Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

he wasn't visible. In the refrigerator I found a covered bowl of salad and a covered plate of lasagna, and on the counter were two snickerdoodles in a baggie.
    Friday morning Lilia admitted that she hadn't been able to stomach another day hiding in her room, so she'd had to let the migraine act go and take Alan home after dinner. Friday night he trudged by my station in his Quikburger uniform. He tossed me a salute and kept walking. Monday he slipped into class late and left early. Monday afternoon he emailed the group to cancel the Tuesday meeting and to assign each of us work that he needed "as soon as possible." I recorded three of the pieces he'd asked for and sent them Monday night, and did the other two on Tuesday.
    Wednesday he dodged me again, before and after class. Mallory caught me, though.
    "Okay," she said. "What is going on now? He's not mad at you."
    "I don't even know," I told her. "I was going to ask you."
    "Come on." She tugged at my sleeve, moving us out of the small group that milled around the classroom door. "Now," she said when we were mostly alone, "tell me what happened."
    "How much did he tell you?"
    Mallory grinned. "Ever the cautious Lukas." She leaned to kiss my cheek. "He told me you saved his life. You'd better be careful, or I'll start calling you a superhero too."
    "Please don't."
    "Okay." She slipped her arm through mine. "He told me you helped him get his medications. If he'd told me sooner that he needed them! I mean, I probably spend more than that on my mani-pedi every month."
    I snorted.
    "Come on," she said with a poke in my ribs. "Out with it."
    I looked around. We were completely alone in the hall. "He kissed me," I admitted, cursing the blush I could feel climbing my face.
    Mallory giggled. "You're so cute! And then?"
    "And nothing. He kissed me, said thank you, and walked away. I haven't gotten within ten feet of him since."
    "Hmm." She tossed her hair. "All right, tell me what happened when he was so angry at you."
    "…I kissed him."
    "And then?"
    "He punched me."
    Mallory laughed. "Poor Lukas. Have we found the one thing you aren't insanely good at?"
    "You… don't seem surprised."
    "With the way you two clash? It had to go one way or the other."
    "But I'm— I thought I was— mostly—"
    "Please." She tossed her hair again. "I am, as Alan so eloquently put it, a hag. I'm not going to spend hundreds of production hours with a guy and not notice when he's checking out other guys' asses."
    "Oh," I said. "So… um, a little help?"
    "Oh no," she said with a laugh. "I'm not getting in the middle of this!" She kissed my cheek again and took her arm back, turned around, and walked the other way.
    I wandered through the rest of the day in a daze. At work I almost gave out the wrong change twice, and I didn't get any homework done, though I tried. If Alan walked by, I missed him. I got done late because I couldn't focus, went home and went to bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Twiggy crept into my bed and for once I didn't chase her out. I was glad of the company. She lay next to me and put her head on my chest. Reflected from the hardwood floor, moonlight crept across the ceiling, broken by tree branches moving in the wind.
    Call me an idiot. Mallory's casual "it had to go one way or the other" had knocked me for a loop.
    Nothing had changed, really— except my entire life. I felt like I was inside a snow globe and Mallory had turned it upside down and given it a shake.
    No, Mallory just pointed it out. Alan was the one who did the shaking.
    Alan. God help me. Alan Lumina Lacroix. I wanted to shake him . I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to take my club and go visit his parents and his Aunt Ruthann, and I wanted to kiss him a lot more. Only I couldn't get within ten feet of him.
    I groaned and threw my arm over my face. Twiggy licked my chin and I pushed her gently away.
    "What do I do, girl?" I asked her, scratching her ears. "I can't get near him. I'm not sure I should get near him. It's… complicated."
    Except it wasn't. Shouldn't be, anyway. "I'm not gay," I told Twiggy, reciting a shirt I once thought was funny, "but my boyfriend is."
    Boyfriend.
    I had plans. What I wanted to do, where I wanted to live, who I wanted to share it all with. I wasn't obsessed with any one path— I could do nearly anything in film, and as long as I was making a decent wage at something I cared about, I'd be happy. I wanted to live somewhere nice, close to nature but not too far from amenities