Meet Cute Diary

by Emery Lee

  And even though Drew had promised our dates could be indoors from now on, and there was a café I really would’ve preferred to check out, I’d agreed to come because it was on the list of 10 Things Noah Has to Do Before He Leaves Colorado that Drew made me, and I really can’t ignore a gesture that cute. It just took a couple of reminders that this is all for the Diary, and I can make some sacrifices for that.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say. “I can just catch you up later. I’m out with Drew right now.”

  My parents still haven’t worked out our housing situation, and at this rate, I’m not sure we’ll actually be moving to California at all, but my dad started working this week, so my mom’s doing the house hunting alone while they’re living out of a hotel.

  “All right, Noah,” she says, and it’s nice how easy the name just rolls off her tongue now. “Just be careful. I know you’re into this boy, but—”

  “Sorry, losing connection,” I say before quickly ending the call. A little number notification sits over my Tumblr app, and I cringe. I probably should respond to some of those.

  Drew laughs. “That bad?”

  He’s been lying out on a towel waiting for me to finish the call, and really, I’m not complaining. He looks hot as hell in his swim trunks. I lock my phone and set it down. I’ve already kept Drew waiting long enough.

  And really, I hate swimming in public because I can’t exactly go topless, and I really don’t want to wear a bikini, but he insisted we do this date for the Diary. So I’ve got my swim trunks on and a T-shirt over them that I hope won’t fly off once I jump into the water. Of course, looking over the ledge down to the water, I’m a little hesitant about jumping at all. And, I mean, it’s not exactly warm out.

  “You ready to go in?” Drew asks.

  I glance at the water again and say, “Rain check?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I’ll throw you in.”

  I shake my head, lips pressed together. “You can, but you’ll be single, fake and otherwise.”

  He laughs, leaning into me. “Come on. We came all the way out here.”

  “I know, but you seem to forget that I’m from a place called the Sunshine State where we have warm beaches and flat land.”

  “Which is exactly why you should go in,” he says. “Once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

  And I know he’s right. Hell, one of the things I love about him is the way he gets me to do things I’d never do otherwise, or, you know, don’t really want to. It’s cute, and it’s starting to feel like we’re one of those couples that really grows into each other.

  He smiles at me, voice dropped low as he says, “Do it for the Diary?”

  Finally, I sigh and say, “Okay, but if I go into shock, you have to fish me out. Deal?”

  He grins, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “Deal. I’ll do the countdown.”

  And God, I don’t want to jump. I want to stand at the ledge like a coward and hate my life. But this is important. We’re at Step 8: The Fall. This is the part where we give in to love and let our lives fall into each other. It’s about trust and passion, and what better way to prove it than jumping off a cliff together into freezing-cold water, right?

  He pulls me forward, leading me to the edge. I don’t know how high up we are. Thirty feet? Forty? Hell, it could be three thousand at this rate.

  “Three,” he says, and I try to focus on the sound of his voice, that soft, familiar tone I’ve been drowning in. I want to keep drowning in it. I want it to overtake me instead of the water lapping the rocks below.

  “Two.”

  And I swallow my fear, force it down faster than a fall from these rocks. I love him. I need to trust him. I need to surrender myself completely.

  One.

  And we jump, our bodies hurtling toward the water like a meteor crashing toward Earth. And then we explode into a world of sharp needles. The cold yanks the breath out of my lungs, and I choke, kicking and trying to find the surface, but I’m too disoriented to feel anything.

  I’m gonna die. This is it. It’s over.

  And then my face breaks the surface, and I realize Drew’s arm is around my waist, keeping me up.

  I splutter, my teeth chattering as I say, “Cold.”

  And Drew laughs, our legs hitting each other as we tread water, but I want to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me. This is a scene straight out of a movie. Hell, it’s a scene straight out of my wildest fantasies.

  He presses his lips to mine quickly, but I already feel my mouth chasing after his, begging him not to go.

