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Black rubber on pavement. There was something different about the way the bicycle felt beneath Thomas’ adult body.
He was twenty-three this year and the bike he bought when he was fifteen felt strange under his hands. They were no longer calloused and scarred like they were when he was sliding across the pavement after a particularly nasty fall off the halfpipe. Now they were untouched, used to the safety of only being used on a keyboard or phone screen.
The cool breeze from the Atlantic brushed across his face, making locks of hair flick backward from his face. He stood still on the pedals as the bike slowed from its previous momentum. Instead of pushing forward again, he leaned gently to the left and scraped the bottom of his sneakers on the wooden planks of the boardwalk.
Funland was always closed this time of year and the arcade always looked eerie and haunting that way. No one was braving the snowy beach and cold air of the boardwalk in December. The last time he was on this boardwalk, it was filled with people - both locals and tourists. They’d walk barefoot from the beach, dragging sand with them into the arcade. Parents would sit at plastic tables with plastic cups adorned with little umbrellas to match the bigger ones shading them from the sun. He also recalled that the last time he was on this boardwalk, he had been surrounded by his friends - friends he hadn’t seen for some time. One name in particular stood out in his head as he remembered the way they’d crowd around one of the benches, tossing fries at each other or snapping polaroids.
Now it was quiet and empty. It was nothing like LA, and while he had only been there for two years, it was starting to feel more like home than Rehoboth, Delaware ever had.
Some things hadn’t changed, of course. Seeing the mailbox decorated with a Santa hat and a bag of chocolate kisses dangling from it for the postman was something Thomas remembered starkly from childhood. The silver Honda CR-V with antlers and a red nose, the sign sticking out of the frosted grass that read “Santa Claus Lane,” and - of course - Bruce Springsteen’s christmas song blaring from the living room stereo loud enough to be audible through the closed windows. His mom would play his live rendition of the song about twenty times per day, just in case anyone forgot that they were on the East Coast.
Thomas leaned his bike on the edge of the house and headed inside through the garage, foregoing the front door in favor of reaching the kitchen faster and avoiding the hundred-decibel warning that Santa Claus was, in fact, coming to town.
“Oh, sweetheart, great, you’re home,” his mom said, donning an apron and oven mitt and frowning at the sauce in front of her. “Can you grab the foil from the garage and start making the bells?”
Thomas stared at the back of her head. “You know the song is restarting right?”
“What?” his mom asked, distracted by the stove.
“Where’s Chuck? Doesn’t he like to make the bells?”
“He’s out with your father getting wine.”
“I could’ve gotten the wine.”
“Thomas-” she waved her hands agitatedly.
Thomas knew the gesture - she was busy, he wasn’t complying with her schedule, and a minimum of fifteen guests were on the horizon. He accepted his loss with dignity and spent the next hour and a half sitting at the kitchen table folding squares of foil around chunks of dough and molding them into silver bells. By the time the garage door opened again, Thomas found himself singing along to Springsteen.
“Ay! Tommy!”
“Hey dad.” Thomas pushed up from the table to give his dad a hug.
“S’up, dickhead?” Chuck greeted from behind their dad.
“ Hey!” their mom protested, spinning at the oven. “It’s Christmas. We’re not doing this language you picked up at school.”
“That’s where I picked it up,” Chuck mumbled as he bumped his fist to Thomas’.
Chuck had grown since Thomas had last seen him. Having left for the West Coast when Chuck was sixteen, seeing him as a grown eighteen-year-old was both bizarre and a bit sad.
“Aw man, you did the bells?” Chuck asked, picking one up from the tray and inspecting it.
Thomas laughed and handed him the roll of foil. “You can finish up.”
Chuck sat down and got started right away, and Thomas found he was glad that was another thing that hadn’t changed. “Mom, I’m changing the music.”
“What?” she called out from practically inside the oven.
Thomas walked over to the living room and flipped the 5-CD stereo his mom still insisted on using until he found some generic Christmas hits CD.
“So, how’s Hollywood?” his dad asked, taking a seat in the recliner.
Thomas lowered the volume of the music a bit. “Not bad,” he shrugged. “Alby’s got a few offers we need to wrap up on right after the holidays. Clint and Jeff got their show renewed.”
His dad nodded, eyes on the muted Sportscenter recap of some football game. His dad had always been supportive of his job (once he started getting paid, of course) but he’d never fully understood it. Thomas chalked it up to generation gaps. “So, any lucky ladies? Or anyone?”
That was another thing he chalked up to generation gaps. Since he’d come out to his family last year, his dad had found it difficult to say the word “men” - or any iteration - when it came to Thomas’ dating life. It wasn’t that he was necessarily against it, but there was a level of discomfort or confusion there that Thomas couldn’t be bothered to push.
Either way, it really didn’t matter when every year Thomas’ answer was the same: “Nope,” he said, falling down to the couch and snagging a Hershey’s Kiss from the table just to have something to do with his hands.
“That’s alright.”
They watched some more muted football while Kelly Clarkson supplied the soundtrack, and then his mom was shoo-ing both of them out to the street to shift the three family cars that had been holding multiple parking spots for the guests.
