Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(9)

I take the stairs two at a time and crack open Reese’s bedroom door. The dim walls welcome me, protecting me from everything that’s happening down there. I can still hear everyone, but it’s muted. And I can breathe.

I don’t want to be a jealous person. Seeing his family, even hearing them now—“it’s not a fucking seahorse!”—floods my body with warmth. I feel so welcome here, and I know they’d easily take me as one of their own. But they’re not mine. I’m not theirs. I’m a welcome visitor here, but I’ll always be a visitor.

I sit on the floor and lean against the side of his bed. His bed is neatly made, his comforter draped perfectly. Everything in the room smells distinctly of him—of wildflowers and leather. And, for some reason I can’t place, a metallic smell that reminds me of Dad’s old welding gear in our garage.

I pull out my phone, and when I go into my messages, I see an unfinished message I had drafted. Seeing his cousins hug Reese and support him and talk about how jealous they were—it reminded me that I do have a family of my own, and I care about them. Even if I don’t know them.

Hey cuz, it’s Heath!! How are the spring breakers???? I’m heading down there in a few days, can’t wait!

“Everything okay?”

I look up as Gabriel peeks into the room. I scramble to stand, but he places a hand on my shoulder and sits next to me.

“No shame in crying, you know?” he says with a laugh. “What’s got you upset this time?”

“I assume you wouldn’t believe me if I told you it was just a video of a goat and a horse becoming friends?”

“No, I wouldn’t believe it.” He rolls his eyes. “Because I distinctly remember you crying about that last week in the group chat.”

I laugh. “Shut up. Just because I sent a few crying emojis doesn’t mean I was literally crying.”

“No, I remember, you sent like eleven crying emojis and said, ‘I’m literally crying, what’s wrong with me.’ ”

I’m silent for a bit as the memory comes back to me. I absolutely cried at that, fuck.

“Well, I guess I’m just thinking about it again. They’re friends.” I realize the joke’s run dry, so I sigh. “Don’t think poorly of me, okay? But I was just watching his family and it reminded me that even the few traditions my parents had are basically gone. It’s hard enough being an only child with no cousins around, but who’s going to throw a party for me now? How did I not know my last Christmas with my parents would be our last Christmas together? Fuck, Gabriel, this is hard.”

He leans his head on my shoulder, and I rest my head on his.

“I know Mom and Dad didn’t get along all the time. But Christmas morning? That always felt perfect, no matter how old I got. Dad would make biscuits and gravy; Mom and I would spend hours baking little Christmas tree cookies. I knew I wouldn’t have many years left, what with college and everything coming up, but I didn’t think we were just … done. You know? Why didn’t they warn me?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I can only imagine what that’s like.”

We sit for a while, with no awkwardness to our silence, which is something I can always count on Gabriel for. Reese has this frantic energy where I feel like I always need to fill the silence, and Sal acts like he doesn’t have the time to waste on a pause in the conversation.

After a while, Gabriel continues, “But it’s great Reese’s family is so welcoming. I know we’re not really a part of the family, but it sure feels like it sometimes. I think I can even tell the difference between Lucia and Isabella now.”

“Lucia is three.”

“And I remember that! Give me some credit.” He laughs. “For what it’s worth, Sal told me that Reese really appreciated you learning all their names.”

In my mind’s eye, I can so clearly see Reese in his design school in Paris. I can see Sal taking DC by storm. I can see Gabriel saving Boston parks.

I look down at my phone, with my message to Diana still queued up. I still can’t see myself working on the boardwalk in Daytona, living just off the beach with my cousin and aunt. But it’s happening, and I can’t avoid it any longer. I take in a long breath and hit send.

This is my family, and it’s time I get to know them.





? Golden Boys ?

GABRIEL + HEATH + REESE + SAL





CHAPTER NINE

SAL

I browse my selection of bow ties, thinking about who I want to be for my dinner with Betty Caudill, the Democratic congresswoman from our district. She’s an old family friend who put my name out to Senator Wright, a friend of hers, who was looking for teen interns to help with a special project over the summer. I don’t know exactly what the project is. I’d love to think it’s some super-secret plan that’s too sensitive to explain over email, but more likely they don’t have the details finalized yet. I get the feeling we’re to be guinea pigs for this high school internship program, which is exciting, but also a little unnerving.

For dinner, I want to wear a bow tie. Really dress the part, to prove to her and my parents that I was the right choice. But I also just like wearing them, which the guys never seem to understand. My tie rack is overflowing, which is silly considering I never wear them to school.