  “Exhilarating, right?” he says.

  “Are you one of those weird adrenaline buffs?”

  Drew laughs, and as much as I love the sound of it, I’m fucking freezing and ready to get out. We crawl out of the water, and he’s still laughing, probably more at me this time.

  I turn around and pull him to me, crushing my lips against his, and he wraps his arm around my waist again, holding me like I’m delicate. I know my nipples are poking through my shirt, my chest probably prominent against the wet fabric, but I don’t even care. I don’t care what I look like right now. I have Drew. That’s what matters.

  “I need to tell you something,” I say, and even after the plunge we just took, I know this is the far riskier drop.

  He smiles, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

  “I—” I pause, my eyes wide. I know this is a risk, but it’s one I’ve made up my mind about. I just need my lips to move accordingly. Finally, I say, “I don’t want to fake date you anymore. I want to real date you.”

  And he laughs before pressing his lips to mine again. And my heart flutters just a little. My breath is still shallow from the cold, but it almost feels like he’s stealing my breath with every kiss he places against my skin.

  When he pulls away, he says, “I thought we were over that fake dating thing a while ago.”

  I freeze, my eyes going wide. “Wait, what? When?”

  He shrugs. “Back at your apartment. I thought it was pretty clear we were both into each other and the rest was just poking fun.”

  And whoa, okay, I totally missed that. Here I thought I was steering us both down this romantic roller coaster. It never occurred to me that Drew might have his own track in mind.

  “I had no idea,” I say, and he laughs again.

  He pulls me to him, and I smile, pressing my lips to his.

  Then he whispers, “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Noah. You’re special.”

  And as his hands explore my body, I feel more loved than I ever have before, like every brush of his skin against mine is a whispered confession of how perfect we are for each other.

  Wednesday, June 20

  MeetCuteDiary posted:

  [. . .] Finally, we jumped into the water together, getting lost in each other’s arms. It was all very romantic and sweet. It was the moment we knew for a fact that we’re meant to be together.

  Anyway, here’s some shots from earlier!

  Justintimetostealyogirl replied: Wow, I wish I had a love like yours.

  Hearliessquiddyshopesanddreams replied: You guys are gorgeous! So jealous!

  Poppinpoppyseed replied: You really are the love expert. So happy for you guys!

  Load more comments . . .

  “Did you pack yet?”

  I roll my eyes, my phone in my lap as I wait for Drew to text me back. “It’s only Wednesday!”

  “Yeah, but you’re not packing Friday morning, so you should just do it now.”

  “There’s still a day in the middle, brother.”

  All of my free time has pretty much been occupied by Drew, so when Brian asked me to rewatch Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood with him, I couldn’t really say no. I mean, I could, but I wasn’t going to do that.

  And with Brian so fixated on Maggie—and them planning on spending the entirety of their free time on Thursday together doing whatever straight couples do—it only seemed fair that I give him some de
cent company for a while. You know, someone who doesn’t treat him like a cheap Japanese restaurant.

  Now we’re splayed out in front of the TV, fresh empanadas between us, and he’s decided to take this brotherly bonding moment to lecture me over my last-minute packing plans. Typical.

  I keep trying to squeeze in some DM responses, but between stuffing my face and reading subtitles, it’s kind of hard. We’ve been sitting here for almost two hours and I’ve only gotten one and a half done.

  “You’re spending an entire weekend in a cabin. You’re gonna die if you forget something,” Brian says.

  “Stop treating me like a diva.”

  “You are a diva. You’ve always been a diva. You’ll die a diva.”

  I groan, turning my face down long enough to close out my response and hit send. Then I freeze, smacked in the face the way only a sudden memory of something important can.

  “Hey, Brian, can I borrow your credit card?” I ask.

  “Why?”

