Page 57 of Dead Boys Club

He hasn’t wrapped the gift he got for Parker because they’d agreed not to get each other gifts. Or rather, Parker had insisted it would be dumb but Zach hadn’t been able to resist. He’d seen the journal at the store with his mom and sheepishly slipped it into the cart. It’s a little faux-leather black book with The Book Lover’s Reading Log embossed on its front.

Parker bounds down the hall and rounds through Zach’s open doorway. He’s holding a small, wrapped gift in one hand.

“We said we weren’t doing gifts!” Zach says, grinning as he holds up the book journal. He hands it to Parker.

“Oh, you dick,” Parker laughs. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything.” He passes Zach the wrapped gift and looks down at the journal in his hands. He flips it open, leafing through the pages.

“I thought, you know, cause you’re always reading, you can track all the books you’ve read and stuff,” Zach explains.

“Oh, man,” Parker says, still scanning the pages. He looks up and grins at Zach. “We’re so fucking gross.”

Zach gives him a quizzical look and Parker gestures to the gift, saying, “Just open it.”

Zach sits on the edge of his bed and carefully peels open the wrapping paper. The gift is a gray clothbound book, the words Backcountry Log across its cover in green. Zach opens it carefully. Inside are pages with places to log the locations of hikes and campgrounds, guides to trail etiquette and first aid, even instructions on how to hang a bear bag.

“Now you can, like, track all the nature shit you’re gonna do,” Parker tells him, teasing. He drops to sit on the bed beside Zach, pressing his knee against Zach’s. He asks, a little softer, “Do you like it?”

Zach does like it. Over and over, he’s been reminded that, despite Parker’s thorny exterior, he cares—like, so much. He goes out of his way to care. In retrospect, their trip to Saratoga feels like a love letter. And he’s right: They are so gross.

Zach leans his shoulder into Parker’s gently. “I really, really like it,” he says. “Do you like yours?”

Parker squeezes the book log in his hands. “Of course I like it,” he answers. “You’re always, like, so fucking thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Zach says, blushing. “No, I just—you like to read, so.”

Parker leans in to kiss him and Zach melts into him.

They don’t stay in his room much longer, eager to fight off Isaac’s inevitable innuendos. When they return to the kitchen, Zach’s mom has taken over putting the ingredients together while Isaac and Paige guiltily scrub eggs out of their shirts. They end up with enough cookie dough for everyone to make their own cookie. Everyone fights for the best plastic holiday cutters, and Parker uses extra dough to try and turn his Christmas tree cookie into a middle finger. The end result looks more like a penis.

Things have never been this good for Zach, pretty much ever. He has friends, a boyfriend, and a new laptop. Parker is alive and wants to be alive. Maybe all those feelings haven’t gone away with the start of their relationship, but Parker sees life as worth living. For Zach, things are starting to look pretty optimistic too.

After his friends leave and his mom goes to bed, Zach lays on the couch, watching the lights on the Christmas tree. He thinks really hard, maybe hard enough that something out there will hear him: Please stay good. Please let everything stay good, just like this.

Chapter Twenty-One

On New Year’s Eve, Zach gets another five-way phone call from the group, wherein Parker begs them all to come to the Reids’ for a New Year’s Eve party. Apparently, it’s something that the Reids host every year and Rebecca and Henry only invite their rich, old friends, so Parker and Paige never have anyone to talk to.

It’s a testament to family therapy that Parker has convinced his parents to allow Zach, Isaac, and Bea to come over at all. Paige chimes in that Cool George is coming, too, except she doesn’t call him Cool George. That’s just what Zach has been unable to stop calling him in his head.

Zach doesn’t know if he has anything nice enough to wear for a New Year’s Eve party thrown by rich people. He has exactly one blazer, and it no longer fits. He digs out a button-up and tie and puts on his nicest slacks, the special-occasion ones his mom bought him, which have actually seen very few special occasions. Zach knows that Parker and Paige won’t actually care if he dresses up, but he is newly invested in making a good impression on their parents.

Zach walks over to Isaac’s driveway after his mom has already left for her shift. She had promised to think about him exactly at midnight.

“Ugh, you look nice,” Isaac mutters. “Why are you trying to show me up in front of the Reids?”

Zach smooths down the front of his shirt under his open winter jacket. Isaac’s wearing a really garish New Year’s-themed sweater. “I’m not trying to, I just… I need the Reids to like me, so.”

“I don’t think Mr. Reid is ever going to like the guy screwing his kid,” Isaac points out, clapping Zach on the shoulder and giving him a little shake. Zach’s face burns and he doesn’t correct Isaac’s assumption. He doesn’t need to give him any more ammo for jokes.

The Reids’ house is decorated beautifully, and the adults gliding through the sitting rooms and dining room are dressed way nicer than Zach could have even hoped to dress, even with a blazer. He and Isaac find Parker, Paige, and Bea hiding in the kitchen. Bea is in a sparkly black dress, wearing her hair in fresh box braids that go from black to red ombre.

Paige is also in a black dress and stockings, and Parker looks like he’s been bullied into wearing a white button-up and black tie. This is the first time Zach’s seen him in anything other than his layers of dark clothes. His hair is even brushed and neatly parted. He looks nice.

“Holy shit,” Isaac says when he sees the twins and Bea. “Nobody told me I had to look nice.”

“I think your sweater is very festive,” Bea assures him.

“No, it’s awesome,” Parker agrees. “Did my mom look like her eyes were going to pop out of her head when she saw you?”