By five o’clock, everyone began trickling in. Thomas stood by the tree with his cousin’s three-year-old daughter on his hip as she stared mesmerized at a glittering ornament. Brenda was talking his ear off about Gally’s insistence that they trade in their Subaru for something ridiculous that Thomas didn’t quite catch because the door opened then and suddenly his chest felt concave as he saw Newt for the first time in two years.
He walked in a bit mechanically, a touch of awkwardness sprinkled in that everyone tends to feel when they walk into someone’s house that they don’t typically spend time in. Newt had known Thomas’ family for what felt like forever, but that wouldn’t make it any less weird being a twenty-four year old boy walking into your neighbor’s house.
Newt’s family had moved here just at the end of grade school and Newt was the new kid in an eighth grade graduating class of one hundred kids who’d known each other since they were chewing erasers. But Newt had an accent and was from another country - and that made him cool. He was also Thomas’ neighbor, which meant that he and Thomas became inseparable, spending summers racing their bicycles around the cul-de-sac until they were finally allowed to ride to the pier.
They meandered through high school together easily enough - but it was there that things started to splinter. It wasn’t just bike rides for them anymore, but navigating social cues - what was cool and not cool for a teenage boy to do, first kisses, first dates, first everythings.
There was also the fateful day in the backyard underneath a tent where Newt had come out to Thomas. The memory lodged itself in the very back of Thomas’ mind and he rarely poked at it, trying to avoid the uncomfortable pit in his stomach. There was always something about that moment that didn’t quite sit right with Thomas.
Newt’s eyes found Thomas’ and brightened. He lifted his chin in greeting and then was immediately pulled into a hug by Thomas’ mom.
Thomas bit down on any nerves that threatened to surface. After finally realizing and accepting that he was also attracted to other men, Thomas had decided that when he was home, he would come out to Newt. He’d rehearsed it quite a few times, and each time over the last few weeks came out different, better. He almost had the perfect, succinct speech. It was a quick three sentences, maybe four if he decided to split one of them up. He just had to tweak a word here and there. He needed a thesaurus for just a few minutes.
Newt looked back over to them and started walking over.
Thomas nervously bounced little Nellie on his hip.
“Want me to take her?” Brenda said, shoving the rest of a pretzel in her mouth and gesturing with her hands.
Thomas turned and handed her off, trying to mentally prepare for the most casual unrehearsed greeting ever.
“Hey,” Newt said, hands shoved in his pockets and flicking his gaze between Thomas and Brenda.
“Newt, buddy, what is up?” Thomas asked, holding his arms out for a hug, or possibly to flag down Santa’s sleigh.
Newt’s brows tilted upwards just a hint, but he was a good sport about it and leaned in, giving Thomas a single-armed hug, complete with two pats on the back.
Thomas stepped backwards to stare at the floor and contemplate death while Newt and Brenda greeted each other with a casual and very normal kiss on the cheek, and then Newt cooed Nellie for a moment.
“So how’s the west coast?” Newt asked, still looking at Nellie and playing with her tiny wrist.
“Uh, good,” Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it’s been nice. Warm. I like it there.”
“I’d hope so,” Newt laughed, finally looking at Thomas. “Imagine staying in a place you hate for two years?”
Thomas didn’t really know how to answer that, so he gestured to Newt’s coat instead. “Do you need-? I can-?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Newt pulled the scarf off and then shrugged out of the long, gray coat.
Thomas took the coat and then used it to point at the stairs. “I’m gonna…” He moved forward past Newt and Brenda, collected two more coats from Newt’s mother and sister, and then jogged up the stairs.
He tossed the coats on his mom and dad’s bed with the pile of others, and then ran his hands down his face. It really shouldn’t be so awkward reconnecting with Newt. Yes, they hadn’t seen each other in two years, but they still followed each other on social media. He’d seen the three pictures Newt had posted in that entire time. Admittedly, the framed art piece, him silhouetted against a lake, and a picture of some tree didn’t really explain much of what he’d been up to, but they caught up occasionally. They liked each other’s pictures.
He knew that Newt was working at some art appraisal company or something. He knew that Newt was still living somewhere in Delaware. And he knew that Newt was most likely single.
So, maybe he didn’t know as much as he thought.
But he had good reasons for his thoughts. Mostly, because he wanted his thoughts to be right.
An hour later, he found himself downstairs again and seated at the dining table with some scattered family members, listening to a political conversation he didn’t quite feel like being a part of. He stared at the table cloth, vision swimming in and out of focus as his thoughts wandered away from a debate that his backwoods uncle most certainly should not have had a voice in.
He started once again going over what he wanted to say to Newt. He thought about possibly offering to go on a walk before dinner. He wasn’t sure of the weather, but if they bundled up enough…
He felt a tap at his back that pulled him from his thoughts and turned to find Newt, Gally and Brenda behind him. Newt nodded toward the hallway and Thomas gratefully pushed away from the table and followed them to the laundry room.
It was more of a small closet - narrow with just enough space for one person to fit between the machines and the opposite wall, however it was long and went back far enough for the side-by-side washer/dryer set and then a bit more space for some plastic storage bins. It was a tight fit, but it was also enough for Newt to sit on the dryer, Gally and Brenda to sit on a storage bin, and Thomas to sit on a bin across from them next to the hot water heater.
