Candy Gram ✓

chapter ten

I'm sorry, I text him. Let me make it up to you.

I don't know, he says back immediately. Almost like he was waiting for it. It would have been fine if you just didn't get it, but it really hurt me that you treated me like that today.

I shove another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth and blink back the tears. I'm horrible - and I ruined his precious surprise on top of everything else.

I'm hating myself for eating this ice cream right now, but at the same time, I can't not. Because, stress.

I get that, I say. I really really do. But PLEASE let me make it up to you.

Can you, though? Seriously - this was super hard for me, okay? Only some of my friends knew that I was gay, Nick. I wanted to come out to you with this, because I really freaking liked you. And then you made me feel awful this morning. Like, I get it. Maybe you had a tough morning or something, but I seriously can say the same.

I'm sorry, I say again. I'm horrible. Could I call you? I want to talk with you in person.

The phone isnt in person. And also I'm on the road to Sirina MacLellan's party, and I don't want to distract my friends.

God. Sirina's party - I completely forgot.

I get it. And I'll talk to you in person tonight.

Oh will you now? I can't tell what tone I'm supposed to read with that.

....My imaginary surprise rules only tell me that I can say yes.

Then I call Sirina.

My back row of seats is way fuller than it usually is, and I'm feeling pretty jittery as I pull onto one of the gravel roads leading to the MacLellan's ranch. I went there once for a New Year party - it was wretched; the barn was too warm. And the loft, as you'd expect, was the hottest. So, I was just a sweaty mess.

Today, I've come prepared not for the heat, but to look nice. (There's also about an inch of deodorant on my person, so take from that what you will.) I've got this light-green button-up on, as well as some nicer, dressier pants, because why not?

The road isn't too busy (please, it's not busy at all; there are just rabbits all-freaking-over) - I know I'll be kind of late, but it'll be worth it. It has to be.

I text Sirina when I pull up on the lawn, gingerly stepping in snow in my sneakers. (Every steps crunches with an echo of frigid regret.) Its redy, she assures me.

Thank you, I tell her.

Anytime, is her response.

The party appears to be in full swing; there are a few kids out back with smoke swirling around them, laughing. I don't know if they're vaping or just smoking - and I don't care to. Instead, I follow the sound of booming AJR and enter the barn.

It cleans up pretty nice, actually. I know that Sirina will have the loft closed up - it usually a hormonal free-for-all, so I'm really appreciative of her reserving it. It's pretty vital to my required big gesture, so . . . here goes nothing, I guess.

Edward weaves through the small crowd (there's less grinding here than I'd anticipated, so, yay) as if he'd been waiting to just appear out of nowhere. "Hey," he says, "your lover is over by the tire swing."

I grin and, with my free hand, reach out and squeeze his hand. He smiles wryly. "Get out of here, you basic cow," he says, turning me around and sending me off with a nice slap on the butt. "I expect that ice cream coupon back."