The Way You Say My Name by Sara Bell Page B

the one that wanted to keep things between us light. Now he’s acting like some jealous ass just because the two of us shared a kiss. I told him you and I were just friends. That’s when he accused me of screwing around behind his back.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“What I always do. The best I can. Which right now includes washing my car.”

Jamie shuddered. “It’s twenty-three degrees outside. You’re gonna freeze your balls off.”

“A small price to pay for giving my car that special glow. Quit worrying, J. I’ll bundle up. Catch you in the morning. That is, if your aunt is still gonna let you ride in with me.”

“She will.”

“Cool. Catch you later.”

“Later.”

Jamie placed the phone back on the charger. He was just about to log on to the net when he heard the doorbell.

He mumbled all the way down the stairs. “What’s a guy got to do to get some peace around here?” He made it to the door just as the bell sounded again. Flinging it open, Jamie came face to face with Dillon Carver.

* * *

Seeing Jamie standing in the doorway almost caused Dillon to lose his nerve. All last night at work and all this morning at home he’d planned what he was gonna say. It took him a minute to realize he’d forgotten everything he’d hoped to recite. The fact that Jamie looked less than glad to see him didn’t help. Neither did the half-spoken, half-barked, “What do you want?” that came out of Jamie’s mouth.

Forcing a smile, he pulled the package he held from behind his back. “I brought you these.”

Jamie took the box of chocolate-chunk cookies that Dillon had bought from Hailey’s Café just that afternoon and held it away from himself like it was poisonous. “Why would you bring me cookies?”

Dillon cleared his throat. “I remembered that you liked these. And,” he braced himself, “I was hoping maybe we could talk.”

Jamie looked down at the box in his hand, and Dillon could tell he was thinking it over. Finally, he said, “Come on in the kitchen, and I’ll pour us some milk to go with these.”

Dillon nodded and followed Jamie thru the narrow hall of the old Victorian home. Nothing much had changed. Same bold floral wallpaper, same elegantly outdated furniture. When they reached the kitchen, Jamie pointed towards the table. “You can go ahead and sit down.”

Dillon took a place at the table and watched as Jamie pulled glasses and plates out of the cabinet. He put two cookies on each plate, poured milk into both glasses, and then juggled everything to the table. Dillon met him halfway and took the plates from the arm Jamie had them balanced on, his fingers brushing Jamie’s elbow as he did so. He saw Jamie shiver at the contact, but he quickly covered his reaction.

Dillon returned to the table, Jamie right behind him. After they were both seated, Jamie said, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

That was Jamie. Always straight to the point. “I wanted to apologize for what happened with Lewis. I’m not sorry for hitting him, especially not after what he said about Megan, but I am sorry for getting you caught in the middle of it.”

“It’s over with. No real harm done.” He looked at Dillon over the rim of his glass. “You could have told me all that over the phone. What gives?”

Dillon took a sip of his milk while he gathered the words. Setting his glass back on the table, he said, “I came over here to say the same thing I wanted to say to you in the bathroom at the dance. I want us to be friends again, James. I miss having you in my life. I’m more sorry than you could ever imagine about the way I treated you two years ago, not to mention how I’ve ignored you since.”

“What will your parents say? And what about the guys you hang out with? How are they gonna feel about you running around with the school fag again?”

More than anything Dillon wanted to reach out and touch Jamie, to hold him in his arms and take that defeated look off his face. But