It had become their Family Party Sanctuary.
Thomas thought it could be a nice place for some privacy later, and he filed it away for a possible post-dinner-coming-out.
Gally pulled two beers from the six-pack and held them up in question. Thomas shook his head, but Brenda and Newt each took one gratefully. Gally let out a long breath. “Is it me or do these things just start to feel longer every year?”
Thomas shrugged. “I’ve stopped watching the clock because I’m convinced it doesn’t move.”
“So,” Newt said suddenly and shifted where he sat, “on that topic. I actually talked to my parents already and I’m leaving after dinner.”
Thomas’ brows dipped in confusion at the same time that Gally asked why.
“Minho and Fry are heading over to that little Christmas festival over by Douglas Ave to meet up with Teresa and Aris. They’re in town for the weekend, too. They figured,” he paused and looked at Thomas, “since you were also in town, we could all meet up. Mini reunion of sorts.”
“Oh,” Thomas said, a bit taken aback by the idea of being in the same place as Teresa and Aris. Their’s was not quite such an amicable breakup and being around his ex all night and her new boyfriend wasn’t exactly fitting into his coming-out-to-his-best-friend-and-long-time-crush plan.
“I mean, unless you want to stay here with your Uncle Mitchell,” Newt said, mouth curling into a smile around the lip of the beet bottle.
Thomas’ brain glitched for a moment before he remembered he should be responding. “No, yeah. Yeah. No, I’ll go. I’ll go.”
Brenda snorted.
“Great, so it’s settled,” Gally said, slapping his hands on his thighs in an eerie similarity to his dad. “The festival after dinner.”
Brenda stared at him. “And what would you like to do with our daughter?”
Gally shrugged. “Bring her. Or leave her with Aunt Mary,” he said, gesturing to Thomas. “She’d love to hang with her niece.”
“You’re terrible,” Brenda sighed, shaking her head.
Thomas knew that when it came down to it, the two of them would end up leaving Nellie with his mom and they would, in fact, join for a night out with their friends. He wondered if they’d also like to rent out a stage where he could publicly just come out to everyone at once.
Just then, the door banged open and the four of them look up to find Sonya, Newt’s sister, charging into the comically small space of the laundry room and staring at them all. The door slowly swung shut and amplified the silence.
Bruce Springsteen sang mutedly through the walls.
Newt slowly attempted a question. “Wha-”
“Why did you leave me out there?!” she hissed.
Newt blinked at her, mouth still open over the unfinished question.
“I was just sitting out there the whole time getting ogled by Chuck! No offense, Thomas,” she added quickly.
Thomas held his hands up in a silent nothing to do with me gesture.
“We’re going over to the Christmas Festival after dinner,” Brenda said, leaning forward to look past Gally. “Why don’t you come with us?”
Sonya switched her gaze over to Brenda. She waited for a moment and then seemed to deflate from her earlier agitation. “Sure, yeah, that sounds fun. But I’m staying in here with you guys until then.”
“Sure,” Brenda laughed. She tapped Gally on the arm. “Get up so Sonny can sit.”
“What? Why do I have to get up? Make Newt get up, it’s his sister.”
“Gally, just get up,” she said, smacking his elbow a bit harder this time.
Gally sighed and hopped down from the bin to let Sonya take his place. He glanced at Thomas and then gestured with his arm. “Move.”
“Fuck you,” Thomas laughed.
“Come on, move. I gotta sit, my back hurts from work.”
“So start lifting with your legs.”
Gally sighed and walked to the other side of Newt to hop up on the washer instead.
“There,” Brenda said, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Was that so hard?”
“What?” he asked back flatly. “I can’t hear you from all the way down here.”
Brenda rolled her eyes and sat back again.
“Anyway, what’s new with you?” Sonya said, nodding at Thomas. “I didn’t think we were seeing you this year.”
Thomas frowned. “Why not?”
Sonya laughed and looked at the others before she focused on him again. “I mean, you missed the last two years, why would you come this year?”
Thomas flinched internally.
“Sonny,” Newt said, tapping her arm with his. “Leave him alone, he was busy with work.”
“On Christmas?” Sonya laughed.
Thomas shifted in his seat and pretended not to see the way Newt’s leg swung a bit to the left to kick at his sister’s. Clearly this night was going to go swimmingly. Hey Newt (and everyone else too, apparently), I know we haven’t hung out in two years, which your sister so clearly pointed out in case we forgot, but in that time I realized I’ve had a major crush on you. Any chance you’ve also been harboring long time feelings for your seemingly straight friend who you previously would have assumed you’d never have a chance with???
“Thomas?”
Thomas rocked his focus back to the present. “I was able to get the time off,” he said, putting an air of casualness in his voice. “Plus, no snow storms or weather issues so flights were easy to come by. Also, my family helped pay for it. Well my mom did. Anyway, it worked out.”
“And that’s all that matters,” Newt nodded and then shot Sonya another hard look.
“How’s school been?” Thomas asked her, eager to change the subject from himself.
“Hell,” she answered flatly.
“It’s your last year though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but all that means is I only have a few more months to finish all of my work. This dissertation is exhausting.”
“What do you have to do for it?” Brenda asked.
Sonya turned to answer her, but Thomas glanced back over at Newt.
