I’m still a teeny bit buzzed, and I don’t want to pick a fight, but … “I had a feeling you might blow me off, and I can’t shake it. I feel like, I don’t know, I’m so sure of you and us and how I feel about you, but …” I pause. “You’re so distant lately and …”

I’m trying not to cry, but loose liquored lips and all make it increasingly hard.

Tension pulls at his jaw. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

That’s never good.

Breakups on TV shows and movies and books always start with some variation of Let’s talk. Is this that?

I stand by his window overlooking the dark courtyard. A lesbian couple in knit hats and North Face jackets kisses beneath the lamplight and dashes into an adjacent dormitory.

Jack shuts the door behind him.

He doesn’t come up behind me, but I hear a dull thud.

When I turn around, he’s slumped on the floor against the door, head in hands.

I immediately drop in front of him, arms on his bare knees, hands on his. “Hey, talk to me.”

He lifts his head like it weighs a million pounds. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“With me?”

“No.” His head shakes. “You’re the one thing I’m sure of, and that scares me because what happens when I’m not enough for you? What happens when I come out to my parents, and they reject me, or what if I can’t come out to them, now or ever? Would you still want to be with me? I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, but I did. I love you so much that my body aches when I think about it. My whole life, I’ve felt like I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water, and then you showed up out of nowhere and fucking jumped into that river with me, and I’ve been drowning ever since.” He exhales, and his chest shudders.

“You love me?”

He laughs as my thumbs wipe away his tears. “Yes, dumbass.”

“How eloquent, Mr. Poet.”

“Is that all you have to say?” He stares at me with those big, dumb, beautiful eyes.

I should let him squirm like he did after he told me he loved me weeks ago during peak orgasm and never even acknowledged it. But my entire body feels like it’s on fire, and if I don’t say it back, I’ll burn to death.

“I’ve been disgustingly in love with you since you touched me in that river, and you drive me wild because I’m in this, Jack.”

“Really?” he asks softly.

“I need to know that you’re in this with me, even if you’re scared.” I grab his hand. “Because I’m scared, too.”

“What if … I’m not worth it?”