Page 30 of 12 Gays of Christmas

He places his coffee on the counter next to me and walks over to the chalkboard. I hold my breath as I wait to see what he’s going to do. Mark outHimbo? Or erase the entire board. I suddenly don’t want to know. He grabs the chalk. “Another date gone wrong,” he says, marking outHimbo. “Another day closer.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Heck no.”

The relief that floods through my body hits me harder than getting the A I expected but worried I wouldn’t get in my civics class last semester. My government class was my least favorite subject. I put it off as long as I could because I resented having to take it. Not that a B would kill me. But seeing Gil with that himbo every day might.

“Sorry it didn’t work out.”

He sits next to me at the breakfast bar. “Really?”

“Okay, no. That boy only wanted your body.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

I turn and glare, poking my finger in his chest. “You’re the one who wants more than sex, remember?”

“Only five days until Christmas.”

I want to yell and remind him he had his chance with Mr. Himbo, but something in his face—maybe his frown or his sad eyes—stops me. “Then we better get shopping.”

“I bought all my presents already,” he says, staring at his coffee.

I want to call his mom and yell at her. Who deserts their kid like that? And can’t even be bothered to be around during the holidays. His mom is the only family he has left. But he won’t appreciate me commenting on it or bitching his mom out. “Are you not listening? We aren’t shopping for presents—okay, I still need to get something for Nat—but that’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“Finding you a Christmas date to unwrap.” I wink at him, even though I’m dying a little inside.

He chews on his bottom lip and nods. “I’m in. But where are we going to find this…” He squints at the list. “…eighties music lover?”

“The mall. Of course. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you sit on Santa’s lap.”

He laughs. “Santa isn’t on my list.”

* * *

The mall is crowded.Which I should have expected since Christmas is less than a week away. But I’ve been lulled by the now-empty campus into thinking that is the norm. Even though I know better.

I focus on Nat first. Helping Gil shop for guys might throw me off, so I need to get my sister’s gift taken care of first.

“She loves Manga,” Gil says as we skim the mall directory. During the last video chat I had with Nat, she insisted on talking to Gil so she could show him the latest in her collection. “What else does she like? Did she give you a list?”

I pull out the crumpled piece of paper. It’s also on my phone, but I like having something to cross off. “Books, clothes—not happening—and money. Also not happening.” I hand the list to Gil.

“Is this the same list she gave your mom and dad?”

“Yeah, but you can see what she added for me.” I lean close to Gil and point to the bottom. The scent of his body wash is hard to resist. I want to recreate the kiss we shared and so much more. Helping him find someone else is torture.

“What about the new Taylor Swift biography that just came out? Remember when she was going on about it?”

I stare at him in shock. He remembers a conversation with my sister that happened over a month ago. How is he real? And how can I even think about doing something that would risk losing him? He turns when I don’t say anything, and our eyes meet. The mall ceases to exist as Gil licks his lips and my eyes follow. I want the promise in his eyes. Something—no, someone—bangs into me, knocking me into Gil. My hands reach out instinctively and land on his chest. His arms hold me up, and I don’t want him to let go. It’s a good thing he’s busy glaring at the guy who bumped into us. Otherwise, he might see the truth I’m struggling to hide.

“People are jerks,” he says, throwing the words out at the guy who is already lost in the mass of bodies. “Are you okay?”

I nod, extracting myself from his arms and keeping my face impassive. “Let’s try the bookstore.”

We don’t make it to the bookstore. The music store comes first, and I pull on Gil’s jacket, needing to suddenly get this over with. “But what about Nat?”

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