The summer before senior year Pope buys an old burgandy Harvard sweatshirt at a thrift store on the cut.
Kiara calls it manifesting, something about spirituality and fate, and then sprays frankincense inside the collar for ‘good luck’.
He doesn’t understand any of it, but he thanks her anyway, and hopes she knows he means it.
John B doesn’t get it. He’s always had drive and motivation, but never for school, and he’s always said he’s perfectly content to attend the little community college in Dare County. But he cheers Pope on, always happy to listen to his rants about forensics or ask him questions from a deck of flash cards.
JJ, of course, loves the sweatshirt.
He steals it from Popes drawers until the frankincense scent mixes with weed and gasoline and sea salt. Pope loves it even more then, because that way he can always carry JJ with him.
JJ teases Pope, calls him ‘Harvard Boy’. But on nights when they’re alone, JJ kisses him long and slow and looks him straight in the eyes and says, “You know you’ve got this, right?”
Pope does know. At least, he tries to. It’s hard, when everything is weighing on this; his future, his legacy, the approval of his parents. It’s hard to have everything expected of him.
The day that the letters go out for early acceptance, the five of them are sprawled around John B’s living room.
Sarah and John B are playing some complicated card game on the floor that involves slapping each other’s hands and yelling with laughter, and Kie is curled up in the big arm chair in the corner, absorbed in her phone.
Recently she’s always been on her phone, zoning out of their conversations and glaring at Pope whenever he mentions it. He figures she’s talking to some guy she met at a party, but she’s never talked to anyone for this long, or been so secretive when confronted about it.
JJ is cross legged on the floor with a pair of knitting needles clutched in his fingers, an anxious habit he had taken up weeks ago, to the surprise of the rest of them.
Pope has always been pretty good at reading JJ, and the knitting became a way of gauging how JJ was feeling, usually an indication of nerves. Although Pope isn’t sure why JJ had any unusual reason to be anxious, since he wasn’t waiting on any acceptance letters of his own.
If Pope got accepted into Harvard like they hoped, the plan was for JJ to interview for a position at a mechanics shop nearby, similar to the job he had now in town.
A part of Pope wishes that JJ had applied to schools also. He had been studying so hard the last year and a half, keeping his grades up. He’d become really interested in medicine and anatomy as well, listening intently when Pope talked about the human body and often starting his own conversations on the subject.
But he had been adamant about getting a job instead of applying anywhere to help pay for Popes tuition, and Pope hadn’t pushed further, even if he had felt a little guilty about it.
Pope moves his foot from where it’s tucked up underneath him on the couch and nudges JJ on the shoulder.
“Hey.”
JJ looks up, wrinkles his nose. “What’s up?”
Pope gestures to the knitting. “You okay?”
JJ looks down at his hands, and then tightens his fist around the ball of yarn, as if to make it disappear.
“Fine.”
Pope knows he isn’t, but doesn’t argue, just slides down from the couch, scoots over until their sides are pressed together and JJ relaxes against him, and Pope can breathe easy again.
Kiara glances over at them from her spot on the armchair, and he can feel her gaze soften at the sight of them side by side on the floor.
Pope knows it won’t always be like this, all five of them stuffed into a single living room, but he hopes he’ll still have this love for them, in all of their flaws, come five, ten years.
JJ rests his head on Popes shoulder, and Pope knows his friends and this place will always have a piece of his heart, but JJ will carry most of it.
*
Pope gets into Harvard. It isn’t a full ride, but it’s a scholarship, enough that if he works all summer and gets his parents to help out, he’ll be able to scrape it together.
They all laugh and cry and jump up and down in a jumble of bodies, and then JJ puts a hand behind his neck and kisses him shamelessly, and Pope never wants to come down.
Sarah’s also gotten into University of Miami, and after they’re all done congratulating each other and drinking shitty champagne, John B gives Sarah an awkward smile, and it occurs to Pope that they haven’t had the Talk yet. The how-are-we-doing-this-after-high school talk. JJ and Pope had it months ago, and JJ had professed that he would follow Pope wherever he went.
They’ll be okay, he knows, get a shitty apartment by Popes school, and JJ will walk him to his classes in the mornings before work and they’ll dance in the kitchen and make pancakes for dinner. It’ll be hard, maybe harder than anything Popes ever done, but they’ll figure it out.
He hopes John B and Sarah figure it out too. He can’t handle anymore change.
