Page 47 of Thin Ice

"It's not what happens in my family."

"It's what happens here."

And that's when it came. My face crumpled. I pressed into his chest to muffle it, and his arms went tight around me, and he said nothing. He just held on.

I cried into his chest. Shaking. Not anger… just complete pain. Hurt.

My father's voice saying you are no longer a part of this family. And Liam's arm around me. I had never felt this much pain and this much love at the same time.

I didn't say the word. I felt it. Enormous, pressing. But I didn't say it aloud. Not yet. Not like this, with tears on my face, as gratitude. When I said it, I wanted it to be clean. For him, not because of what I'd lost.

He kissed the top of my head. Then my temple. Then my neck, slow. Just him telling me he was here for me and maybe… that he loved me.

"It's gonna be okay," he said.

"You don't know that."

"I know some of it." His hand moved up and down my back. "I know it's Christmas Eve. I know my mom's already cooking. Tonight the whole family's coming, and it's going to be loud and messy and my uncle's going to corner you about football and you're going to survive it. And tomorrow's Christmas. And after that, Noah and Priya are driving up for New Year's. We've got the whole week."

"A week."

"A week where nobody's scheduling you. You just get to be here. As yourself. Your big gay self."

I smiled, almost laughed, but it faded quickly.

"I don't know what happens after," I said. "Spring. The tuition. Money."

"We'll figure it out."

"That's not a plan."

"It's the truth." He pulled back enough to look at me. His eyes were steady. "We'll figure it out. After the holidays. Together. But today you don't have to figure out anything except whether you want bacon."

I almost laughed again. "I want bacon."

"Good. Because the entire house smells like it."

The kitchen on Christmas Eve morning was Liam's mom's jurisdiction.

She was at the stove in a sweatshirt and sneakers, hair up, radio on low, a towel over one shoulder. The counter was covered. Mixing bowls, flour, a stick of butter softening on a plate, onions on the cutting board. Bacon on a rack by the stove, draining. Coffee made.

Two plates were set at the table, and when we came out of the hallway, she didn't turn around.

"Sit," she said. "Eggs are coming."

"Good morning, Mrs. Moore."

She turned. Looked at him. A quick warmth crossed her face.

"It's Linda. Sit down."

I sat down at the kitchen table. My hair was a mess. My eyes were probably still puffy. I looked nothing like a Harrington. I looked like a normal kid.

Linda put a plate in front of me. Eggs, bacon, toast. Then coffee. She put the same in front of Liam.

"Cream and sugar with your coffee Alex? I know Liam doesn't like it."

"I do, yes please."