Merry Cherry Christmas

He’d never been more vulnerable with another person. Not his parents or Sean, or any friends. He’d opened up to Max completely. Body and soul. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, but Max’s silence felt like a slap in the face. Like rejection.

Max was shaking his head with a pinched expression. Jeremy barreled on. “I know you have this whole fairy godfather thing. And I love how protective and sweet you are. But I don’t want it to be one-sided. I’ve told you so many things. Big things. After what we just did, it hurts that you’re not telling me what’s upsetting you. I trust you. Don’t you trust me?”

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.”