Page 135 of Last First Kiss

A frown pulls on Jamie’s face. He clears his throat. “One morning, my mom sat me down with a peanut butter and banana sandwich. It was my favorite.”

Jordan imagines little Jamie. Fluffy brown hair. Wide, eager eyes. Tiny crooked grin. Eating the world’s worst sandwich combo at a fancy kitchen table.

“She looked me in the eye and told me to quit being foolish.” Jamie picks at a loose thread on his comforter. “That the Peterses are above jobs like lifeguarding. We’re doctors. Or lawyers. People whomatter.”

Jordan’s fingers thread through Jamie’s hair.

“She said I needed to start thinking that way,” he says, quieter, sadder. “She wasn’t supporting a son who was anything less.”

“Fuck,” Jordan hisses. “You weren’t even ten.”

Jamie shrugs, then sighs. “My mom was great at singing me to sleep. Or kissing my bruises. But tact isn’t her strength.”

Heaviness sets into Jordan’s chest. Cheryl’s not the best cook. She’s a gossip who puts way too much effort into his love life. But she’s never said anything to crush Jordan’s dreams. Especially not at such a young age.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“It only bothered me for a few days.”

“What happened?”

“My neighbor had one of those pool birthday parties. Momdressed me in a polo shirt and nice khakis. She told me to leave my red shorts and sunglasses at home. But when I got there—”

Jamie pauses.

Jordan cranes his head to admire him. Fire flickers in those deep brown eyes.

“—the birthday boy was wearing a shark onesie! And his older sister had pink hair, a septum piercing, and a fuckingFUTURE BURGER FLIPPERT-shirt on.”

Jordan shakes with laughter.

“That’s when I realized we werekids,” Jamie says defiantly. “No one gave a shit about impressing anyone. I decided to stop caring too.”

“Bold decision for a nine-year-old.”

“Do I need to remind you I’ve always been very mature for my age?”

“Yeah, yeah. What happened after that?”

“At first,” Jamie persists, “I still did what my parents expected while secretly being myself. But once I turned thirteen? Well…”

“God, I would’ve paid money to see that,” Jordan says wistfully.

Jamie pokes his chest. “Your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Tell me something no one else knows. Not even Denz.”

Jordan ponders. His fingers continue threading through Jamie’s hair. He watches the sky go from dense charcoal to blue gray. Like the sun’s just on the other side. And Atlanta’s gradually waking up from a bad dream.

He swallows thickly. “When I was young, I had nightmares.”

Jamie tips his head back to look at him fully. “Nightmares?”

He nods. It takes him a minute to go on. Jamie gives him space. He doesn’t rush him.

Eventually, Jordan describes the big, empty house he’s never lived in. The grisly shadows that chased him down hallways. His mom and Tevin and everyone in his family missing. The letter from a dad he’s never met.