Page 40 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“You’re Grinching again.”

“Look, squirt,” I say, but the door opens and Gil walks in, hair damp from his shower at the gym and a huge smile on his face. Bubbles of happiness pop like soda fizz, and I want to giggle. I can’t look away and then I realize Remi is right behind him. Everything goes flat before Nat’s voice penetrates my brain.

“Oh my God.”

“I have to go,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile I don’t really feel.

“No, wait. I’ve seen that look on my friend Callie’s face. There’s this guy in our ELA class—”

“Bye, Nat.” I try to click the end button, but Gil rushes over.

“Hey, Nat! How’s my favorite person in the whole world?”

She giggles. God. Does every person in my family have a crush on Gil? My dad is super impressed with his ability to catch a ball. And my mom loves his manners. I’m doomed. “I knew it was you,” she says, eyes shifting over to me. Nosy sixteen-year-olds.

“Knew who was me?”

“Sorry. Gotta go.” I end our chat and Gil crunches his brows.

“Why did you do that? I wanted to tell her the joke I heard today.”

I ignore my current roommate and focus on my previous one. “Why are you always here?”

Remi studies me for a second, and I don’t squirm. Much. He smiles, but it looks devious. “Gil invited me.”

“Remi’s taking me to an art exhibit one of his friends is having.” He grabs a drink from the fridge and downs it in one go. How does he do that? And why is it so hot? I glance away. Remi raises an eyebrow at me, and I do my best to ignore him. Gil reaches around me to throw his bottle in the recycling. “I just need to change, and I’ll be ready.”

After Gil leaves the room, I turn on Remi. “Do you hate me? Is that why you guys are going out again?”

“Yeah, Columbo. This is all about you. It doesn’t have anything to do with that ridiculous list.” He gestures toward the chalkboard. The next guy on the list isArt Dude.

Heat floods my cheeks, but despite my embarrassment, I’m not letting this go. I know Remi. “Why isn’t the serious guy marked out?”

He leans against the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe I still have a shot. Instead of going to the art exhibit, maybe I should kiss him. Take him up to my apartment.”

“No.”

“You told me I was a good kisser. Oh wait,” he says, snapping his fingers, “is that why I shouldn’t? You want to be the one to kiss him?”

The memory of kissing Gil is never very far away. It’s easy to grab because it’s vibrant. Real. Life changing.

“Oh my God…”

“No.”

“You kissed him?” he says, lowering his voice. “How was it? Was it a dream come true? Did sparks fly?”

“Go away.” I pretend to work on my laptop, knowing he isn’t letting this go.

“Ouch. It’s gotta hurt that he’s still looking for someone. If you need practice kissing, I guess I could give up my time to help.”

“Fuck off, Remi.”

He salutes. “Fucking off.” Gil steps out dressed up in dark jeans and a blue shirt that looks damn good on him. I try not to drool. “And taking your boy with me.” Remi says this low enough that only I hear. Bastard.

“Ready?” Gil asks.

“Ready.” Remi turns to me and winks. “Don’t wait up, Dad.”

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