For Research Purposes | ✔

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

     "Maybe it'd be better," Sam poses just as slowly. "If we told them we were just dating, instead?"

     Sage barely lets Sam's words settle before he asks critically, "You want to tell my parents we're dating?"

     And because it's Sam, he hears him all wrong. So it's a defense mechanism sort of thing, how he responds, how he quickly rectifies, "Well, yeah it's a better lie than this just happened last night, right? They'll probably ask less questions about it, then. I wouldn't want to tell them we're just sleeping together."

     Sam is watching Sage's expression intently, wanting to know exactly what he thinks of what he's just said. If he thinks maybe they should be doing more than just sleeping together. Is that relief in the drop of his shoulders?

     "Okay, that works," Sage says nodding. "We should go down and set the record straight cause they'll start running with it."

     Sam wonders where they would run and if they'd bring him along with them. He thinks he'd like to go to the place where Sage and him are together, even if it isn't real.

❧

     Sage is not okay.

     He's lying in bed, listening to the shower run and thinking about how close he'd been to getting what he wanted, for one second there he thought this is it, Sam wants to be with me.

     But no, it's just a better lie. So they're dating but they're not. Last night had felt bigger than just friends hooking up. He'd been reckless with his feelings, getting his hopes up when Sam's been clear that's all this is and all it'll ever be. Sage needs to get on board. He's on board. No more wistful thinking.

     Sam's waiting for Sage when he finishes getting dressed and they go downstairs together. His parents aren't in the kitchen. They find them on the patio, drinking coffee looking purposely collected, like they'd practiced the expressions. Sage is sure they were absolutely discussing them.

     There's a bagel spread on the table with butter and cream cheese laid out. Dash gestures to it and says, "Help yourself."

     "We should talk," Sage says walking around the table to take a seat. Sam grabs the chair beside him. "About before," he clarifies even though he doesn't need to. His dad is so obviously trying to hold back a grin. His mom's doing a better job at remaining passive.

     "So we're actually dating," Sam says before him. Sage glances at him, confused. He kind of expected Sam to be silent through this whole conversation.

     "I knew it," Dash cries, the smile he'd been trying to keep at bay breaking on his face. Nora rolls her eyes at him. Sage wonders what his mother thought was happening.

     Even though they both agreed to the dating line, Sage feels the need to downplay it. "I mean we're just trying this out. It's still, you know, new. Which is why we didn't say anything before."

     Nora nods. "And we respect your privacy. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to."

     "We do?" Dash asks.

     She shoots him a look. "Yes, we do."

     Dash looks at Sam, probably knows he's more likely to get a straighter answer from him than Sage. "Well just one question. When did this start: before or after thanksgiving?"

     It's Sage who answers quickly, "After." He doesn't understand why this is the running question. Does it matter when it started? Sam shifts beside him and Sage thinks this conversation is making him uncomfortable.