So I do the only thing I can think of to ease his mind. I’ve never seen him cry, but if he cries now— I just can’t. I can’t deal with that. So I kiss him instead. Right smack on the lips with enough pressure and precision there should never be any doubt as to what I’m doing. It’s just Waylon and me and the heart burning in my chest in this long, dragged out moment. One I never want to end. I. Kiss. Him. This boy. My best friend. I kiss him.
