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“He’s not—”
“He is. He’s hurting you and he doesn’t even realize it.”
Nick couldn’t exactly deny that.
Adam abandoned Gabriel’s room and moved to Nick’s doorway. “Can I go in?”
Nick nodded and followed.
But Adam stopped short. Nick knew what he’d spotted without even seeing around him. “What’s with the air mattress?”
“Hunter sleeps there. He’s my temporary roommate.”
“You didn’t say you had a roommate.”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t really think about it.” He smiled.
“Jealous?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be. He’s going through some stuff with his mom.”
Nick paused and stepped around him to turn on the light. “He’s also Gabriel’s best friend.”
Adam pulled out the desk chair and straddled it backward, leaning his arms on the back. “Then why doesn’t he room with Gabriel?”
Nick shrugged and dropped onto the end of his bed. “I have more floor space. Gabriel and I used to share this room, until . . .
well, until we didn’t have to anymore.”
Until his parents had died, and Michael finally got around to cleaning out the master bedroom. It hadn’t happened right away. Two years had passed before any of them felt like changing around the sleeping arrangements.
Gabriel had been eager for his own space. Nick hadn’t wanted him to go.
And now the tables were turned, with a drawer full of college letters offering him a way out of this house. Maybe out of this town.
“So serious,” said Adam quietly. “What’s rolling around in your head?”
Nothing he wanted to talk about. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Adam paused, then unwound himself from the chair to join Nick on the end of the bed. He found Nick’s hand and threaded their fingers together.
Then he said, “Are you still hoarding a stack of unopened mail?”
“Yeah.”
“Why haven’t you opened them? What are you afraid of?”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Adam hesitated. “I don’t think that’s true. You know.”
He was right. Nick did know. Opening those letters would force him to make a choice. A decision about where his life was going.
A decision about staying or leaving.
“It’s so different for you,” Nick said. “You know you want to be a dancer. You know you’re good at it. I want—I—I don’t know.”
