Page 34 of Every November

Me:

Hey, I’m not. I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.

I hit send, then read it back and my face heats. That definitely didn’t come out sounding like I was only talking about photos.

Maybe I wasn’t.

I’m not sure anymore, but I don’t overthink it. Instead, I look up the artist and press play on the same album he’s currently listening to.

By September, the air in Seattle starts to cool, and Thanksgiving goes from something far off to something I can almost feel, especially since I booked my flight. I’ve spent the whole summer building something with Marcus out of scraps and somehow he’s become the thing I’m looking forward to most.

In early October, my phone buzzes, and it’s Derek.

Derek:

You coming home for Thanksgiving?

Me:

Yeah

Derek:

What day do you get here? Wednesday?

Me:

Yeah, flight lands at 2pm

Derek:

Okay, let’s do something. I’ll see what everyone else is up to.

Me:

Sounds good, man

I want to see Derek, I do. But Marcus is my priority.

The second I have the thought it feels like a betrayal, and I don’t know why. Maybe because for the first time, when I think about going home, I’m more excited to see the guy I’ve been texting all year than my family or friends.

Marcus and I still haven’t talked about meeting up, and Derek’s text is the push I need to reach out and make a plan.

I pull up our conversation and type out something that hopefully comes across as casual.

Me:

Hey. You still coming home for Thanksgiving?

I realize after I hit send that I said home, which is funny, considering neither of us lives there anymore. But maybe that’s exactly the thing that ties us together—just this one small town neither of us chose to stay in, which somehow still gets to dictate when we see each other.

I don’t even get the chance to put my phone down before he answers.

Marcus:

Yeah, I’ll be there Wednesday again

I do a stupid little fist pump alone in my kitchen. He’ll be there, now I just have to actually ask him to meet up.