  “I want to get a binder for the trip,” I say. I’d been putting off getting one because really, I’m pretty damn flat-chested, and I don’t get a whole lot of dysphoria from that region, but after the trip to the Paradise Cove, I feel like I ought to have one. You know, especially if I’m spending a weekend in the woods with a bunch of people I barely know.

  Brian shakes his head. “Use your own card.”

  “Can’t,” I say. “Mom made it very clear it’s only for food and the occasional transportation.”

  “Then go to Target, and buy it with cash.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Dude, what kind of Target sells quality binders?”

  He looks at me like I just called tofu “vegan culture.” “Literally all of them? They’re in the office section?”

  I groan, throwing my head back for dramatic effect. “Not a binder,” I say, miming opening a book with my hands. Then I motion to my chest, lips pressed together. “A binder.”

  His eyes widen for a minute, and then he says, “Oh, a binder.”

  “Yeah.”

  “My wallet’s on the counter.”

  I roll my eyes and cross the room to the bar. It really is a good thing he reminded me, though, because otherwise there’s no way it’d ship in time. As it is, I already have to pay like an extra twenty bucks for expedited shipping. I’m not even totally sure what size to get, but I’ll just take an educated guess and go with it.

  I grab the card and plop back down on the couch so I can check out. Then a little message pops up on my screen from Drew.

  My parents are going at it again. Jordan and I are going to spend the night at Amy’s.

  It must be pretty bad if Drew doesn’t even feel comfortable staying at home anymore. I text back, Anything I can do to help?

  My phone screen shifts as Drew calls me, and I mumble a quick “Give me a second” to Brian before excusing myself to my closet.

  “Hey, everything okay?” I ask as I close the door behind me.

  “Yeah, we just need a change of scenery,” he says. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the Diary.”

  “Oh? What about it?”

  “Well, since you’re gonna be gone for the camping trip, do you want me to update it for you?”

  I wince, my mind flashing back to all those posts Drew made without permission. Well, and his mess of a blog. It’s not horrible, per se. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with couples having totally different tastes, but I don’t know how I feel about him running wild with the Diary for a whole weekend, especially since I can’t rely on having the signal to monitor it.

  “Um, it’s fine,” I say. “I’ll just schedule some posts and get back to comments later.” Although I guess I haven’t really been getting back to comments at all, so that might be irrelevant.

  “Oh, okay,” Drew says. “I just thought it might give me something fun to do while I wait for you to come back.”

  My heart feels kind of heavy, and I’m almost tempted to give in, but this is the Diary. I’m not really ready to take that kind of risk even if I do love Drew. “I can call out of the trip if you want.”

  “No, don’t do that,” he says. “I mean, the money’s good, and you already missed a week of work. We’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” I say, but I feel a little apprehensive.

  “For real, Noah,” he says. “I don’t need you to babysit me. I just thought I’d have some fun on social media for a weekend, but it’s not a big deal.”

  “You can still post,” I say. “I mean, if you want to post about us and the Diary, I don’t mind.”

  Drew laughs. “Yeah, I know. My blog’s up almost three thousand followers since I first mentioned dating you, so there’s that. I’ll write up some cute stuff and make all your followers jealous.”

  I smile. “Okay, just, don’t do anything too over-the-top. We want to make sure it feels natural to the readers.”

  “I’ve got it. Trust me.”

  Inbox (1,453)

  Missamericanbi asked: I know you probably won’t see this since you haven’t been responding to anyone else either, but if you get the chance, I have a friend who’s been really down lately. She’s trans and her boyfriend just broke up with her and I was hoping you could give her some advice since your relationship is so ideal? Please, it would mean the world to her.

  True to my word, I pack Thursday night just after midnight. I’m scrambling around to get everything together, and just barely remember to try my binder on before I shove it into my duffel bag. I schedule a few posts for the Diary since I won’t be around to update it, and I do my best to respond to all the asks talking about my post from Paradise Cove. It’s nice to see the Diary’s doing even better than I am and has almost doubled in followers since introducing Drew. I email Drew a file of pictures and story ideas and stuff so he can have fun posting while I’m gone. I’m a little concerned about what he has in mind, but I trust him, and it’s just a weekend.

