Chapter 25

25

JASON

In the days following Christmas, I thought a lot about the gift exchange between Zach and me. The whole interaction had felt awkward and clunky in a way we hadn't ever been before and I didn't know what to make of it, nor what to do about it. I wanted the easy friendship back. The ribbing. The random texts. The long conversations about anything and everything.

But I couldn't help but think the awkwardness wasn't all one-sided. More than once, I thought he'd intentionally put some distance between us. Had he figured out I was into him and was uncomfortable with it? Or was there something else going on? I hadn't missed how he'd inhaled when I'd hugged him close, like he was breathing me in. That wasn't something you did if you were uncomfortable. Though, what the hell did I know about any of it?

There had been that moment when I'd talked about not everything being black and white and seeing the shades of gray between that had triggered something in my memory. I'd read about graysexuality and the asexual spectrum when I'd been trying to figure out why I didn't experience attraction like everyone else. The day after Christmas, I went looking for the post I'd read, and while I hadn't found the specific article, I'd come across a plethora of more up-to-date information and stumbled across the demisexual label.

My heart leapt into my throat as I read the term, realizing that was likely what I was experiencing now. It would explain why I hadn't initially felt any sort of attraction to Zach. We'd needed to establish an emotional connection first. Or at least I'd needed that on my part. As far as I knew, he was straight. His behavior Christmas morning might have given me reason to suspect otherwise, but it was also entirely possible it was wishful thinking on my part.

I pulled the keychain out of my pocket and rubbed my thumb over the little Star of Life medallion in the center for the thousandth time. It wasn't a fancy or expensive gift, but it was so damn thoughtful. Every time I looked at it, I felt a flutter in my chest at the knowledge that Zach had seen it and thought of me.

"Is that what you're wearing tonight?" Mandy's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up at her, trying to focus on her question.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and came into my room, stopping in front of me with her arms crossed and a very disapproving look on her face. "I asked if that's what you're wearing tonight. You look like you're going to a barn dance."

I looked down at my dark-wash jeans and navy-blue sweater. "What's wrong with this?"

"I swear you're helpless. Zach's dad is a lawyer . Drea said this party is being catered. There will be fancy people there. You look like you're going to a fish fry at the VFW."

I was sure she was exaggerating, but she did have me starting to second-guess myself. Still, I couldn't help but razz her.

"Wait. Do I look like I'm going to a barn dance or to a fish fry at the VFW? Cause you said both of those things, and I just want to make sure I understand you correctly."

She didn't even bother to respond. "You wore that to Zach's Christmas morning, right? You can't wear that again."

"Like ever again?"

I was rewarded with another eye roll. "Don't be a dick."

She crossed over to my closet and started rifling through my clothes. It was then I noticed she was wearing a jumpsuit, I thought it was called, with some sort of long sweater over it and wedge booties. Her long blonde hair was hanging in loose waves rather than her usual braid, and I thought I spotted lip gloss, though it was hard to tell since she was muttering to herself while partially turned away from me as she slid hangers aggressively from one side of the rod to the other. "Jesus, don't you have any slacks?"

I groaned. "They're in the back. I don't know if they fit though."

She reached in, disappearing momentarily, then came out, her hand held up triumphantly, black slacks in hand. "Try these on while I look for something to go with them." She tossed them at me, hitting me in the face without even looking in my direction.

With a sigh, I headed into the bathroom to change. No way was I doing so in front of my sister. By the time I returned, she had three shirts and two sweaters laid out on my bed. I started to speak, but she held up her hand, stopping me as she assessed me with a critical eye. "I think those will do," she finally said.

"You don't think they're too tight?" I asked. I felt like I was going to hulk out with the way they were stretched across my ass and thighs.

"Turn around," she said, and I did as she asked.

"They're a little snug, but Zach's going to love your ass in them." My eyes bugged out and I choked on my spit. "Here, try this shirt," she said, completely oblivious to my distress.

