"The confrontation with Molly went scarily well."
"She's your sister, Ollie."
The rain had cleared by the time Ollie and I reached his secret hideout in the woods. The last time we were here was . . . when I confessed. And now here we are, lovers.
He shook his head.
"We don't have to be a secret anymore."
Ollie looked at me with understanding eyes. "We'll always be something. Secret or not, Stephan."
I took those words to heart. He was right. We'd always be something.
"You really want to go public?"
"Anything you want." I shrugged, kissing his cheek.
I smiled as he blushed, rubbing the spot where my kiss fell. "Soon. Once the whole homophobe thing dies down."
We both knew it would never. But who are were to judge?
After talking until the sun almost swam with the moon, he had wrapped his arms with mine and rested his head on my shoulder. "Was getting into The Cassius Post hard?"
"My club? No, not at all. They were short-staffed. Why?"
"I think I want to join."
Smiling, I turned to him. "Really?"
"I want to be a reporter."
I softened my voice to a whisper. "Steal my job then."
"Hey!" He let go of my arm and playfully hit me. "You're the photographer!"
"I'm the photographer, reporter, journalist, and scapegoat."
He eyed me. "Under-staffed, indeed. I could help with that."
"I'd like some company."
"With complementary kisses?"
I felt my face go hot. Ollie grinned in triumph, seeing he succeeded.
"Ollie," I laughed and dug into my pocket, pulling out a Sony recorder. "If you want to be a reporter—"
"I shall learn from the great." He teased, leaning closer. "Teach me, hm?"
And so I did.
We spend until after dark trying on a—what Ollie called it—the BBC voice.
"Hello, this is Ollie Blossom, reporting live!"
I smiled as he continued. "Nice."
"Don't look at me like that, baby. I know it's not that good yet."
"Try again, then. But with more—"
"HELLO, THIS IS OLLIE BLOSSOM, REPORTING LIIIVVVEEE!!!"
I laughed again and covered my face. I kept the recorder in my hand. These recordings would mean a lot in the future. Just us having fun. "Ollie!"
"Better?"
"Worse!"
We both let the laughter consume us as it got darker, only lamps to illuminate the night.
"Crap, Ollie, I need to go soon."
He pouted. "This is Ollie Blossom, temper his boyfriend is leaving."
I kissed him again. "I'm sorry. Are you coming with me?"
"I'm staying."
"Well," I pointed at some buttons on the recorder. "This is the pause button, the record button, twist this to replay . . ."
After I explained everything, leaning closer to him, he nodded. "I guess you have to get going then."
"The offer for dinner is still up."
He scoffed. "God, you're persistent."
"What?" I nudged him, handing him the recorder. "Are you sure you want to stay?"
He looked at me with an all-knowing smirk. That was all I needed.