  Friday morning, Brian drags me out of bed and we head to the camp. We have to meet up there and gather all the kids. Then we get to take a bus out to the lodge. The kids we’re taking are a bit older than my usual crowd—the eight- to twelve-year-olds—and I’m a little nervous about it, honestly. And then there’s the sharing-a-cabin thing. I’m not good in shared spaces or outdoor spaces, or really, any spaces that I can’t completely curate to my personal preferences.

  By the time Brian and I park, there’s already a group of parents saying bye to their kids and helping them onto the bus. Georgette’s there, and she tells me to go wait on the bus while they keep loading, so I do, squeezing my duffel bag so it’ll fit down the aisle.

  Devin’s sitting near the back, a doughnut hanging out of their mouth. They wave me over, and I make the miserable walk of shame as my bag smacks into everything within a five-mile radius.

  When I reach the last row, Devin scoots over a little so I can toss my bag on the floor and slide in next to them.

  “Morning,” they say, all bright and cheery even though it’s not even eight yet.

  I smile back at them, but it’s more of a grimace.

  Devin laughs, passing me a Starbucks cup, and honestly, I’m not sure what I did to deserve them. Between the cold of the Colorado morning and the lack of sleep—which is mostly my fault—the coffee feels like life in my hands, gently breathing into me.

  “You excited?” Devin asks.

  And really, it’s a pretty pointless question since anyone can tell I’m not. It’s bad enough that I’ve never done a sleepaway camp before, but I also know it’s likely I’ll lose signal and Drew won’t be able to reach me if he needs me. Considering this is our first time apart as real boyfriends—or, well, as anything really—I feel terrible knowing I can’t guarantee a timely response.

  Devin holds open a box of doughnuts, and I take one because I’ll die before I refuse free food. It’s sweet against my tongue, and I just let it sit in my mouth for a moment as my brain struggles to wake up.

  “
I hope it’s not too much trouble,” they say, “but I’ve been thinking about the pronoun thing again.”

  I turn to them, hoping I look mostly like a human person by now. “Did you want to change them again?”

  They shrug. “I don’t hate they/them, but it doesn’t really feel right, you know? Like he/him, I guess.”

  “So what do you want to use now?”

  Devin looks up at me like they’re worried I’m going to get mad before sighing and saying, “Does xe/xem sound okay?”

  And really, I’ve never heard those sounds before in my life, but I nod anyway. It’s not my job to tell Devin what pronouns xe can or can’t use.

  They load up the bus faster than expected, and within the next twenty minutes, we’re barreling down the street, headed for the middle of nowhere.

  I pull out my phone to check for signal or a message from Drew. Looks like I still have the first but haven’t gotten the second yet.

  Devin’s got a line of sugar on xyr lip from the doughnut, so I grab a napkin and half shove it in xyr face.

  Xe laughs, pulling it out of my hand and wiping the sugar away. “Sorry.”

  I roll my eyes. “You apologize too much.”

  We sit in silence for a while. I don’t even realize I’ve knocked out until my phone vibrates, the movement shocking me awake, and I jerk away from where my head has fallen onto Devin’s shoulder.

  “What the hell?” I say.

  Xyr eyes widen. “What?”

  “You just let me sleep on your shoulder?”

  “Should I not have let you sleep on my shoulder?”

  I cross my arms as I click on my phone. “I have a boyfriend.”

  Devin laughs. “You fell asleep. That’s not adultery.”

  But it kind of feels like it is.

  I shake off the feeling as I look at my phone, a message from Drew coloring the screen. Hey, things are getting kind of rocky here. Can you talk?

  I sigh, quickly typing up, I’m working, but I’ll call you later?

  Okay.

  And I officially feel like the world’s worst boyfriend, but I don’t know what else to do.