Elijah

  I was frowning and nearly chewing into my pen when Clare appeared in the doorway, her familiar smile and scent bringing warmth to the cold space. The hospital room's sterile white walls were starting to feel like home after two weeks, which probably wasn't a good thing.

  "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked softly.

  I smiled at her. “Pretty good. I can’t figure out this calculus assignment, though.”

  She moved one of the two seats in my room closer to my bed, which was haphazardly littered with papers, my phone, and a textbook.

  I handed her the paper with the assignment while staring down at my halfway done solution.

  “I think I can help with this. Sawyer explained it to me last month and—“

  My phone buzzed and interrupted her—another message from my father. I turned it face-down, my hand trembling slightly. Clare noticed but didn't comment, instead launching into an explanation of derivatives that somehow made more sense than my textbook's entire chapter.

  We were deep in problem-solving when Sawyer's tall frame filled the doorway, his presence announcing itself before he did. "Ready to break free?" he asked, jingling his car keys.

  I stared at the keys for a moment, my mouth tightening into a thin line. Freedom was a loaded word when you'd never really had it. Clare must have noticed my expression because she squeezed my hand briefly, a silent reminder that I wasn't alone anymore. The gesture meant more than she probably knew.

  We packed my hospital things quickly—just clothes, textbooks, and the few personal items that had made the sterile hospital room feel a bit more bearable. Clare insisted on carrying the lighter bags despite my protests. The three of us fit everything into Sawyer's car, with Clare holding my laptop bag protectively in her lap.

  The drive to Sawyer’s apartment building was short, but my heart seemed to beat faster with each floor the elevator climbed after we entered the building. My new apartment was just one floor below Sawyer's penthouse apartment.

  When the door swung open, I stood frozen at the entrance for a moment, taking it all in. The movers had been efficient; labeled boxes lined the walls of each room, and the basic furniture I'd ordered sat waiting to be arranged. Afternoon light streamed through uncovered windows, painting patterns on the bare walls that somehow made the space feel both empty and full of possibility.

  "Welcome home," Clare said softly beside me.

  Home. The word echoed in my mind as I stepped inside, my hospital bags suddenly feeling insignificant compared to the life waiting to be unpacked around me.

  “Now all we need to do is buy furniture and give this apartment some life.” Sawyer said with a smile as he walked into my apartment with Queen, whom he’d gone to retrieve from his apartment in his arms.

  "We can do that by shopping online," Clare suggested with a subtle expression.

  I knew she was worried about me running into my pack members, and honestly, I was grateful. The thought of explaining my situation to anyone right now made my stomach churn.

  My new apartment was smaller than my dad’s house, yet it felt very open and airy somehow. Maybe because it was mine, and I got to live here alone without having to dance to the tune of my father’s whims and bad temper.

  Sawyer's cat, Queen, made herself at home immediately, claiming my empty bookshelf as her new throne.

  Clare leaned forward, scrolling through the website on my laptop with full focus.

  "This one," she said, pointing to a gray sectional that looked comfortable and practical. "It's simple, neutral, and it's big enough for guests."

  Sawyer, perched on the back of a half-unpacked chair, leaned so far over her shoulder I thought he might topple forward. His eyes lit up the same way they did when he was breaking through a particularly tough firewall. "Too basic," he announced, quickly taking control of the touch pad. "Check this out."

  He pulled up a sleek, modular sofa with built-in USB ports and hidden compartments for cables. "It's got wireless charging pods in the armrests, and look—" he clicked through the features excitedly, "—the side table attachment has a cooling fan for your laptop."

  "We're furnishing an apartment, not building a command center," Clare said, but I caught her fighting a smile.

  "Form follows function," Sawyer replied, already pulling up more tech-integrated furniture. "Oh, and this coffee table has programmable LED under lighting. We could sync it with your security system."

  I couldn't help laughing. "I don't need my furniture to double as a computer."

  "Everyone needs smart furniture," Sawyer insisted, showing us a minimalist entertainment center that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. "Think of the cable management possibilities!"

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  Queen chose that moment to pad into the room, heading straight for her favorite person. She wound herself around Sawyer's legs before jumping onto his lap, settling there like a small empress on her throne.

  Clare watched them with a mix of fondness and frustration I'd seen before. She'd known Queen for months now, but the cat still kept her at arm's length, only occasionally deigning to accept her attentions.

  "Still playing hard to get, huh?" I said softly, noticing Clare's expression.

  She sighed. "I don't get it. I've been around her plenty of times, but she still treats me like a stranger."

  "She's particular about her affections," Sawyer said, scratching behind Queen's ears. "Like her dad."

  "You mean she's a snob," Clare retorted, but there was no heat in it.

  I moved closer to Clare, remembering how Queen had warmed up to me. "Here," I said, taking her hand. "Sometimes it's all about the approach."

  We kneeled down together as Queen watched us with interest from Sawyer's lap. I kept my hold on Clare's hand gentle, showing her how to position her fingers.

  "She likes to feel like she's in control," I explained softly.

  Sawyer slid down to join us on the floor, Queen still cradled in his arms. "Watch this," he said, shifting, so he was behind Clare. He wrapped his arms around her, helping to guide her movements. "See how she tilts her head when she's interested?"

