He ran out of steam, sucking in a breath in the silence and staring at the blanket gripped in his hands. Maybe he was being ridiculous. Max didn’t owe him anything. When he’d invited Jeremy for the holidays, he’d explicitly said it was only as friends. Even if Jeremy had felt closer to him than anyone else in the world, he was probably being an over-emotional loser. So many people had sex like it was nothing. Even if it felt like everything to him.
Kneeling on the hearth, Max took hold of Jeremy’s shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m being dramatic. My mom says I overreact.”
Max huffed. “That’s rich coming from her.” He lifted Jeremy’s chin with one finger, his brown eyes sincere. “Honestly? I haven’t talked to anyone about this. I’m afraid you’ll think I’m a selfish asshole. Because I feel like one. And I don’t want you to think that. I want you to like me.”
“I do. I like you more than anyone.”
Max smiled, puffing out a breath. “I like you too. So, so much.”
“Are you seeing someone else or something?” Jeremy wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had to ask.
“What? No, nothing like that.” Max peered at him seriously. “Honestly. What’s wrong isn’t about you and me.” He pulled out his phone. “I got another email notification. LSAT people reminding me to look at my results.”
“Oh! They came in?” Jeremy blinked. “But you don’t want to look.”
In the dying embers of the fire, Max’s face was half in shadow. “Correct.” He tapped his phone, the screen lighting up. “Before, I just wanted the results already. Now I’m afraid to look at them.”
“Even if you didn’t do as well as you’d like, you can take them again, can’t you?”
Max stared at the home screen. “I can. The problem is, I’m not sure what I’m really afraid of at this point. Part of me hopes I bombed and the choice is out of my hands. I mean, yeah, I can take them again and the schools I’ve applied to won’t have made a decision yet. But it feels like, if I did badly, that’s a sign or something.”
Jeremy pondered it. It seemed clear to him now that he thought back that Max’s instant tension when the topic of law school came up wasn’t nerves about the test. “Doesn’t that wish…kind of tell you?” He held up his hands. “But I don’t know. Don’t listen to me.” He cringed at his reflex to add that.
A smile tugged on Max’s lips. “I thought you wanted me to listen to you. And I do. Please. Tell me what you really think.”
Again, he took time to consider. “If you look at the results right now and you failed, will you be relieved? Don’t think about it—yes or no.”
Max opened and closed his mouth. “Yes.” He nodded with certainty. “I’d be glad.”
“I think that means you don’t really want to go to law school. Why does that scare you so much?” He reached for Max’s free hand, squeezing his fingers. “You can tell me anything.”
Adam’s apple bobbing, Max whispered, “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint everyone. It’s been my plan since I was a kid. I’ve told everyone I know at some point or another.”
“Plans change. When I was fifteen, I was sure I was going to be a doctor. But I realized I’d rather be in a lab. You don’t think less of me, do you?”
“Of course not. But this is different.” He gripped Jeremy’s hand, his gaze on the smoldering fire, his phone dark again. “When my mom died, I promised I’d be a lawyer like her.”
It all fell into place, and Jeremy ached for him. He inched closer, their knees pressing as he caressed Max’s hair. “Changing your mind doesn’t mean you didn’t love her. It doesn’t diminish anything.”
Max stared at him hopefully. “You really think it’s okay?”
Jeremy nodded. His mind whirled, searching for the right words. “I know following in her footsteps is a kind of tribute to her, but you can still admire her and remember her without being a lawyer. You can still honor her memory. You already do. She would understand.”
“Yeah?” Max’s voice trembled.
“Absolutely. Whatever you do, she would be so proud. You’re amazing.”
Max’s eyes glistened as he met Jeremy’s gaze. “Even if I don’t follow through on my promise?”
“Yes.”
“When she died, I made all sorts of vows to her and God. I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore. I’m definitely not a good Catholic.”
“Is anyone?”
He laughed softly. “Probably not so much. My mom seemed perfect to me, but I know she wasn’t. But law school was the plan for almost as long as I can remember. Shifting gears is scary. I like plans.”
“You can make a new one. Have you thought about what else you might do?”
“I think I want to be a teacher.”
“Oh, you’d be great at that. That feels so right for you.”
“Yeah?” Max’s shoulders relaxed, his face animated. “I can see myself in a classroom. When I think about courtrooms… It feels like an obligation. It doesn’t excite me. But I don’t know. I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”
“You’d probably have to wait a year to apply for teachers college, right? If you get into law school, you could defer. Apply to be a teacher and give yourself the time to really think about it.”
Max half laughed. “I guess if you want to be logical and reasonable about it instead of wound up and stressed.”
“It’s just an idea.” Jeremy grinned as Max pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you. Guess we both needed to get out of our own way.” He leaned back. “I should look at the email, shouldn’t I?”
“You look at the email, and I’ll tell my parents that we’re more than friends.”
He hadn’t planned on saying it—hadn’t even thought about telling his parents after his mother’s outburst. But now that the words were out, he knew this was what he needed to do. This wasn’t a phase. He wasn’t going to hide, and if that meant his family cut him off, so be it.
Max nodded. “Deal. Here goes nothing.” He tapped his phone, his face lit by the harsh light. He mumbled, “Click here. Then there. Loading…” His spine zipped up straight. “Whoa. Aced it.”
“Congrats?”
“Yeah. You know what? That feels good. I worked hard for that.” He looked at Jeremy. “And I don’t think I want to go to law school.”
“That’s okay.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
They held each other on the hearth in silence, simply breathing together. Jeremy imagined he could feel Max’s stress melting away and acceptance taking its place.
There was a faint buzz, and Max looked down at his phone again. “Shit, a text from my dad. We’d better get back for dinner.” He tapped a reply, and they hurriedly finished packing and gearing up.
With his glasses off and helmet on, the world was a blur of snow and shadows. He held onto Max as they drove back along the winding road, Max going slowly in the dark, a light snow falling. Jeremy’s butt was tender, and he reveled in it.