“Yeah, definitely. We’re leaving early tomorrow for my grandparents’ house out in Quakertown, but we’ll be home around lunchtime Christmas Day.”
“Mama works at the diner in the afternoon, so I’ll be free.”
Jace wasn’t surprised. Dixie’s closed for twelve hours on Christmas Day, midnight to noon, to give Dixie and her employees a break. But as he’d heard her say once before, some people had nowhere else to go on Christmas, so she’d welcome them with open doors and hot food. “I’ll call you when I’m home, then,” Jace said.
“It’s a plan.”
Gavin winked before he climbed back down the ladder to the ground. Jace didn’t follow him. He stayed in the tree house for a while longer, until the flashlight bulb died and even he could no longer stand the cold. The party had wound down by the time he slipped back inside and sneaked up to his room.
He didn’t make it six feet past his bedroom door before Rachel came in and shut it behind her.
“What’s with the disappearing act?” she asked. “Mom said you came downstairs, and then no one could find you.”
“I told Mom I wasn’t in the mood to be sociable,” Jace replied as he stretched out on his bed. The warmth of the house made his frozen cheeks burn. “I went outside instead.”
“It’s twenty degrees.”
“So?”
She sat down on the side of the bed deliberately hard enough to make his head bounce. “So, we used to talk about shit, bro. You know all of my worst secrets, and I know when you’re hiding something.”
He sucked at lying to his twin, so he said nothing.
“Does it have to do with Gavin Perez? Don’t think I didn’t notice you both disappeared together.”
“Is disappearing together an oxymoron?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Neither of us felt like mingling, so we went outside to talk for a while.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t know you were friends.”
He shrugged, which didn’t work well while lying down. He didn’t know what he and Gavin were. How did you put a label on a guy who made you feel like you were the only person in the world who really mattered? A guy you then blew off in the rudest way possible.
“Seriously, Jace, you’ve been acting off all month, and I swear to God you’ve lost weight since Thanksgiving. No one loses weight around the holidays, so what gives?”
“You’re imagining things, Rach.”
“Bullshit meter has reached maximum allowance.” She drew her legs up onto the bed, then tucked them beneath her and smoothed out her linen skirt. “After everything we went through this summer, how can you not trust me?”
“I do!” He hadn’t meant to shout that. He sat up and twisted around to face his sister, horrified that she’d think he didn’t trust her. He trusted her with his life and loved her to pieces. They’d been best friends their entire lives—except for that brief, eight-month spat in ninth grade, but he didn’t like to count that. They had been through so much in the last six months.
In May, less than a week after the end of their freshman year, Rachel had found out she was pregnant. The father was her cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend whom she’d dumped in late April, and a baby was not in Rachel’s plan. She’d dreamed of medical school since she was six years old and saw her first episode of E.R. on television. Temple was her first stop on a journey she’d planned years ago.
No one except Jace knew about the pregnancy, not even their mom. He’d held Rachel while she cried over the choice she had to make. He took her to a clinic and helped her pay for the abortion. He made sure she got through this past semester when a deep depression nearly resulted in her failing midterms. And he’d never said a word because she asked him not to.
“It’s easier if you say it,” Rachel said with a knowing look. “You know I won’t love you any less.”
Either she already suspected and was helping him get it out, or she was about to receive the shock of a lifetime. The confession burbled up like word vomit, and it was such a relief to finally say to his twin sister, “I’m gay.”
Her face didn’t change. She watched him silently, perfectly neutral. And then she smiled. “Okay, good.”
“Good?” He wasn’t sure if he should be surprised, insulted or worried.
“Yeah, good. I mean, I figured that out years ago. When did you?”
He blew a raspberry at her.
“Seriously, though,” she said. “Thank you for finally telling me.”
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad, okay?”