Sorry, Newt mouthed, nodding toward Sonya.
It’s fine, Thomas laughed, shrugging.
Newt mouthed something else that Thomas couldn’t quite catch. He shrugged at him, confused.
“What?” Gally asked loudly. “What’s happening?”
Thomas and Newt snapped their gazes to him along with Sonya and Brenda.
Gally pointed between Thomas and Newt. “What happened?”
Thomas and Newt stared at each other, dumbfounded.
“Er,” Newt started, tilting his head.
“Off in their own world again probably,” Brenda sighed. She turned back to Sonya. “Anyway, go on.”
Gally mumbled something else about not being able to hear anything from his seat, but Thomas barely paid attention, more focused on the quiet laugh he and Newt shared. It was starting to feel like he’d never left at all, and maybe there was hope for his plan after all.
By eight o’clock, dinner was finally over and presents were exchanged. By eight-thirty, the five of them were already in their Uber on the way to the Christmas Festival.
It’s not like Rehoboth, Delaware was exactly known for their Christmas Festival. It was the length of three small street blocks with tinny music playing from speakers, Christmas lights adorning every surface they could, and a massive amount of Rehoboth residents who didn’t know how else to spend Christmas Eve. Thomas figured he shouldn’t exactly judge people for being there. He was there just the same as them.
They walked throughout the street, eyeing the small stands perched on either side selling small local trinkets. Handmade jewelry here, homemade moonshine there, and canned spiced peaches just past that.
But all the way at the end of the three-block festival was a large pond that would get frozen over each year. It was a shallow enough pond that the city board allowed ice skating for a three-week period each year. They’d solidify and treat the ice, and there were several EMTs from town who would hang around on the off chance the ice cracked for the first time in ten years.
This is where the five of them finally ran into Minho, Frypan, Teresa, and Aris.
Thomas flinched back as Brenda and Teresa slammed into each other in a giant embrace. He casually reached an arm out to Minho and the two exchanged a quick hug.
“Fry!!” Gally yelled in an over dramatic voice.
“GALLY!”
A second later, Frypan and Gally were running toward each other in a huge, dramatic embrace.
“You’re so annoying,” Brenda said, slapping Gally on the arms that were wrapped tightly around Frypan’s neck.
“Let me see, let me see, let me see!!” Sonya said suddenly, hopping in place and gesturing at Teresa with her hands.
Teresa laughed shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, but then she tugged a gray cotton glove off of her left hand and held it out to Sonya.
Thomas looked over, curiously, and felt his stomach flip. The ring was a thin gold band with a square-shaped diamond sparkling from the center.
“Ohhhh my gosh,” Sonya said, jumping even more.
“It’s beautiful,” Brenda said, huddling up next to her.
“Congrats, mate,” Newt said, holding a fist out to Aris.
Thomas stiffly held a fist out to Aris and then mechanically gave Teresa a hug. His ears rang loud enough that he couldn’t quite catch the words criss-crossing around their small circle, so he took a small, subtle step back to breathe in the cool air.
It wasn’t that he was still in love with Teresa on any level, and it’s not that he really missed her in any romantic way, but it was the sting of finding out this way when the others apparently seemed to know. Teresa wasn’t on social media, she was very anti-Instagram, etc. for as long as Thomas could remember. There was no way to follow updates on her life unless he reached out and asked someone about it, and that never seemed like something he’d ever want to do.
He was starting to get that sinking feeling again like he’d missed out on the important parts of his own life.
“Alright, well let’s go!” Minho said, clapping his hands together. “We skating or what?”
“Oh,” Thomas said.
“We have to rent,” Brenda said, gesturing between herself and Gally. “We threw ours out when we moved.”
“I’ve gotta rent, too,” Sonya added.
“I will sit with the coats,” Newt laughed.
“Ah shit,” Minho said. “Still no skating for you?”
Newt pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No strenuous activity for three more months at minimum.”
Thomas frowned at him.
“Alright, well Thomas, what about you?” Minho asked.
“Uh,” he shook his head from confusion and then looked over at Minho. “Uh, no. No, I’ll hang back with Newt so he’s not alone.”
“You can go, it’s fine,” Newt said.
“No, no,” Thomas shrugged. “It’s no big deal, really.”
“Alright!” Minho clapped his hands together again and pointed over his shoulder toward the rink. “Everyone else who is skating, let’s go.”
Thomas watched the rest of the group trickle off toward the renting booth.
“Sooooo, food?” Newt asked.
Thomas spun toward him. “Uh, yeah sure.”
“I’m starved,” Newt laughed. “I didn’t actually eat all that much at the house. And anyway, they’ve got great chips here.”
Thomas nodded and then gestured off the other way toward the food stands.
They eventually found themselves sitting on the bleachers, a small carton of chips in Newt’s lap and a hot chocolate clutched in Thomas’ hands. They watched the rink as their friends got started on their first go-around.
Minho was a natural, of course, along with Teresa. The two of them had been on the local skating team in High School. Aris was, surprisingly, decent. Thomas had never known him prior to this, but it was clear he fit seamlessly into the group. It must have happened sometime within the years that Thomas had been gone.
“So, Teresa and Aris,” Newt started.
“Hm?”