  Clare nodded, leaning back slightly into Sawyer's chest as Queen finally stretched forward to investigate her hand. The cat sniffed her fingers delicately before pressing her head against their joined hands.

  "Finally," Clare breathed, delight clear in her voice. She was perfectly framed between us now, Sawyer's arms around her waist, my hand still linked with hers as Queen began to purr.

  The moment stretched, warm and comfortable, until Queen decided she'd had enough attention and darted off to investigate an empty box. The spell broke, and we suddenly realized how tangled we'd become.

  Then Queen suddenly darted away, chasing some imaginary prey across the room, and we became acutely aware of our positions. Clare was still in Sawyer's arms, her hand warm in mine, and none of us seemed to know what to do next.

  Sawyer cleared his throat and slowly pulled back. Clare quickly sat up straighter, her cheeks flushed pink. I reluctantly let go of her hand, trying to ignore the lingering warmth against my palm. We stood up and congregated around the laptop again.

  "Food?" Clare suggested, her voice slightly higher than usual.

  "Starving," Sawyer agreed quickly, pulling out his phone. "How about Miller's? They've got the best burgers in town."

  "And those cheese fries you like," I added, looking at Clare.

  Her face lit up. "Oh! And their honey-fried chicken!"

  "Done," Sawyer said, already dialing. "The usual for everyone?"

  As Sawyer placed our order—a double cheeseburger for himself, honey-fried chicken for Clare, and a classic burger with extra pickles for me—I looked around the apartment. The walls were still bare, boxes still unopened, but something had shifted. The space felt different now, warmer somehow.

  Queen had returned to curl up on one of the unpacked boxes, watching us with half-closed eyes. Clare was arguing with Sawyer about how barbecue rather than hamburgers were the best food choice for our upcoming one-day school camping trip. The setting sun painted them both in soft golden light, and I felt something settle in my chest—a feeling I hadn't experienced since I was very young, before everything went wrong.

  This wasn't just an apartment anymore. Somehow, without my noticing, it had become something else. A sanctuary. A beginning.

  A home.

  And as I watched Clare win the argument that barbecues were more suitable meal options for camping trips while Sawyer pretend to be annoyed about it, I realized that maybe home wasn't just about the place. Maybe it was about the people who filled it with laughter and arguments about food and impromptu cat-petting sessions. People who made you feel safe enough to hope again.

  Suddenly, the prospect of sharing Clare with Sawyer didn’t seem so distasteful. Maybe, with the two of them, I could build a family.

  My family, I thought, testing the word in my mind. It felt right.

  ***

  It took three days to get the apartment looking like somewhere people actually lived. Clare kept coming by after classes, her hand naturally finding Sawyer's while they helped unpack. Queen had claimed the window seat as her second home, apparently deciding that supervising our unpacking efforts was her sacred duty.

  "Are you still coming to the camping trip this weekend?" Clare asked, looking up from where she was arranging books on the shelf. Her tone was careful, and I knew why. After everything that had happened lately, she was worried about how I would mingle back with our classmates.

  I focused on untangling a string of LED lights. "Yeah, I'll be there."

  I had nothing to be ashamed of. I had never been ashamed of my sexuality. I had just been afraid that my father would find out and I would have to endure more physical and verbal abuse over the matter. As for everyone else knowing, I couldn’t be bothered. I mean, it certainly hurt that only a few of my friends had called me to check on me since the incident and assured me that it wasn’t a big deal, but I wasn’t falling apart over that.

  Besides, I was a member of the student council and I definitely had to return to school some time, especially after being gone for up to two weeks. This camping trip was a good way to ease back into things, let everyone say whatever they wanted and even deal with the unruly ones with my fist, if I needed to.

  "You sure?" Sawyer glanced up from his meticulous cable management project, and I could hear the concern underneath his casual tone.

  "I'm sure." I nodded. "Someone has to make sure you and Koda don’t send half of the class to the hospital because of food poisoning this year."

  Clare leaned into Sawyer's side, chuckling. “They’ve done that before? Moon goddess, I can totally imagine it.”

  "It was a mistake. We just picked the wrong vegetable." Sawyer defended, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Besides, I think we can blame that on the teacher who set the theme for the last camping trip. What a stupid idea to make us forage for our own food."

  “You would sound so sensible if I wasn’t there, and I didn’t know that they provided all the necessary ingredients and only asked us to hunt for our protein. Probably because they knew people like you and Koda would find poisonous vegetables to ‘garnish the dish’.”

  Clare burst into laughter and it was only with Sawyer’s grip around her waist that she remained on her feet. I watched the two of them as Sawyer amplified her laughter with playful tickles.

  I shook my head as I watched their antics. The jealousy and broodiness I felt from seeing them together some time ago was long gone.

  Looking at them, so naturally comfortable together, I felt a familiar warmth in my chest. Although their relationship still made me feel like a third wheel sometimes—most of the times, it kept me from retreating too far into myself with the warmth and togetherness it provided.

  “Elijah, help me! Sawyer won’t stop tickling!” Clare pleaded while laughing uncontrollably and bending her body to avoid Sawyer’s tickles.

  I shook my head. “I’m afraid you’re on your own for this one.”

  “Elijah!”