by F. T. Lukens
“Okay.” Leo looked up through his lashes, then started. “You’re bleeding,” Leo said, touching a cut on Bridger’s cheek. “And you’re covered in grass stains and you’re soaked? What the hell happened to you?”
“Not important,” Bridger said, leaning into Leo’s touch. “What happened with you? I missed the last bit of the game.”
Leo cupped Bridger’s face then trailed his hand down Bridger’s neck to grasp his shoulder. “I slipped running a route and missed the pass. It was intercepted, and the other team scored. I couldn’t keep my footing those last few minutes.”
“I’m sorry,” Bridger said again. He wasn’t, really, because the loss kept the myth world from being exposed, and it wasn’t death. And for that, Bridger was downright giddy. But he controlled his expression. He stepped closer. Leo had shucked his shoulder pads, but he hadn’t showered and wore a sweaty jersey. He placed a tentative hand on Leo’s chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. But it probably kicked us out of any chance at the state tournament, which sucks for the rest of the team. They worked so hard, you know?” He wrapped his hand around Bridger’s fingers and pressed Bridger’s hand more firmly against his chest.
Bridger gulped. “You worked hard, too.”
“Yeah, but it’s only football.”
That was not what Bridger expected to hear. Leo loved football. Leo was amazing at football. He wanted to win.
“Only football? But those scouts were here.”
Leo blinked. “Yeah, they were here for Zeke.”
“Wait?” Bridger shook off the spell of spent adrenaline, of exhaustion and relief. “They weren’t here for you? I’m confused.”
Leo ducked his head, his cheeks alight with a blush. “Football isn’t really my favorite. I’m much better at baseball.”
“Baseball? But I thought you were the football star?”
“I can’t be both?” he asked with a grin. “Football is a hobby. Baseball is life.”
Bridger floundered. “I’m literally lost right now.”
“I signed my baseball scholarship to State last year, as a junior.” Leo scratched the back of his neck. “Baseball is kind of my thing.”
Bridger laughed, breathless, and giddy.
“Are you serious?”
Leo laughed. “Yeah.”
“How has this never come up before?”
“I don’t like to talk about it. It sounds like bragging.”
Bridger had never felt overwhelming fondness before, but he felt it then. He cupped Leo’s cheeks and rested his forehead against Leo’s.
“You’re the literal best person.”
Leo held Bridger’s hands in place. “Nah, I’m just a guy.”
Bridger made a noise of disbelief, but it was cut off by Leo’s mouth on his. They kissed, outside of the stadium, with Bridger’s arms wrapped around Leo’s waist and Leo’s hands in his hair. They kissed and kissed until Bridger started to shiver. The warmth of adrenaline finally left him, reminding him that he’d spent hours in the cold rain running from myths. They kissed until Leo’s dad called for him. And then they kissed one last time.
“See you tomorrow, right?” Leo asked, his bright smile firmly back in place.
Butterflies fluttered in Bridger’s middle. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Bundled up in five blankets, sipping hot tea, feet tucked under him in Pavel’s high-backed chair in his study, Bridger allowed himself to be fussed over by two anxious pixies. They fussed over Astrid as well, and she couldn’t stop smiling, though her eyes were heavy-lidded. Running around in the rain and beating a hag with a hockey stick obviously sapped a lot of strength.
Pavel studied the sightings board, unwilling to take it down, just in case.
“So you kissed him?” Nia asked, hovering.
“Yep.”
“Wow. Good for you,” Bran said. He poured more hot tea in Bridger’s cup. “I can’t believe that was all it took.”
“I really can’t either,” Bridger said. “Any explanation, Pavel?”
Pavel had showered and changed. He wore pajamas and a robe and slippers that looked like bear feet. He turned and tapped his chin.
“My best guess is that you kissing him represented a choice. Before that you wavered about the relationship, unable to commit.”
Astrid snorted. “Understatement. He was hot and cold, yes then no, up then down.”
“Are you quoting Katy Perry lyrics at me?”
Pavel snapped his fingers. “Singer.”
Bridger would’ve clapped if his hands were free. As it was, one held a cup, and the other was buried under a mountain of blankets. “Good job, Pavel. We’ll get you educated in pop culture, yet.”
“Anyway,” Pavel said. “You created a temptation by playing hard to get, however unwittingly it may have been. But when you kissed him, you solidified a choice. You ceased to be a temptation and became an ally.”
Nia leveled Bridger with a look. “You should’ve kissed him sooner.”
“Quiet, you.”
Nia huffed and flew over to Astrid to dote.
“So what happens after metaphorical death?” Astrid asked, sipping her own tea. “Do we need to worry?”
“I don’t think so. The hero is usually given a boon or a gift to share with mankind. Or as we’ve discussed before, the story could end there.” Pavel shrugged. He turned back to his board. “We’ll cross that bridge if we have to.”
Bridger rolled his eyes. “Not funny.”
Nia and Bran giggled. Astrid snorted, then yawned. Nia tutted and guided Astrid to lie on the couch and within a few minutes, Astrid was asleep. They would have to figure out something to tell their parents, especially since Bridger was still technically grounded.
Bridger stifled his own yawn.
The last time he had been in Pavel’s home, they’d had a huge fight. And he did feel a little guilty about that and the ensuing days. Okay, a lot guilty. He’d thrown everything Pavel worked for in his face, then stomped out.
“Hey, so, you know, I am sorry about before.” Bridger sipped his tea. “I, uh, was out of line.”
Pavel smiled softly. Without the stress of the myths out of their cycles, the lines around his eyes and mouth had disappeared. He smiled easier. It was a good look for him.
“You’re forgiven. But next time, let’s work on a solution together.”