Newt eyed him and then turned back to his chips. “I take it you had no idea.”
“Oh. Uh, well, I knew she was dating someone. Or, I assumed at least. At this point she would be. I mean that’s what happens, right? People date other people.”
Newt nodded along as he listened to Thomas, focused on pulling apart two chips that seemed to be stuck together. “Do you miss her?”
“Um,” Thomas started and considered it. “I mean, sometimes, but not like that. Not like I miss her and want to get back together or anything.” He opened his mouth to continue, a thought popping in his head about how this would be a great, seamless way to transition into the moment where he would come out. But then he closed his mouth.
“How’s work going, anyway?” Newt asked, sparing him a glance before focusing back on the chips. “You’re a big time manager, right?”
Thomas laughed. “I’m not a manager. I have like, three clients.”
“Jeff and Clint got their show renewed, right?”
Thomas stared at him. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They did, yeah. How did you…?”
Newt laughed. “You’re my friend, Tommy. I still keep tabs on you even if you’re too busy to do the same for your friends.” He shoved an elbow playfully into Thomas’.
Thomas, however, was lost in the comfort and casualty of the old nickname that brought him spiralling back into teenage years in backyard tents.
“Since you haven’t asked, I’ll just go ahead and tell you,” Newt said, flicking his gaze at Thomas and then back to the rink. “My job is going well. I think I’m getting a promotion in January.”
“Wow,” Thomas said, blinking himself back to the present. “That’s really awesome, Newt. Congrats.”
Newt smiled and nodded down at his empty container of chips. “Yeah, it’s cool.”
Thomas’ brows flinched. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“Eh, I feel like I always wanted just a bit more, y’know?”
“Like, away from here?”
“From Rehoboth? No,” Newt said with a laugh. “I love it here. It’s home.”
“But it’s,” Thomas looked around them, “Delaware.”
Newt turned to look at him with a wide smile. “And what? You’re better because you moved to LA? What a dream. The origins of bad surfer music and Abercrombie.”
“Abercrombie was created in Ohio, not LA.”
Newt snorted and shook his head. “And I thought I was the gay one.” He let out another laugh and turned to watch some more of the skating.
Thomas stared at the back of Newt’s head, mouth moving wordlessly over a sentence he couldn’t quite figure out. There it was: the segue he’d been waiting for all day. And yet… “Do you remember when Winston made everyone watch him breakdance to this song at the Senior Holiday Dance?”
Newt turned back to him with furrowed brows and then looked up as if that would help him hear better. Finally, the sounds of Ariana Grande’s Santa Tell Me clicked in his head. He let out a small laugh as his mouth curled around it. “What a mess that was.
“Yeah,” Thomas laughed.
“That whole night was a mess.”
Thomas’ muscles tightened inside of him. “Right.” Visions of Newt’s ex-boyfriend fucking some girl in the men’s room flashed through Thomas’ brain and melted into the sight of Newt crying against Thomas’ shoulder for the rest of the night in Thomas’ bedroom.
Newt cleared his throat and shrugged. “Oh well.
Thomas looked over at him. “You’re not upset about it?”
Newt stared at him. “Tommy, it’s been, like, six years. No, I’m not upset about it. I’ve dated two other people since and had my heart broken at least once more. I’m good,” he laughed.
“Oh,” Thomas said, his stomach dropping the same way it did whenever that long-ago memory snuck out of its corner. It made sense to him that Newt would have dated more people since their Senior year of High School. Like he said: it had been six whole years. Thomas even dated someone in that time (only for a month, but it counted). “I also dated someone.”
Newt turned to him.
Thomas held his gaze for a second, wondering why the hell he even said that.
“Um,” Newt nodded. “Good. That’s… I mean, given the past tense, I take it that things didn’t work out?”
Thomas cleared his throat and looked out at the ice rink. “No, we’re actually married. Two kids, too.”
Newt barked out a laugh.
“We’re thinking about getting a fourth dog next year.”
“A fourth ?” Newt laughed.
“Yeah, one of those massive ones. A great dane, or whatever.”
“You’re thinking of a St. Bernard. Those things get gigantic.”
Thomas let out a string of laughter. “No, I, uh,” he cleared his throat in order to shake the laughter away. “No, we didn’t work out. It was a quick fling. We’re still friends though. He actually ended up dating an old coworker of mine. I thought it’d be weird at first but,” he shrugged, “it actually made a lot more sense. They had so much in common.” His eyes followed Minho as he did some showy spin around Sonya, and then Thomas realized how quiet it was. He pulled his gaze from the rink and looked over at Newt.
Newt was staring at him, head tilted a bit and something on the edge of a confused smile playing on his face.
“What?” Thomas asked.
“You-” Newt started and then looked forward with a small shake of his head. “Er, nothing. I think I- I just heard you wrong I think.”
Thomas opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about, when realization slammed into him like a freight train. His stomach dropped and he felt like he was gonna be sick.
Newt’s focus was set on tugging his gloves back onto his hands.
Thomas sat dumbfounded. That wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned on coming out to Newt. He’d spent the better part of the previous week trying to plan out different scenarios: telling Newt in the quiet aftermath of the Christmas party, huddled by the fireplace. Perhaps they’d find themselves back in Thomas’ backyard like old days and he’d whisper it beneath snowfall. He didn’t exactly plan on it accidentally falling out of his mouth while he was talking about an ex.
