Thomas and Niko in the City of Trees

Chapter 13 - Part 1

The house is quiet the next morning. I think everyone is sleeping in. Thomas held me for most of the night. We're parted now, but the second he wakes up he sort of reaches for me, so I slip back into his arms. We're bare-chested. I can feel him through his underwear, pressing against my hip. Just like that, we're both settling into the reality of what's come to pass. I'm telling you, there's no more pretending, no more attempts to explain away what we've done.

"Are you doing okay?" he asks.

"Yeah."

He squeezes me a little. "Just making sure."

"Who knew you could be so caring?" I say.

"What are you talking about? I'm super caring. Always have been," he says. "Shit, dude, I'm the fucking provider."

I laugh.

He kisses my neck. "Nikola," he says in a voice so soft it's breaking in and out. "Last night was good, right?"

"Yeah," I say. Don't ask me why I'm suddenly fighting off the urge to cry. "It was really good, Thomas."

—

An hour later, we're all sitting around the kitchen table having breakfast. Even Thomas's dad sits with us, which he basically never does. He's served us all this crab congee from the night before that he reheated. It's pretty good. He and I make eye contact and he smiles. Then he looks at Thomas.

"If you want to go to Washington, send them an email now. Say you will go."

Thomas looks up. "What?"

"I'm telling you to email the school in Washington now. It's rude that you have taken this long to decide."

Thomas doesn't say a word. He bumps the table getting up and our bowls and spoons clatter. He goes straight back to his room. He brings his laptop out and scoots his bowl aside. For the next five minutes he's just furiously typing, backspacing, checking everything over. Then he takes a breath, holds it in, hits send. Classic Thomas, all about that drama. "I'll tell BSU later," he says.

"You will tell them now," says his dad. "They will give your space to someone else."

Thomas scowls and goes back to typing. When he's done, we're all kind of just looking at each other.

"Congratulations," I say.

"Yeah," says Alfred. "Congratulations."

Thomas looks at his Dad. "Why did you change your mind?"

His dad blinks once and says, "Your mom would say go to Washington." Slowly, he gets up, takes his empty bowl over to the sink and starts rinsing it. He's quietly humming to himself.

It's a big deal for Thomas's dad to bring up his mom like that. The whole moment feels so joyful and significant that I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face to save my life. I guess I have my own private reasons to be happy about it, but we're all pretty excited. It's times like these when I feel almost like a member of the family. Almost. I find myself really wishing I was getting on that plane with them. But like I told Alfred before, that's their thing. It's not something I'm a part of.

In another hour, Thomas steers the old Lexus up the ramp to the departures deck at the airport. I'm sitting in the back seat next to Alfred. We all get out and I help them lift their bags from the trunk. I give them hugs and Thomas holds onto me for an extra half-second before letting go.

"She's yours for the week," he says. He's talking about the car.

"I'll just park it at home."

"You better not," he says. "Come on, show her a good time."