Page 19 of Flowers To Give

“I miss you too.”

Jeremy blushes and bites his inner cheek, nodding to himself and saying to Barry, “Goodnight. Or, good morning.”

Barry laughs and says, “Talk soon. Bye.”

Jeremy hangs up as he opens the door to Clark, “Hey.”

“Oh,” Clark steps back as he takes in Jeremy’s half naked body, “Sorry.”

“Uh, no it’s fine,” Jeremy squirms, clenching his towels at his side, “What’s up?”

“Well,” Clark shrugs, holding up an incredibly expensive looking bottle of bourbon, “I figured I owed you a drink for, you know, today.”

“Um, okay. Sure,” Jeremy feels awkward as he hesitates on letting Clark in. Feeling like he has no choice with the super star, he steps aside. Clark walks in and Jeremy rushes to his suitcase, getting out some clothes and telling Clark, “I’ll just be a sec.”

“‘Kay.”

Jeremy disappears into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He checks himself in the mirror, eyes steady, before getting into flannel pajama bottoms and a loose, old t-shirt. Feeling vulnerable in such casual clothes, Jeremy fusses with his wet hair for a moment. Done procrastinating, he pulls back his shoulders and heads out front.

The sliding glass door is open and Clark is sitting outside with the bottle and two glasses on an end table between the chairs. Jeremy slowly approaches and sits down. Clark looks over, “Hi.”

Jeremy nods to him, clearing his throat, “I hope you don’t mind, I got comfortable.”

“Your house,” Clark replies, uncorking the bourbon and pouring very generously. His smile is less confident, admitting, “Uh, your phone dinged while you were getting dressed. You got a message - a blurred image. From Barry.”

“Oh,” Jeremy’s not sure how to feel about Clark looking at his phone so personally, picking up the glass but not drinking. He thumbs the rim thoughtfully, “Alright.”

“Cheers.”

Jeremy looks over, Clark holding his glass up expectantly. He clinks his glass against Clark’s, “Cheers. First day done.”

Clark smiles toothily, repeating, “First day done indeed.”

Jeremy smirks back, taking a healthy sip from the glass. He holds it in front of him, darkened waves as a backdrop, “Mm, delicious.”

“So, is Barry the ranch hand you’re seeing?”

Looking over, Jeremy’s caught off guard by the question. Clark is blatantly staring at him. His heart pounds, smile weak as he shrugs and croaks out, “I’m not ‘seeing’ him… But yeah. He’s the guy.”

“Hm,” Clark sits back in thought, sipping at his own drink as he looks out over the night. Jeremy shares in the silence, moonlight strong over the deserted beach. Clark breaks the silence, “I was careless today.”

Jeremy doesn’t look over, readjusting in his seat as he answers honestly, “A little, yeah.”

“If you hadn’t been there, I would’ve gone tumbling down that cliffside,” he states.

“You don’t know that,” Jeremy counters, “Everything’s fine, no need to dwell on the past.”

“I owe you. Jeremy, I really do.”

The words sound so passionate that Jeremy feels forced to look over just as a passing breeze sweeps by his freshly shaven cheek, cooling his damp head of hair. Clark is looking at him again, eyes twinkling with moisture and emotion. Jeremy feels caught up in the expression of gratitude. He wiggles in his seat, uncomfortable, and looks off to the distance again as he answers, “Why do you keep saying that?”

“You were right,” Clark confesses, “I was the one that kissed you in the eighth grade.”

Jeremy doesn’t respond, leaning his elbows on his knees but feeling stiff. Finally he huffs out, “Why are you bringing this up again? What does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” Clark won’t let up, revealing more, “It’s the reason I didn’t want to hang out with you in high school.”

Almost laughing, Jeremy feels a little spiteful as he sips at his bourbon and says, “Make that make sense.”