Newt finished tugging his gloves on and seemed to run out of anything else to do with his hands, so he folded them between his knees and stared off across the rink.
Thomas cleared his throat again, mouth dry as ever. “You didn’t.”
Newt’s body seemed to still before he turned around to look at Thomas.
“You, uh,” Thomas shifted in his seat. “You didn’t hear wrong. You heard- It was- My ex, I mean…”
Newt blinked a few times at him., eyes round.
Thomas let out a long breath. “You heard right,” he repeated, and left it at that this time
Newt slowly nodded. “So, you’re…? You like guys?”
Thomas flinched and shifted again. “I mean, yeah. But also girls still.
Newt nodded, shifted in his seat, and then nodded again. “Does anyone else know?”
“Just my family, really,” Thomas answered. “I really just sort of figured it out last year, so…”
Newt nodded. “Yeah, that’s okay. Doesn’t make it any less real.
Thomas’ mouth twitched in a near smile. “I didn’t mean to drop it on you that way, I swear,” he laughed, scratching his eyebrow.
Newt laughed. “Yeah, well, I came out to you via scrabble in a tent, so. Who’s to say what’s the right and wrong way?”
Thomas laughed quietly and dropped his hands to his lap.
“Thank you,” Newt added quietly. “For trusting me enough to tell me.”
Thomas frowned at him. “Of course I trust you enough.
Newt smiled and dropped his gaze. “I just mean… I know we haven’t been in touch all that much in the last two years, so it’s nice to feel like nothing’s changed.”
“Well, it feels that way, because it is that way. Nothing’s changed,” Thomas said.
Newt nodded slowly, staring at his hands.
Thomas dropped his own gaze, thinking about his words. He was wrong, of course. Things had changed - for their friends, their families. When it came down to it, things changed between Thomas and Newt as well. They had different jobs than they did two years ago, Newt had grown taller and was sporting a leg injury, Thomas spent his mornings drinking tea instead of coffee and Red Bull, and there was also the small anecdotal fact of both of them being attracted to men.
An announcement came blaring over the loudspeaker then that made both of them jump. “ Group two, your round of skating is complete. Group three, you have ten minutes remaining in your session. ”
They met each other’s eyes and let out a small roll of laughter, easing the awkward tension that seeped in between them.
“What group were they?” Newt asked.
“Group three,” Thomas answered.
Newt nodded. “So ten minutes, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Er, you wanna walk around or something? I’m kind of getting cold just sitting here. We can, maybe, pick up hot drinks for them or something for when they’re done.
“Yeah, sure,” Thomas nodded and stood up, following Newt down from the bleachers.
They walked in silence for a bit, weaving their way through the crowd of people bustling to and from the small Christmas stands, buying gifts and other trinkets. They stopped in one of the shops to look at an array of ornaments, pointing ones out to each other that reminded them of their friends.
“This is Gally, absolutely,” Thomas said, flicking an ornament of the Grinch.
Newt picked one up that had a boy with a rainbow scarf on. “This one can be you,” he said with a flickering smile.
Thomas felt his breath shorten a touch.
Newt’s smile flickered down and he furrowed his brows at the ornament. “Or, me. I don’t- I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no,” Thomas said, reaching his hand out to stop Newt from hanging the ornament back up. Instead, Thomas reached out and grabbed another of the same ornaments. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah that one’s me and this one can be you.” He held it up to Newt.
Newt’s smile slowly lifted again. “I like it.” He held up the Thomas-Ornament next to the Newt-Ornament. “We match.”
Thomas let out a small laugh, looking down at the two ornaments.
“We have a pair, if you two are looking for that instead?”
Thomas and Newt looked up to find an older man staring at them. His nametag read:
On Dasher, On Dancer,
On Prancer, On:
Jorge
“Oh,” Thomas said. He blinked down at the ornament in his hand and then up at Jorge again. “Oh, we, um-”
“Come here,” Jorge waved them over to another part of the wall and reached up. He pulled down a small ornament with two boys sharing one big rainbow scarf between them and cheersing two mugs of hot cocoa. “See? I can personalize it for you, too.”
“That’s really cute,” Newt said over a small laugh.
Thomas found that all he could say was “um.”
“It’s only two more dollars for the personalization, but given it’s Christmas Eve, I can do it for free.”
Thomas cleared his throat and looked at Newt.
Newt, however, kept his focus on the ornament in Jorge’s hand.
“Um,” Thomas said again.
Newt finally seemed to take a deep breath and then looked up at Jorge. “That’s a really nice offer. Unfortunately, we’re not actually a couple, so…”
Thomas was sure Jorge’s face was probably turning bright red, or perhaps he was covering it with a hand in embarrassment from assuming that two boys who were holding gay ornaments were a couple. Or maybe he was just shrugging it off. Either way, Thomas couldn’t tell how Jorge was reacting. He was staring at the way Newt’s mouth was pressed together as he nodded at Jorge, the way he smiled tightly as he said “it’s no problem at all, don’t worry.”
