“I made it for you,” Devin says, my eyes floating up to meet eir face. “I mean, I thought you might want something to write in. You know, something other than the Diary. So you could focus on your craft. Is it okay?”

Okay? I spent the past week trying to find the perfect gift for Devin, and now e’s outdone me with a super thoughtful, handmade gift that somehow seems to sum up our entire relationship in a bunch of adorable little doodles. And e wasn’t even my Secret Santa.

I look up at em and find em staring back at me. I hate that we’re only inches apart, but it feels like miles.

And soon it will be.

I sigh, my palms sweaty. I feel vaguely nauseous as I say, “I want to talk to you about something. Is that okay?”

And Devin’s eyes are wide, but e nods anyway.

I take eir hand and pull em out of the office. I don’t want everyone at camp listening to me spill my guts. And yeah, okay, they probably aren’t paying any attention to us anyway, but it makes me feel better putting some space between us and them. Or maybe it just feels nice to walk, to have some time between this moment and what I know comes next.

And, of course, as we step out into the hallway, I look up and see a fancy little piece of mistletoe hanging just over the door. Whoever the asshole is who put it there . . .

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Devin asks.

I try to think of ways to stall, anything to give me a chance to catch my breath. And then I just hear myself say, “I like you.”

Devin smirks. “I’d hope so. We’ve worked together all summer.”

I roll my eyes. “No, like, I’m attracted to you.”

Devin’s eyes widen, and I’m worried e’s going to run away or start choking or something, but e just tucks the shirt under eir arm and says, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sorry. I know how awkward this must be.”

E smiles. “It’s really flattering, actually.”

“Well, I’m glad, I guess,” I say. “I guess I was wondering if you might feel the same way.”

“I haven’t really thought about you that way,” Devin says, and I feel my heart drop out of my chest. This feels like an excellent time to change my name and move to Serbia.

Then e says, “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt attraction for anyone.”

I pause, my head whipping up. “I thought you said you were into guys.”

“I am. Only romantically, though.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“You’re saying what?”

“That I’m romantically into you!”