The next day JJ’s knitting does not make an appearance. They take the boat out on the water, and JJ smiles like normal and everything feels right again. Kie pulls a joint from her bag and JJ gets high and kisses Pope a little sloppy, pushes one hand under the folds of his shirt until John B starts to complain.
When the sky grows dark they lie out in the damp grass by John B’s, and Kiara points out constellations. Pope tries to memorize them all; Aquila the eagle, Cassiopeia, Ursa Minor, but JJ rests his head on Popes chest, splays one hand across his ribs, and Pope can’t think about anything but the overwhelming love he feels.
JJ fidgets with the pocket on Popes shirt, and Pope almost wants to take this moment and tuck it away there, hide it inside the blue cotton next to the steady beat of his heart.
At some point they stumble back inside and Pope thinks he falls asleep like that on John B’s couch, safe and warm, JJ’s arms curled around his waist, and Kies voice still droning softly.
When Pope wakes the next morning, stretches in the warm space of the living room, JJ is gone. John B is half asleep across the room, but he’s awake enough to crack open one eye and gesture vaguely outside when Pope asks after the whereabouts of his boyfriend.
JJ is sitting on the steps outside the house, his knitting once again cradled in his hands.
“Morning,” Pope greets, and clears his throat when his voice cracks with sleep, presses a kiss to the side of JJ’s head.
“Mmm.” JJ doesn’t look up.
Pope presses his lips together and spreads his legs out across the steps so that their knees are just barely touching.
“Talk to me, JJ.”
JJ seems to understand the severity in his voice, because his hands twitch in his lap. And then he says, very quietly, “I got into Simmons.”
Pope blinks. “What?”
JJ tosses his yarn to the ground, and Pope watches it tumble down the steps and into the grass. “I got into Simmons, okay?”
Pope’s head is spinning. “You...the nursing school? I thought you didn’t want to apply anywhere.”
JJ shivers in the morning air, but doesn’t say anything. Pope wants to reach out to him, but holds himself back, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
JJ looks so fragile in Popes sweatshirt. Pope hadn’t even realized he’d been wearing it when they had fallen asleep.
It’s Popes Harvard sweatshirt. Of course it is.
Pope rubs one hand along his bare arm.
“I mean, this is a change of plans, but JJ that’s amazing! Of course you should go. Why didn’t you tell me?”
JJ shakes his head, studies the yarn at his feet as if he’s regretting letting it fall.
“You know why I got into medical shit? To impress you. You were always rambling on about bone marrow and the pharynx and stuff, so I figured if it could be your dream, it could be mine too.”
He scratches one hand along the length of his calf, before leaning back again.
“But that’s all it ever was. A dream. I didn’t think it would actually happen.”
“JJ, that’s okay! It’s okay to change your mind. If this is what you want, take it.”
JJ places both hands on the first step, hoisting himself up, and starts to pace through the grass, as if he hasn’t heard Pope at all.
“We can’t afford Harvard and Simmons. The plan was I get a day job to help cover your classes. You really think that’s gonna work out? If I’m in school?”
Pope frowns. “I’ll take a deferral! I’ll get a graveyard shift somewhere! I don’t know, I’ll do something.”
He knows his voice is desperate. He can’t find it in himself to care.
“No.” JJ spits it out, and Pope winces. “See, this is why you I didn’t want to tell you. I’m not getting in the way of the dream you’ve had for years. What about the sweatshirt? What about the plan, Pope? Stop putting yourself second.”
The moment feels oddly reminiscent of that night at Midsummers months ago, when JJ had taken Popes face in his hands and told Pope to trust someone else. It was the first moment Pope can remember wanting to kiss JJ, really wanting to.
“You gave up everything for me.” Popes voice breaks as he thinks about it, about how JJ had gone to jail for him, about everything else he had done for Pope since then. “Just let me do this for you.”
JJ doesn’t answer, just walks off in the direction of the pier. Pope feels his absence fill up the open air, hears the gentle drumming of a woodpecker nearby, feels unbearably alone.
Pope hates that’s he’s upset. He hates that he’s anything but happy. Because they’ve gotten what they wanted, haven’t they? The life they’ve been waiting for? He wonders why it seems so out of reach.
He sighs heavily, thinks about calling Kie, but before he can move his phone rings. And it’s her, smiling face flashing across the screen, like she can sense his distress.
“Hey,” she says when he picks up. “We need to talk. Meet me at The Wreck in ten minutes.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but the phone beeps twice in his ear, signaling the end of the call. He frowns, pulling it away from his face. He doesn’t know what could be so sensitive that she would ask him to meet her without revealing any other details.
