The Art of Being a F*ck Up

20. Eighteen Again

December's almost over, and so too is our break, yet even in the dead of winter the sun continues to shine. The holidays were great, we all had a lot of fun, but this morning marked the beginning of everything going back to how it was. It's a beautiful day today, one I can still enjoy before that happens as I emerge from taking my final make-up exam. I won't know how I did for a while but that's okay, I have so much more confidence now than I did last time and it didn't feel terribly overwhelming. It wasn't perfect, I'll admit, but it was better, and I can't stress how important that is, especially since I'm told it only gets easier from here. That'll be nice, but right now it's not what I'm looking forward to most.

"You look happy. I take it that means it went well?" Jonah greets me with a kiss. He didn't really suspect much when I asked him along for support, though that might just be because he's been working just as hard on being more attentive. And yeah, okay, I may be trying to pull a fast one on him, but that doesn't mean I still don't love having him here to personally cheer me on—something I demonstrate as I slip my tongue into his mouth. When he steps back after a minute he looks flustered in the best way.

"Well it must've, because they totally thought I was cheating." My hand lingers on his face, my palm gently cupping his cheek as if I'll go in for another kiss. Hell I might, I've earned it, there's a lot to celebrate today.

"That good, huh?" He inches closer, pressing into my touch affectionately. "I'm so proud of you, Brent. I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but it looks like we owe one to Madison. Do you think we should get her something?"

"Don't worry about it, she's already made it perfectly clear what she wants." I joke, well aware of her price, and the debt I now owe her. Maybe things will work out with her online fling who has the great abs, who knows, but today is not about that—not about her. I lean in to kiss the corner of Jonah's mouth, barely breathing the words. "Besides, we don't really want to be thinking about Maddy right now, do we?"

"No, I guess not." Like always he takes my cue, his fingers creeping up the back of my neck while he bites his lip. "How about we head home instead and I can show you just how proud I really am. I'll even do that thing you like."

"Fuck, if I'd known that I might have passed my exams the first time around," though he makes a tempting offer, I've already put my plan in place and I can't back out of it now. I already knew I wouldn't, but I figured I might get nervous and at least think of chickening out, but I haven't. All I have is conviction. "But why don't we save that for later? Lilah already loaned us the car, I thought we could make a day of it."

"Sounds like fun, did you have something in mind?" Romance is worth just as much to Jonah as sex—probably more—and I can't say I disagree. He manages to cool off easily as he throws both arms around my neck instead, looking at me with that same unsuspecting trust while waiting for his answer.

"As a matter of fact, I do. But it's a surprise." The hand I offer comes with a question, one I don't get a chance to ask before he takes it without a moment to lose. Of course he trusts me, probably more than anyone else, and having that kind of faith makes all of this feel more right than it already did. There is no doubt, only excitement as I lead Jonah over to the car.

It proves to be a familiar drive for him at first—he would know the way back to the house from anywhere. It's where he grew up, it'll always be his home, and he alights with the joy from seeing all the Christmas decorations still up as we drive casually passed them. I don't take him home though, no, I take him to the first stop on the adventure I've planned. It's another place I'm sure he could get to from anywhere, one that I know holds its own incomparable meaning in the back of his mind—one he'll never forget.

It's the little park nearest his house, not much further than a stone's throw from the end of his street. What wonderful memories he had made here with his dad—memories he so eagerly shared with me—of how they would come here together when he was a kid. Of course that was before they lost each other, and then found each other again. Now it holds a different kind of specialness for him; the look on his face shows that he feels it too as we get out and start a walk that is just as familiar as the drive had been.