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“Picture this, Olive. Early two thousands. Preppy, ridiculously expensive all-male DC school. Two gay students in grade twelve. Well, two of us that were out, anyway. Richie Muller and I date for the entirety of senior year—and then he dumps me three days before prom for some guy he’d been having a thing with for months.”
“He was a prick,” Adam muttered.
“I have three choices. Not go to the dance and mope at home. Go alone and mope at school. Or, have my best friend—who was planning on staying home and moping over gamma-aminobutyric acids—come as my date. Guess which?”
Olive gasped. “How did you convince him?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t. When I told him about what Richie did, he offered!”
“Don’t get used to it,” Adam mumbled.
“Can you believe it, Olive?”
That Adam would pretend to be in a relationship with someone to get them out of a miserable situation? “Nope.”
“We held hands. We slow-danced. We made Richie spit out his punch and regret every single one of his wretched choices. Then we went home and played even more Final Fantasy. It was the shit.”
“It was surprisingly fun,” Adam conceded, almost reluctantly.
Olive looked at him, and a realization dawned on her: Holden was Adam’s Anh. His person. It was obvious that Adam and Tom were very close, too, but the relationship Adam had with Holden was something else, and . . . and Olive had no idea what to do with this piece of information.
Maybe she should tell Malcolm. He’d either have a field day or go completely berserk.
“Well,” Holden said, standing up. “This was fantastic. I’ll go get coffee, but we should hang out soon, the three of us. I can’t remember the last time I had the pleasure of embarrassing Adam in front of a girlfriend. For now, though, he’s all yours.” He followed the word “yours” with a smirk that had Olive blushing.
Adam rolled his eyes when Holden left for the coffee counter. Fascinated, Olive followed him with her gaze for several moments. “Um, that was . . . ?”
“Holden for you.” Adam seemed barely annoyed.
She nodded, still a little dazed. “I can’t believe I’m not your first.”
“My first?”
“Your first fake date.”
“Right. I guess prom qualifies.” He seemed to mull it over. “Holden has had some . . . bad luck with relationships. Undeserved bad luck.”
It warmed her chest, the protective concern in his tone. Made her wonder if he was even aware of it.
“Did he and Tom ever . . . ?”
He shook his head. “Holden would be outraged if he knew you asked.”
“Why doesn’t he want to drive Tom to the airport, then?”
Adam shrugged. “Holden has always had a very deep, very irrational dislike of Tom, ever since grad school.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Not sure. Not sure Holden knows, either. Tom says he’s jealous. I think it’s just a personality thing.”
Olive fell silent, absorbing the information. “You didn’t tell Holden about us, either. That it’s not real.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Adam looked away. “I don’t know.” His jaw tensed. “I think I just didn’t . . .” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head before giving her a smile, small and a little forced. “He speaks very highly of you, you know?”
