He and Radley went to the Eddy—sometime in the fall after Josh’s date with Cammie, they’d started meeting there every Wednesday night. This Wednesday, however, was a mistake—the place was mobbed with Christmasy people, and music, and decorations, and drinks. Josh told Radley about meeting his father, needing almost to yell over the noise, and God, Josh was going to start screaming and stabbing people with the fancy toothpick that speared the cranberry garnish in his drink.

Focus on someone else, loser, he could imagine Lauren saying. “Do you have plans for the holidays, Rad?” he asked.

“You mean, besides the retail hell I live and breathe?” He took a sip of his bourbon and waved to someone he knew.

“Yeah, besides that.”

“No. I plan to order Chinese food and watch horror movies.”

Lucky. Josh took a sip of his smoked grapefruit martini. “Why don’t you come to my mom’s house? Christmas Eve. She has a big party. The Swedes love Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She’d love it. She’s been dying to meet you.” He hesitated. “And I’d be very . . . grateful to have you there.”

“I’d love to come. Thank you, Joshua.” Radley’s face was endearingly sincere.

“I got you a present,” Josh said. “Can I give it to you now? It’ll be crazy at my mom’s.”

“Of course! I love presents!”

Josh pulled a box out of his messenger bag. “Sorry I didn’t wrap it,” he said.

“You have the right to hate Christmas this year, Josh.” He opened the box to reveal a bracelet made of strands of leather clamped together with three steel rings. Each ring had a word stamped in hangul characters.

“It’s Korean,” Josh explained. “My friend Ben helped me. This says ‘friend,’ this one says ‘kind person,’ and this one says ‘brother.’” He waited, hoping it wasn’t too much.

Radley stared at him a second, then put his hand over his eyes to hide his tears, and Josh knew he’d done well.

“I love it so much,” Radley said, putting it on. “My God, Josh, it’s perfect. Are you sure you’re not gay? Seriously, thank you.” His mouth wobbled. “You know, I try to keep my own family out of my head, but holidays are . . . well. They’re hard. And this . . .” He gestured to the bracelet. “This means so much to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You’ve been really kind.” He thought back to that night in the Banana Republic dressing room. Radley had been more than kind. He’d been practically a guardian angel. “Besides,” he added, “I always wanted a brother.”