He shuts off his phone and steps inside to grab a sweatshirt, not the Harvard sweatshirt, but a plain grey one he had purchased in August on a trip out of town.
It still smells like JJ.
He pulls on his sneakers too, and hopes Kiara is alright.
He hopes he and JJ are alright, too.
They will be. Pope doesn’t know what he’ll do if they aren’t.
*
The Wreck is practically empty when Pope arrives. The tables and chairs are all neatly stacked away, and Kiara is leaning up against the counter, back to him.
“Kie?”
She turns, and Pope notices someone else standing behind her. A girl, with long dark braids falling around her shoulders, and big brown eyes.
Pope raises an eyebrow as he approaches.
“Hey Pope,” Kie says. He swears she’s blushing.
“Hi,” he says warily. “Who’s this?”
The girl steps forward and extends one hand in a gesture that feels oddly formal.
“June,” she greets, a similar blush tinting her cheeks, “nice to meet you.”
He shakes her hand slowly, and meets Kiaras eyes in a way that he hopes conveys, oh?
The way she glares in response lets Pope know she knows exactly what he’s thinking.
Kiara shuffles closer to June and exhales almost imperceptibly.
“Pope, this is...my girlfriend.”
Pope feels surprisingly...unsurprised. After he had come to terms with his own sexuality and he and JJ had gotten together, he had wondered if Kie wasn’t as straight as she seemed either, but she had never said anything.
And now here she is, with a girlfriend, looking at him hesitantly like somehow he’ll react poorly, and god, Pope just wants to crush her in a hug.
He feigns innocence instead. “Wow, really? June, you are way out of her league.”
He leans in towards June and whispers conspiratorially, “Blink twice if you’re being held captive.”
June laughs and Kie shoves at him, but she looks a little grateful, and he squeezes her arm briefly before she gestures them towards the back of the restaurant.
“So,” Pope begins once they’ve all sat down, “you brought me here to have lunch?”
“Yeah,” Kiara says, almost shyly. “Is that okay?”
Before Pope can answer, June let’s out a soft snort.
“Kie is notoriously bad with plans. For our first date she forgot to make a reservation, so we had to ditch that idea and have a picnic in the park. It was better that way, though,” June says, smiling as she turns to look at Kie.
Pope laughs. “I’m not surprised. My boyfriend’s like that too. I’m pretty sure we’ve never been on a date that didn’t have us changing locations at least once.”
Pope feels a pang in his chest as he mentions JJ, even when June chuckles kindly. He regrets their fight this morning, feels it like an ache in his chest, but he can’t take it back now. All he can do is figure out a way to fix it.
A phone rings sharply, and June lifts it from its place face down on the table.
“Sorry,” she says after a moment, “it’s my mom. I gotta take this.”
Once June leaves the room, Pope raises his eyebrows at Kiara.
“She’s cute.”
“I know.”
Kie glances absently in the direction June has gone, and when she turns back she taps a hand against the table.
“So you like her?”
She looks-scared, almost. More scared than Popes seen her in the years they’ve known each other.
He knows she’s asking for more than just his opinion on her girlfriend, and he reaches across the table and takes her hand.
“I do. Really.”
June enters the room again, face troubled.
“Turns out my moms car won’t start and I have to pick up my brother from a friends house. I don’t think I can stay for lunch. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Kie says, leaning up to give her a short kiss, “don’t worry about it.”
Pope waves to her as she leaves, and Kiara stands, waiting for him to do the same.
“Come on. I’ll make us some lunch.”
Pope follows her to the kitchen and leans against the counter as she pulls hamburger meat from the fridge and vegetable oil from the cabinet.
His phone buzzes against his leg and he averts his gaze from Kiara to check his texts, hoping for a message from JJ. Instead it’s John B, asking about one of his missing tee shirts. He pockets the phone without responding, and sighs.
“You okay?”
Pope whips his head up. “Yeah. Fine.”
Kiara looks at him expectantly, carefully placing two burgers on the stovetop and watching as the oil sizzles into smoke.
Pope rubs one hand over his face, and then says without preamble, “JJ and I got in a fight.”
Kie looks sympathetic. “He told you about Simmons, didn’t he?”
“You knew?”
Kiara flips one burger and adjusts the heat on the stove. “Uh, yeah. I helped him with some of his essays. I think he just didn’t want to get your hopes up, and then he actually got in and when he realized it might jeopardize your plans...” She trails off.