He wasn’t sure when Jorge walked away, but soon he found that he and Newt were standing alone again. He watched Newt hang up the Thomas-Ornament. “Unfortunately?” Thomas asked.
“Hmm?” Newt asked, eyes scanning the rest of the ornaments.
“You said unfortunately.”
Newt picked up another ornament and held it in front of Thomas. “Look, it’s Minho.”
Thomas gently pulled Newt’s wrist aside to get the ornament out of his way of looking at him.
Newt’s mouth was a straight line and his jaw feathered before he spoke. “I don’t- I don’t even remember what I said.” He turned and hung up the Minho-Ornament.
“I do,” Thomas said quietly. “You said unfortunately.”
“Well, I meant, like, you know, it was unfortunate that he assumed something and was incorrect.”
Thomas blinked down at the Newt-Ornament still in his hands. “Oh.”
Newt fidgeted with a glittering snowman. “What, er,” he spoke slowly over the words. “What did you think I meant?”
A flare of panic buzzed through Thomas before he shook it away. “Uh, nothing. Obviously.”
“When did you know?”
“What?” He snapped his gaze to Newt to find Newt already looking at him with curiosity in his eyes.
“When did you know that you were also into guys?”
Thomas looked up at the wall of ornaments as he tried to subtly take a deep breath. “Uhhhhh…” he exhaled and scanned the wall as if one of the ornaments would come alive and tell him the right answer. “I think I just sort of realized it over time,” ( truth) “because there wasn’t really any defining moment,” (lie).
Newt nodded.
A memory flashed through Thomas’ vision. The small speck of time that existed only in the corner of his mind now. Newt, at sixteen, lying in the tent in Thomas’ backyard with his back to Thomas. An abandoned Scrabble game somewhere by their legs. Five words whispered in the middle of the night, so quiet it was barely heard beneath the crickets and the summer’s breeze: Don’t worry, it’s not you.
Presently, Thomas felt the same drop in his chest that he felt eight years ago. The odd feeling of disappointment, sprinkled with confusion. “Don’t worry,” Thomas found himself saying suddenly. “It’s not you.”
Newt’s fingers froze over one of the ornaments and then he pulled it back, tucking it into his coat pocket. He cleared his throat. “No, no obviously. I didn’t mean-”
“No,” Thomas said, interrupting him. “No, that’s when I knew.”
Newt’s brows flinched and he looked up at Thomas. “What? That doesn’t-”
“It’s when you told me,” Thomas said, feeling his chest constricting. His breathing became more and more shallow, but as always, once he started speaking… “It’s when you told me that you were gay. And that you liked someone in our class. But, but, when I asked who it was, you wouldn’t tell me. And then you said: don’t worry, it’s not you. ”
Newt’s gaze dropped to the floor as he seemed more focused on something by his shoes instead.
“And - And, there was like, this, weird…pit in my stomach, right? Like, this part of me that was just there, and growing, and really uncomfortable and making it hard to, like, breathe and at first, I was like, oh is it because Newt’s gay? Am I secretly homophobic and had no idea? But then I was like, no, that’s stupid and doesn’t make sense. And then I was like maybe this is normal, you know? Like someone drops some big news on you and then you panic internally because you’re like am I reacting the correct way? You know? Like, did I say the wrong thing? Did I accidentally make a weird face without realizing? Did I cough at the wrong moment and now he thinks I hate him? Right? Like, just, general anxiety. So, all these years, I was like okay, that’s what it was. It was anxiety about how I reacted. And every time I thought about it from that moment forward, I had this weird feeling in my stomach again, right? And, so, then, when I started, like, figuring out that I was actually attracted to guys too, that feeling started to make more sense. And then everything from that moment forward made more sense, too. Like after that day that you told me, I was always, like, hyper aware whenever you were hanging out with another guy, cuz I was like ‘oh no, does he have a crush on Minho?’ and then I was also, like, really super angry when your ex cheated on you. And, like, it makes sense, right? Because you’re my friend and anyone who hurts you is an asshole. But then, I was like, well no, that’s not why I was mad, I was mad because no one should fucking hurt you, because you don’t deserve that because you’re a great person who anyone would be lucky to date. And you’re nice, and smart, and funny, and also, like, really, y’know,” he gestured up and down at Newt, “and so, like, anyone who cheats on you is a fucking idiot because why would anyone want to fuck up so bad and risk losing you as their boyfriend? Because if I were your boyfriend, I would have moved mountains to make sure I never did anything that would possibly hurt you.” Thomas exhaled the little remaining breath he had. “Ever,” he finished dumbly.
He blinked away the dots in his vision to see Newt staring at him, mouth parted and eyes wide.
Thomas took a deep breath as the last twenty seconds registered in his brain. “Oh god,” he sighed, heart picking up speed.
“Wow,” Newt said quietly.
“Oh god,” Thomas repeated.
“Are you good?” Newt asked, slowly reaching a hand forward to Thomas’ shoulder. His mouth quirked up on one side in a smile.
“Oh god.”
“Yeah,” Newt laughed. “You’ve said that. Three times now.”
“Is a fourth okay?” Thomas asked. He could feel the heat at his neck, in his cheeks, his palms, everywhere. He pulled his gloves off and then tugged off his beanie.
“Tommy?” Newt laughed. “Deep breath, yeah?”
