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“You were so cute, oh my dear baby Jesus.” I couldn’t help but say “aww” through most of the pages. I noticed that Beckham’s dad barely showed up in any of the photos, but that may have been just because he was always behind the camera. His mom, on the other hand, showed up in almost every photo. She had a big head of light brown hair that was always curled and cut perfectly, framing her bright face every time she gave it to the camera.
“Look at you two,” I said, stopping on a photo of Beckham and his mom roller-skating in a park. They were wearing the coolest of eighties fashion, with neon wristbands and high-waisted jeans. I turned the page and there was another photo of the same day, but this one showed Beckham going headfirst into a bush and his mom laughing in the most photogenic way possible.
I flipped to the next page and the mood suddenly shifted. There, on the center of the page, was a Polaroid. Beckham looked like a kid, but his hair was already growing those silver strands that I loved so much now. He must have just been entering his teens, but he was tall, almost as tall as his father, who stood next to him, an arm around his son’s shoulder, a smile on both their faces.
They looked happy. I could see the resemblance between them. They had the same eyes and the same lips. Beckham had his mom’s nose, but he definitely had his dad’s chin.
Beckham put his hand under mine, under the cover of the album. He closed the photo album and grabbed it from my hands. “Sorry, Olly. I think I’m calling it for the night.”
“Right, no, of course.”
I could tell his thoughts had scattered into the wind the second he saw that photo. There was stress in his face, a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there.
Beckham placed the album back in the box. He nodded into the house. I followed him inside and to his bedroom. We crawled into bed and into each other’s arms.
“You okay?” I asked into the crook of Beckham’s neck. I could feel him breathing against me.
“Yeah, I am. That photo was taken a week before I came out. Before everything in my life changed for good.”
I moved up on the bed, setting my head on his arm, looking through the darkness of his bedroom and into the light of his eyes. “Before it changedforthe good. You would have been trapped if you didn’t come out. Your life would have been so much worse.”
“I know. And I’m happy now, with you. I’m more than happy. I feel like I won the lottery ten times over. And I know that my past led me to this, to you. So I’m okay with it.”
I couldn’t hold back the kiss. I didn’t want to.
“I love you so freaking much, Beck.”
He kissed me again. His hand came to rest on the back of my head. His thumb drew circles, something he knew turned me into melted candy.
“I love you, too,” he said. “Deadass.”
I couldn’t stop the snort.
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER
The Florida sunwas shielded by thick black clouds that sat low in the sky. Half of my block was thrown under a dark and ominous shade, the other being belted by a resilient strip of sunshine that found a break in the clouds. There would be thunder and lightning soon. There were already some bright bolts of white off in the distance, the storm coming in from the ocean after hoarding energy from the warm waters.
I sat in my car looking at my apartment like it was about to grow legs and do the cha-cha slide for me. I had slept at Beckham’s place for the last three nights, not feeling safe in my own apartment after everything that had happened. I had spoken to the police, but they said they needed more evidence before they could go ahead with an arrest. Beckham was working hard to find that evidence, but until then, Juan was out there and he knew that we were onto him. I felt sure that he had been the one threatening me, most likely goaded by his older brother, who I was sure still harbored his homophobic hatred toward me. He had to have been the second person that night. The one that stayed silent during the entire thing, but left his mark nonetheless.
Meanwhile, Mason and Jar were running out of food at Beckham’s place, so I had to make a quick stop back at mine and pick up some more. I considered just going to the pet store, but there was an entire cabinet of food for them and it felt like a waste.
I still didn’t want to go in, though.
So I decided to FaceTime my brother instead.
He picked up on the second ring. My brother’s smiling face filled up the screen.
“Hey, Jojo,” I said.
“Hi, Olly.”
“Where are you?” I could see a line of people behind him.
“At the movies with Fox. We’re celebrating our last interview of the day.” He tilted the camera up, showing me the glowing marquee, a few drops of rain falling down onto the camera. Jonah moved under some shelter and wiped off the camera. He turned it to Fox, who gave me a wave and a friendly “hey.”
“How’d the interviews go?” I asked when my brother got back on the camera.
