It’s Ernie, looking sweaty and keyed up. “What are you doing? You’re going to miss him!” Without explaining—I assume Chaz’s folks are here—he darts off. Ms. Silverthorn nods for me to follow, but I really want to hug her. So I do.

She extricates herself from my grasp. “I’m your teacher, not your aunt, and you will mind some boundaries.” I’m pretty sure she sounds as amused as she is annoyed, but I toss off a quick apology before I race toward the dorm.

Chaz stops Ernie and me about twenty feet away from his family’s Suburban. “Don’t go any closer unless you want the demons cast out of you!” He’s making a joke, but he looks weary.

“Is it awful already?” I can’t help but feel this is my fault. Maybe because it is.

He shrugs. “I can endure anything for two months. Just watch the night sky on my birthday, and you will see me blasting out of there!” His mom’s voice floats our way, reminding Chaz that they have a long drive. (“Get away from the homosexual deviants” is like a silent e: you can’t hear it, but it’s there.)

Chaz pulls me into a tight hug, and we both say “Ow!” at the same time. When he releases me, he says something I never expected. “I am happier right this minute, even suspended, as myself, than I ever was when everything was ‘fine’ but I was hiding. Thank you for seeing me. And … thank you for Ernie.” He takes Ernie’s hand in his own.

Ernie looks like he might combust. “Um. I still go to this school, so …”

Chaz frees his hand. “All right, my sweet closet case, but in New York, we’re going to play by my rules.”

“We’re in New York now …” Ernie says, helpless to avoid a technicality. Chaz gives me a “see what I’m getting myself into?” look and, would you believe, blows Ernie a kiss.

I want to stop time, to linger in a moment when I still have them. But we have established that time is not mine to steer.

“CHARLES!” His dad is now bellowing from the front seat, and with a playful pirouette, Chaz leaves us.

Who do I have now?

Ms. Silverthorn, if they don’t kick her off Faculty Row, and Ma Elena, as long as Abuelo keeps the farm. And Ernie, after school, for a few more weeks before he’s gone. I’m feeling nostalgic for my weird roommate already, even though he’s right in front of me. He, of course, is thinking of more pressing matters. “Do you have my game?”