“I don’t- I’m sorry. I’m not really sure what just happened. I think I just blacked out for like twenty minutes. I think I was possessed by something.”
Newt nodded. “It was the ghost of Christmas past. And present. And possibly future. All at once, to be honest. I couldn’t keep track. Your words were jumping all over the place for a bit there.”
“Were they?” Thomas asked, voice cracking.
Newt laughed again, tossing his head back. “Relax,” he said, shaking Thomas’ shoulder. “You’re bugging out right now and I need you to focus for a second.”
Thomas took a deep breath and looked at Newt.
“Listen, you just came out, you’re full of a ton of adrenaline. I think you were sort of…just saying things.”
Thomas blinked hard and then focused on Newt. “No, see, that’s the thing. I wasn’t. I’m not. I’m not just saying things-”
“-breathe while you speak this time-”
“-I meant everything, unfortunately.”
Newt tilted his head with an innocent sort of curiosity at Thomas. “Unfortunately?”
Thomas bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything before thinking this time. When he felt relatively ready, he spoke. “I meant unfortunately because that wasn’t exactly the best way to really divulge that I kind of, maybe, sort of liked you for, like, years.”
Newt nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “I have to,” he gestured vaguely, “try to work around all the extraneous words you like to use in order to figure out what you’re actually saying, so bear with me while I Cliff-Notes that. You used to like me?”
Thomas opened his mouth, but words - for once - wouldn’t come. He cleared his throat and forced them out. “Close enough.”
Newt’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Close enough,” he repeated.
Thomas tilted his head back and forth and then turned back to the wall of ornaments. He let out a long breath.
“So,” Newt said, turning to face the wall. Their shoulders brushed. “If that wasn’t the ghost of Christmas past possessing you, then…?”
Thomas swallowed.
They stood in a few seconds of silence and then Newt reached forward to turn one of the ornaments around to face the correct way. “For the record, it was you,” he said quietly.
Thomas looked to the side, not quite at Newt, but just enough to see him in his peripheral vision. He watched Newt swallow and stare intently at the poinsettia ornament he was fixing.
“Like, back then,” he continued. “When I told you it wasn’t. I was lying.”
Thomas looked forward again and took a deep breath. “Oh.”
Newt let out a small laugh. “Was hoping for a bit more than oh , if I’m being honest.”
Thomas turned to him fully then. “Sorry. I don’t…”
Newt sighed and dropped his hand from the ornament. He turned to Thomas with a defeated look on his face. “It was you, it is you, and it’s probably always gonna be you, Tommy. There you have it. Ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. Please figure out a way to respond with anything between five and ten words.”
Thomas blinked at him.
Newt’s jaw feathered and he slowly nodded. “I suppose no words gets the message across just the same-”
“It was, is, and always will be you too.” Thomas tilted his head, counting quickly. Then added, “Fortunately.
Newt stared back at him, features slowly shifting toward relief and something akin to happiness. “Fortunately,” he repeated.
Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a long breath. “So there it is.”
“Finally,” Newt laughed.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, feeling his own laughter bubble up from within.
Newt’s mouth twisted. Quietly, he said, “I think we may need to have a bit of a longer talk about this.”
Thomas nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think a word-vomit in the middle of an ornament store quite covers everything.”
“Probably not.”
“Also, I think we’re well over ten minutes,” Thomas added, pulling his hand from his pocket to check his watch.
“Most likely.”
“Shall we?” Thomas asked, nodding back toward the rink.
Newt seemed to think something over before he nodded. “Er, first, before we dive into… whatever conversation we end up having later tonight, we’re not going to let this change our friendship, right?”
Thomas tilted his head. “Hmm, only in good ways, I’d hope.”
“Yeah, okay,” Newt nodded. “Just making sure.”
“Hey wait,” Thomas held out a hand to stop Newt from walking toward the exit. “We should… I mean, it’s probably dumb, but we should get that ornament.”
Newt’s smile grew. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“I mean, at the very worst, it’s just solidifying that we’re best friends. At best…” he trailed off, suddenly wary of saying the word boyfriends before they’ve really had a chance to talk it through.
“Exactly,” Newt said, catching on.
Thomas gestured for Newt to lead the way and then followed him up to the checkout counter where a young woman waved farewell to the previous customer.
“Hi! How can I help you?” she asked.
“Hey, um, we were hoping to get a customized ornament?” Thomas asked. “Jorge was helping us.”
The girl frowned at him. “Uhh, Jorge?”
“Yeah. About this tall? His nametag said ‘Jorge’.” He looked at Newt for confirmation.
The girl continued staring at Thomas blankly. “There’s no one who works here named Jorge. And,” he pointed to her sweater, “we certainly don’t wear name tags. Bit tacky, don’t you think?”
Thomas opened his mouth, found no words, and closed it. He turned to Newt to find him looking just as confused. “Um,” Thomas began and then turned back to her. “Okay. Can we just order one through you then?”
“Certainly! Let me get the paint pens.”
It was three hours later, next to the fireplace in Thomas’ living room, that Newt and Thomas sat on the floor with hot chocolates and whispered in quiet voices, declaring that night their first official date. Behind them, in the glow of the firelight, their ornament read Thomas & Newt: Fortunately.