Mandy tossed an eggplant-colored button-down at me, and I began putting it on, numbly processing what she'd just said. Unable to stop myself, I asked, "Did you just say Zach's going to love my ass?"

"Yeah. You want that, don't you?"

I paused in the middle of buttoning, spluttering as my brain short-circuited. "What? How? I don't…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, J. It's super obvious you two like each other. Y'all need to get over yourselves and get on with it."

"Neither of us has ever dated a man or given any indication we were interested in men. What makes you so sure we're into each other?"

"I have eyes in my head, don't I?"

I finished buttoning the shirt, still at a complete loss for what to say. I held out my hands, indicating she should judge the outfit.

"Tuck it in."

I did as instructed and then waited. Mandy narrowed her eyes, signaling for me to turn around. Nodding, she turned back to the closet, muttering something about a belt and shoes, while I stood there, shell-shocked by her assessment of my feelings toward Zach. Which also included his feelings toward me—or at least her perception of his feelings. If she'd figured out I was into him, was it possible she was right about him being into me?

Good God, having a crush on someone was quite possibly the dumbest emotion I'd ever experienced. How did people do this all the time?

"Mandy, just stop and come here."

She continued muttering to herself, her head buried in my closet. She either hadn't heard me or was ignoring me.

"Mandy!" I said more forcefully. When her head popped out, eyes raised in question, I said more quietly, "Come here."

"But I?—"

"Just stop and come talk to me."

Something in my tone must have registered because she finally came out of the closet and sat on the bed. "What?"

"Just…how are you so nonchalant about all this stuff with Zach?"

"What? Because he's a guy?"

"Well…yeah. I don't know. I didn't even figure it out myself until recently."

"Does it matter that he's a guy?"

I thought about it a moment and realized that in all of my confusion over the last couple of weeks, none of it had anything to do with his gender and was more so related to the fact that I'd never been attracted to anyone , closely followed by worry that he was my best friend. The gender thing hadn't really played into it. "No, I don't care that he's a guy."

"Then why would you think I'd care?"

"Fair enough. But this is Zach . He's my best friend. And he's straight."

"Doubt it."

"Mandy—" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with my sixteen-year-old sister.

"Look. You can't tell me you haven't caught a vibe off him."

"What, like a vibe that he's into dudes?"

"No, dumbass. A vibe that he's into you. "

I thought back, and while I was pretty positive there hadn't been anything there over the summer, I thought maybe I'd noticed something since he'd been back. He'd been oddly distant after I'd fallen asleep on his couch. There'd been a couple of times our hands had brushed against each other when we'd been out shopping, and he'd quickly pulled away. The Christmas gift. He'd invited me over super early to give it to me. The way he'd inhaled when I'd hugged him after. I'd thought those little things were in my head, but maybe they painted a bigger picture, one I'd been overlooking while I tried to figure out my own shit.

"Do you really think he's into me?"

" Jesus . You are one of the smartest dumbasses I know."

"Come on, Mandy. I'm serious."

She sighed, pushing her hair off her face and scooting farther onto the bed. "Yes. I think he's into you."

"But how do you know? Did Drea say something?"

"No. But she didn't have to. It's obvious to everyone except the two of you, apparently."

"What do I do? What if you're wrong?"

"Just…I don't know. At the party tonight, look for signs. Like, really look. Pay attention to the way he looks at you when he talks. The way he only has eyes for you. The flush in his cheeks when you look at him. Flirt a little and see if he flirts back."

"Now who's the dumbass? Do you really think I have the first clue about how to…to flirt?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flirt then. Just…just hang out with him. Talk. Joke. Maybe put your hand on his arm and see what he does."

I scrubbed my hands over my face. "Oh my God, I feel like I'm trapped in a nineties rom-com."

"Well, you're kind of acting like you're in one."

"So helpful."

"You're going to be fine. As you said, he's your best friend. What better person to fall for than the guy who knows you better than anyone else?"