Rebel at Spruce High

The big surprise guests arrived to a loud eruption of cheers: Jimmy and his fiancé Bobby had come into town from Arizona for the holidays. I understood immediately what the appeal was about Jimmy. Aside from having a personality larger than any room on the Strong ranch, he was also charming and kind. The second he learned who I was, Jimmy was upon me with a hundred questions, intrigued by my efforts to start an Arts club at the high school. His fiancé Bobby was a sweet guy, but a lot more calm and collected, though when he got around his own clique of friends who were still here in Spruce, he opened right up like a pop-up book. The whole evening was turned upside-down when Jimmy and Bobby revealed their biggest surprise yet: They were moving back home to Spruce where Jimmy planned to open up a gym. “And it will be a hundred times better than that haughty-ass athletic complex in Fairview, I promise you that!” he stated rather demonstratively. “This one will host dance classes, yoga classes, aerobics, you name it! Bobby will do all the nerdy bookkeeping and marketing stuff—” “Hey!” protested Bobby with a smack to his fiancé’s arm, though it did nothing as Jimmy went on, spilling his dreams to the room. I heard from Mrs. Strong later that she’s impatiently waiting for the two of them to set a date on an actual wedding, since they’ve been engaged for far too long, in her not-so-humble opinion.

Not to be outdone by his little brother’s big announcement, Tanner and Billy apparently had one of their own. All of the renovations at their little lakeside (or ‘pond-side’, as they say) house were not simply cosmetic; they extended their living room, added an extra annex, a second bathroom, and a second bedroom. Their purpose: to foster a child and become fathers. A lot of people already knew this fact including Toby, thanks to the Spruce rumor mill, but what no one knew back then—including Tanner and Billy themselves—was that the child they were about to happily foster was going to be a fourteen-year-old named Marcus. And also, this teenager was going to come with an unplanned surprise of his own: a ten-year-old little brother named Josh. When Tanner and Billy made the announcement at that Christmas party, they had no idea of the pair of siblings they were about to welcome into their family in a matter of weeks. They also had no idea the stresses, trials, and tribulations they would face over the next five months—as well as the love, wonder, and discovery they’d enjoy along the way. When Marcus started high school that spring, Toby and I made sure he felt welcomed. And just like that, I was no longer Spruce High’s shiny new toy.

Oblivious to this future we were all about to face, I continued to enjoy the Holiday Bash with Toby at my side. And what felt like a perfect night was made only more perfect later on when Toby and I cuddled up on a swinging bench on the side porch and peered out at the faux-snowy landscape before us, which seemed to twinkle and sparkle in the evening moonlight. “I wish this night could last forever,” he murmured in my arms as we gently swung on the hanging bench.

Thoughts of winter swirl out of my head like a lazy snowfall as I’m yanked to the present when Toby emerges from the back door in his sharp black prom suit, adorably groomed hair, and his killer smile. I can’t believe he’s my boyfriend. I can’t believe this is my beautiful, smart, compassionate, soulful boyfriend I’m gonna get to show off to all of Spruce High tonight.

After a very fast five-minute photo session, we’re ushered to the door. “You guys be safe out there on that bike!” Marlene tells us, making sure to give each of us a kiss on the cheek before we go. “Yeah, and, you know …” adds Carl in a grunt, scratching at his stubble, “don’t do nothin’ that isn’t, uh, safe … or, or whatever.” Marlene nudges him playfully and responds on our behalf: “What are you so afraid of the two of them doing tonight? Knocking each other up? You boys go have fun!” Then she waves us off from the front step, tears in her eyes.

After donning our helmets, Toby puts his arms tightly around my waist, which is a feeling that’ll never get old. “You look damned good tonight, baby,” I tell him over my shoulder, since I barely got a chance to in the house. Toby squeezes me back tighter and says, “Speak for your fricking self, stud muffin.”

Yeah. ‘Fricking’ is still our thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was the deciding factor that made Toby say “Yes!” to my promposal.