Page 97 of This I Promise You
He’s right. But does that change anything? I guess…it could.
“I do,” I reply.
“So go be with him! Talk to him. Do anything! You can’t know unless you work it out. Together. He’s shown you that he still loves you. It’s your turn. Don’t wait too long before you actually do lose him. Okay?”
I grin and nod. He’s not wrong.
“Now, do you want Chinese or not?” Aidan gets up. “I’m calling it in.”
“Yeah. My usual.”
Paul
One Last Try
Today is April 14, Easton’s twentieth birthday. Today is also the day I’m going to win him back. And I have a plan. It’s a good plan…I think.
The walk down Easton’s hall feels like someAmerican Horror Story: Hoteltype shit. There’s no one around. No sound coming from anyone’s room. I’ve been here a million times, but I’ve never noticed that there are no windows to let the daylight in and I swear the shitty fluorescents are playing tricks on my mind.
I thought this was a good idea, but now I’m second-guessing everything. I don’t even know if he’s here right now. I mean, I have his schedule memorized, but he could be out running or eating or working. Shit, he could be working. He might not even be in town. Or his dad is in town and they’re out shopping or something for his birthday. I don’t know. Holy shit, he could be sleeping and I’m going to wake him up with my stupid antics and he’s going to be pissed offeven moreand it’s all over.
Oh God. Please help me.
After putting one foot in front of the other—I don’t even remember putting on shoes, oh fuck, how did I get here?—I somehow end up in front of Easton’s door, food, drinks, and gift in hand.
Here goes everything.
I pull up Apple Music on my phone, find “This I Promise You” by *NSYNC, and…press…play.
The music is quiet at first, so I turn up my volume as Justin Timberlake lends us his ’90s ad lib vocals. He gets through the first verse and chorus before a door at the other end of the hall opens. I don’t look and the person doesn’t say anything. Another door opens that isn’t Easton’s. Damn I’m about to make a fool out of myself in front of the whole damn floor.
JC Chasez starts the second verse and I finally hear something behind Easton’s door. I step back and wait for the bomb to drop. JC starts the chorus again and then the bridge when the door opens and Easton’s finally standing before me. The dramatic instrumental begins and Easton is about to say something when I hold up my finger.
I mouth,Not yet.
He squints and closes his mouth.
Justin’s falsetto comes through my phone speaker and I join in to finish up the rest of the song.
Then, silence. I’m standing in the middle of the hall looking at Easton, and he’s leaning his head against his door looking at me. I can’t read his expression as he nervously runs his top teeth along his bottom lip and my heart kicks into overdrive. I should probably say something before this gets more awkward. Our audience demands entertainment and I’m going to give them just that.
“I brought lunch. It’s your favorite,” I say and hold up the bag of sub sandwiches to show him.
“Paul—”
“Have you eaten?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Good.”
“Paul—”
“Happy Birthday, Easton,” I interrupt him again.
“Thank you.” He gives me an aggravated grin and opens his mouth again. “Paul—”
“I love you.”
