Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(59)

“You should see our dearest Gabe now,” Tiffany says. “He will literally jump in front of tourists to talk to them about trees, and I think he’s so awkward people just let him talk, then he somehow cons donations out of them.”

“Yeah, yeah, good for Gabe.” Art rolls their eyes as they grab a scoop of hummus. “When are the fireworks going to start?”

Smaller fireworks have been popping up all evening, and it reminds me a little bit of being home. Where you can turn in any direction and see someone’s (possibly illegal) fireworks show popping up over the trees. If I were on a roof right now, I bet I could see dozens and dozens of them, all over the city.

Matt snuggles up to me a little bit. We haven’t told the group much about whatever we have going on, which has so far consisted mainly of watching Netflix in his dorm room and holding hands, resting slightly against each other—and if we’re feeling really bold, he leans his head on my shoulder, and we just stay like that for hours.

Now that we’re in the dark, his hand finds mine, and I grip it tightly.

What we’ve had has been slow and sweet, and it sits in a completely different world from what I had with Sal. There was nothing slow about my relationship with Sal, but we weren’t ever caught up by these real feelings. Everything is different with Matt, and I’ve let him set the pace, partially because he’s never dated anyone before, but also because I’m scared to mess this up by treating him like Sal. By going too far and taking it for granted.

The first few fireworks fly, and the park gasps with awe. I turn to Matt and see the flashes of light bounce off his face. He leans into me, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. I close the distance, and our lips meet as the crowds cheer and the rockets explode … just for us.

SAL

Gabriel hasn’t been responding to my texts all night, but at least I got to talk with him through a couple of disjointed voice messages this week. Though I was calling to tell him about my utter meltdown. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t utter words that showed how much of a failure I am.

I know now that I’m not a failure. But I was in a dark place. I went from working fifty hours a week, all leading up to this imaginary moment where I didn’t have to spend four years and a hundred grand in college … to nothing. No work, no one to talk to, and nothing to do but sit with the mistakes I made this summer. And in that dark place, I bought this ticket, so I could flee DC. Part of me already regrets it.

Maybe I’ll end up going to college; I don’t know. While Heath was busy working and Gabriel was busy doing whatever it is he does, I was able to talk to Reese about it more. College is a scam, but it’s a necessary one sometimes.

This morning, Reese actually threw out the idea of me running for office after high school, which of course has me thinking. I would love to show our joke of a mayor the door. And with our tiny town, could it be much more than running for student council president?

Is that just a pipe dream?

At least it’s nice to dream again, I think as I settle into my seat on this empty bus. I use an old Cornell sweatshirt as a pillow, and I drift off to sleep, calm for the first time since I showed up in DC.

GABRIEL

Matt is a good kisser. Not that I have a ton of experience, but I at least know he’s not a bad kisser, and that’s key. Though with his slightly tousled hair and his eager expression, he could have bit my face off and I’d probably still have enjoyed it.

“I’m not sure if you two saw, but the fireworks show already happened,” Art says, which makes Tiffany giggle.

She stands and starts to pack a bag. “Were you trying to watch it, like, through the reflection of each other’s eyes like some sort of eclipse situation? I don’t know, we couldn’t really tell.”

“Something you want to tell us?” Art asks pointedly.

My cheeks burn red, and I don’t dare look at Matt, who’s fallen into a fit of nervous giggles.

Tiffany shakes her head in a mocking way. “I just can’t believe you’re sleeping with our competition. We were supposed to be a team!”

“We’ll take your silence as an apology for having to witness your big ol’ public display of affection,” they chime in.

“I get it, guys, oh my god.” Matt can’t stop laughing.

We start on our way back, but it’s clear neither of them will let this go ever. They’ve both made it clear they approve of us, if only by the fact that they won’t shut up about this. Matt takes my hand, and when I look into his eyes, we smile. And it’s so sweet to be in a friend group where we don’t have to hide, or lie, or wonder if people are secretly judging us.

“I knew I should have been partnered with that hunk from Houston,” Tiffany says. “If anyone deserves a make-out session, it’s me.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to be third wheeling it for the rest of this summer,” Art replies. “I guess fourth wheel? But that’d just make us a car.”

“Maybe they’re flat tires in this analogy?”

“Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

Their banter continues, and at a certain point we stop even pretending to be annoyed with it. Six weeks in, I’m walking through the city, holding hands with a cute boy, surrounded by obnoxious friends. I’m not sure why I ever worried about this experience, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.