I missed you more."

"Are you trying to one-up me on this?"

"Always." My voice comes out husky.

"So we're doing this?" he says, his blue eyes not leaving mine. "You and me, boyfriends?"

"Definitely," I say.

"Building a future together?" he asks.

I can't help the grin overtaking my face. Matthew and I taking on the world together? I can't think of anything better.

"Absolutely," I reply.

He smiles, and I need to kiss his smile like I need to breathe, so we're kissing again, a perfect, tender kiss that shimmers with all the emotions swirling between us.

When we finally pull apart, he looks dazed, kiss-drunk.

But Matthew's dazed look is nothing compared to when I glance around and see that our little display of PDA has attracted a lot of attention. Nearly all the movement around the tree has stopped. People are frozen in place, staring at us.

Matthew's mother's jaw is wide open as she stares at us. Then she's moving toward us like she needs a closer view of what's actually happening.

"Uh…when did this happen?" she asks when she reaches us.

"Recently," Matthew says. It appears he can't stop smiling.

I wrap an arm around his waist, and he leans into me.

His mom's gaze flits between us. "It might have been a bit easier on the rest of us if you'd figured it out earlier," she says finally.

I've never been more in awe of the speed of small-town gossip than I am tonight. News that Matthew and I were spotted kissing travels faster among the people we went to high school with than Roadrunner on steroids.

And it appears many people feel the need to come verify the news with their own eyes.

Jana Newton makes a big deal of pretending to check she's not having hallucinations. She rubs her eyes and blinks at the two of us.

"Is this really happening?"

"We're boyfriends, yes," Matthew says.

"Nothing makes sense in the world anymore," Jana says. "It's like the sky has turned green."

My father approaches me and does a double-take when he sees Matthew and me holding hands.

"You remember Matthew," I say.

My father's eyebrows fly up.

"The boy next door," he says slowly.

"Yeah. I fell for the boy next door," I say.

"Such a straightforward, simple love story," Matthew says, and I start to laugh until I replay his words and my breath hitches.

Love. He said this was a love story.

Matthew's eyes are wide like he's just realized what he's said.

For a few seconds, we just stare at each other.

"Hate and love are supposed to be very close emotions." My voice is hoarse.

Matthew has a tentative smile on his face. "I think we provide some evidence for that concept."

Dad claps a hand on my shoulder, breaking the little bubble where Matthew and I are locked in each other's gaze. "Good for you boys."

"Yeah, it's definitely good for us," I say.

Matthew and I continue to hold hands as we go around the market until he suddenly tugs his hand out of my grasp.

"Ooh, I see something I think you'll love. Be back in a sec, okay?"

"Okay."

I can't stop grinning as I head to the next booth selling Christmas candy.

But my smile fades when I recognize the elderly lady with gray curls behind the counter.

"Liam Jamieson." She says the words with a scowl that reflects the same disdain you would use for maggoty roadkill.

I shuffle uncomfortably.

"Ms. Beauton, hi. I'm surprised you recognized me. It's been so long."

Despite the years, she hasn't changed a bit. She's still prim and proper, dressed immaculately in her yellow cardigan.

The look she levels me with hasn't changed either.

"Oh, trust me, I will never forget your face," she says. "That sixth-grade class I taught with you and Matthew O'Conner in it was the most challenging year I had in my teaching career."

Something in her expression tells me she hasn't forgiven us for putting her through everything that happened that year.

"Sorry about that," I mutter.

As if she summoned him by saying his name, Matthew is suddenly back at my side.

"Look, muffin pie, I found some almond Christmas cookies for you."

He deposits a kiss on the side of my face and snuggles into me before he realizes who's watching us from behind the counter.

Matthew's eyes widen. "Oh wow, it's Ms. Beauton. Um…hi, how are you?"

Ms. Beauton's eyes flick from my arm around Matthew's waist to where he's cuddled into me and then back to our faces.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she says.