Pope buries his head in his hands.
“I never wanted us to fight. It’s like he thinks he isn’t worthy of going to a good school and getting a good job. Like he thinks it isn’t worth it for us to work a little harder, a little more, so he can achieve his dreams as well as mine.”
Kiara hums amicably. “Have you told him this?”
Pope peaks out from between his fingers. “No?”
Kiara mutters something critical under her breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘men’ and deposits each burger onto a ceramic plate.
“I think you just need to talk to him.”
Pope nods once, twice.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
Kie slides one of the plates towards him.
“Eat, and then go talk to your boyfriend.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“You should thank me, because I am not making lunch for you again. This is pity food.”
Pope rolls his eyes, but Kiaras gaze is kind when he looks up.
“I like pity food.”
“Good.”
*
Pope is almost home, halfway up the path to his house when he freezes, keys in hand. JJ is sitting on the stone steps leading up to his door, head resting in one hand.
Pope swallows. “Hi.”
JJ’s head snaps up. His gaze is cautious, searching. “Hey,” he says tentatively.
Pope takes a step forward and gestures to the steps. “Can I sit?”
At JJs nod Pope takes a seat gingerly on the end of one step, almost a mirror of their positions that morning. JJ doesn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” JJ says after what feels like an eternity. “I know you were excited, and I shouldn’t have yelled. But you’ve given me so much. I didn’t want to take anything else from you.”
Pope exhales heavily. “You’ve never taken anything from me. I do things for you because I love you, and because it makes me happy. I would never let you give up your dream for mine.”
JJ smiles thinly, nodding, but there’s a tightness around his eyes that always seems to appear when Pope tells JJ he loves him. Like he doesn’t quite believe it. Pope supposes it’s hard to feel loved when you grow up being told you’re not worthy of love from anyone.
Pope takes JJ’s hand and squeezes it gently, like it could crack if he’s not careful. JJ squeezes back, but then breaks their hold and reaches for something at his side. Pope peers over his shoulder and swallows a gasp.
“Is that-“
“Fifteen hundred dollars, cash. It’s not much, but I figured it would get us started.”
Pope shakes his head. “How did you get that?“
“John B sold the boat. I mean, a lot of it’s mine that I’ve saved, and Kie pooled in too, but most of it is his.”
Pope opens his mouth and shuts it again, almost robotically. “That was Big John’s boat. John B always said it was the last piece of him he had left.”
“I know. I couldn’t believe it either. He said something about trying to be a better friend.”
JJ nudges a small piece of gravel with his shoe and looks off into the distance.
“He is trying, you know? He helped me study last year, for my SAT’s and everything. And when he gave me the money, he told me “building things for the future are more important than reminders of the past”.”
At this JJ pauses to chuckle. “Don’t know when he got so philosophical. Maybe Kie’s rubbing off on him.”
Pope is still in disbelief.
“So does this mean you’ll go? To Simmons, I mean.”
JJ chews his lip, meeting Popes eyes. When he speaks his voice is softer than before.
“You could take it, you know. Textbooks are expensive. And rent-“
Pope meets JJ’s mouth in a kiss, swallowing the rest of his sentence. JJ’s lips are soft and he kisses like it’s still the first time, hesitant and loving.
Pope pulls away after a moment but keeps one hand threaded through JJ’s hair, locks their eyes again.
“If we’re going to build a life together in Boston, really, then we are both going to be chasing after what we want. Not just me, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah.”
“Even if it means things are a little harder, and our kitchen sink doesn’t drain and we have to buy our couch at a flea market. It will still be good. We will still be good.”
Pope releases JJ then, only for him to bump his sneaker against Popes. He’s smiling when Pope looks over.
“You know I put Harvard and Simmons into Google Maps months ago? They’re only a nine minute drive away. 3.5 miles.”
Pope laughs, a little giddy.
“Is that why you applied there?”
“It might’ve had something to do with it.”
They’re quiet for a moment, and JJ bumps their shoes together again.
“What are you thinking about?”
Pope stares off into the distance, through the trees.
He’s thinking about the first time they kissed. He’s thinking about that night in March when Pope realized he loved JJ more than he would ever love anything. He still does. Pope hopes he always will.
He considers responding to the question.
Instead he reaches over and takes one of JJ’s pale hands.
Pope holds it up to the corner of his mouth, and when he pulls it away gently he says, “I think our apartment in Boston should have blue curtains.”