Page 11 of Ripe & Ready
I’m exhausted.
I flew halfway across the world, woke up at the crack of dawn, watched gorillas eat bugs off each other, visited a tiny village in the middle of the Congo, and accidentally told my best friend I love him.
This place doesn’t mess around.
My body hurts, my brain’s barely functioning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been sweating nonstop since the airport. But Derek? Derek’s still going. Still cheerful. Still acting like I didn’t unload a full emotional confession in the middle of an African supermarket.
He’s flipping through photos on his phone, humming to himself, completely unfazed. Meanwhile, I’m over here in the corner trying to remember how to exist.
Jesus Fuck. I just remembered there’s still only one bed.
Right as we reach the door to our cabin, Derek spins around, phone in hand.
“I forgot to show you this.”
It’s a photo of me. Caught in profile, staring up at Calliope, and the look on my face? God. I barely recognize it.
In the moment, I remember feeling anxious. Nervous. Unsteady. But in the photo, I look calm. Curious. Like I belong. Like I’m not waiting for the ground to give out beneath me.
“I love this one,” Derek says.
He hands me the phone and turns to unlock the door. I stay frozen for a second, eyes on the screen, the weight of it hitting me in full.
Maybe it’s the mess of feelings I’ve been carrying, but this doesn’t feel random. This isn’t just a picture. It’s the kind of photo that only someone who really sees you can take. Someone who knows what matters. Someone who knows you.
Suddenly his reaction back at the market doesn’t feel like dismissal at all. It’s insane to think, but it’s possible love doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or a big dramatic moment. Maybe it really is that easy between us.
Looking at the photo he quietly snapped when I wasn’t paying attention and seeing myself calm and content and seen in that way, I feel something I don’t usually let myself feel.
Brave.
Braver than I’ve ever felt, maybe. I let that carry me forward, across the wood plank walkway and through the door to our room. I shut it behind me with a soft click, and before I can stop myself, I let it go.
“I meant what I said.”
Derek shrugs off his shirt, muscles on full display, and drops it with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” he laughs. “You’ve said a lot today.”
Fuck him.
Fuck him for being easy. For being sweet. For tossing out lines like that. Half tease, half truth that somehow still manage to make me tingle all over like I’m hearing a love song for the first time.
I’m losing my resolve, second-guessing everything, wondering if I’m about to make a complete fool of myself.
He slides off his shoes and ambles toward me, eyes searching.
“Spit it out, Andy.”
I swallow. “In the village… I said I love you and I guess I need you to know I meant it.”
He looks at me with a calm so complete it feels like a wall.
I start to panic. “Obviously I appreciate you, and I’m glad you’re my friend, and you make me feel... weirdly good just by being near me, which is honestly kind of rude, because some of us are trying to function like normal people.”
I huff out a nervous laugh, but it’s thin.
“But it’s also… it’s more than that. Like, I wanna kiss you. I wanna wake up next to you. I wanna see if there’s a version of this where I’m not quietly pining from the sidelines like some tragic gay background character.”