Bridger nodded. “There’s going to be a next time?”
“Of course. You’re still my assistant.”
Smiling, Bridger drank his tea. “That’s awesome. Um, what would have happened if I had finished my sentence that day and committed to quitting?”
Pavel smiled. “The house.”
“The house?”
“You’re not the first assistant I’ve had. And you well know that I can’t allow people to know our secrets.”
“The house does something?”
“The house revokes privileges. It pitches you out the side door, and you forget everything you’ve learned about myths, the world, et cetera. Basically, you think you’ve quit a rather boring job filing for an eccentric researcher.”
Bridger’s mouth dropped open. “Whoa. I didn’t even know there was a side door.”
“I hope you never have to use it.”
“I don’t want to.” Pavel raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious. I want to stay.”
“Yes, well, good assistants are hard to find. And Nia and Bran adore you, so, if I want happy pixies, then you’ll need to stay on.”
“Oh, Pavel,” Bridger said, setting his cup down. “Don’t get all teary eyed on me. I don’t know how I would handle it.”
“Yes, well, if you must know, I count you as a good friend and I don’t have many of those, other than Elena, and I think you and Astrid and Leo could change the myth world as
we know it. For the better. So, if you’re interested, I think I’d quite like to expand the team.”
Bridger’s smile was so wide his cheeks hurt. “I think that would be awesome.”
Pavel crossed the room and held out his hand. Bridger took it and shook. “Well, I guess this changes a few things.”
“Like what?”
“For one, I better write up a quick application for State so I can stick around. And two, we have to let Leo in on everything.”
“You’re not going to leave?”
Bridger snuggled into the blankets. “Nah. The whole point of leaving was to be able to be myself. I think I can do that right here. Actually, I know I can do that right here.” He could. He had his mom. He had Leo. He had Astrid. He had Pavel. He had two pixies and a werewolf. Where else would he have an awesome support system like that?
“I’m glad. Now, let’s figure out a way to get you and Astrid home before you’re grounded even longer.”
Bridger yawned. “Good idea.”
Sneaking home through the portal was the best idea anyone had ever had. Bridger popped right into his bedroom, waved the portal goodbye, then set out to take a shower. Then he bundled up in sweatpants and a soft T-shirt and got ready for bed.
“Bridge?” His mom knocked on his room door. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
She pushed the door open. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She stretched and yawned. “I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch.”
“Yeah. You were passed out, so I came up here and took a shower.”
She padded in wearing bunny slippers and pink striped pajamas. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she raised an eyebrow at Bridger’s chair and blankets piled by the window.
“How was the game?” she asked.
“Good. Well, not good. We lost.” Bridger pulled his blanket off the chair and brought it to the bed. He sat next to her. “But I kissed Leo in front of the whole school, so there’s that.”
“Oh? And how did that go?”
“Reports vary,” Bridger said with a smile. “But I think it’ll be okay.”
She ruffled his wet hair, then made a face. “Good for you, kid. Well, I’m going to turn in. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
She stood and headed for the door.
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
Bridger played with a frayed edge of his blanket. “I think I’m going to apply to State.” He shrugged. “As an option.” He looked up.
His mom smiled softly. “I think that’s a great idea. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night, kid.”
She closed the door softly. Bridger fell back into the pillows and smiled at the ceiling. He wrapped himself in his blanket and between one breath and the next, he was asleep.
Bridger didn’t know what to expect from Homecoming. He only knew he was nervous. Leo had texted him about the reactions to their kiss. So far, all had been positive. That didn’t mean Bridger wasn’t crawling out of his skin with anxiety. Also, the last time he went to a school dance, vomit was involved. He didn’t want a repeat.
By the time Leo and his parents swung by their house, Bridger was a ball of nerves. He didn’t need to be. The moment Leo took his hand, the tension eased out of Bridger’s bones.
Bridger’s mom made a fuss and took embarrassing pictures. So did the Rivera’s, and it was exactly like everything he’d seen on TV and the movies. They set a time for curfew, and the trio of parents waved at them as they left.
“Parents,” Bridger muttered.
“Right? So weird,” Leo said. “They insisted on walking over to your house since we live across the street. How embarrassing.”
Bridger laughed.
Leo drove.
They ate at a diner and Bridger made sure Leo didn’t order the fish tacos.
At the dance, they drank punch and met up with a crowd of Leo’s friends. Zeke congratulated them with a sly smile.
Leo was not crowned Homecoming King. Zeke was, and Bridger and Leo clapped and yelled with the crowd.
Then, they danced. They danced and danced and danced until Bridger was breathless, giddy with exertion and laughter, and his feet were sore in his dress shoes.
They kissed. They kissed and kissed and kissed until his lips were numb and the chaperones gave them disapproving looks.
They held hands. They shared cookies and sang along to the songs they knew.
Bridger hadn’t known what to expect, but he had a blast as Leo twirled him around the dance floor.
And no one batted an eye.
“Hey,” Bridger said, laughing, as Leo pulled him toward the car. His tie was undone, his hair was a mess, and his nice shirt was untucked and clinging to his sweaty skin. The dance was officially over, but the night was young and they had time until curfew. “I want to go somewhere.”
Leo’s eyes sparkled. His cheeks were flushed from dancing and kissing, and his hair stood up on end. He had his suit jacket draped over his shoulder. “Yeah? Where do you want to go?”
Bridger grinned.
A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of Pavel’s house.
“You want to come to work?” Leo asked. “Seriously? Did someone spike your punch?”
Bridger unbuckled his seat belt. When he’d texted Astrid with the idea during the dance, Astrid had alerted Pavel. They had already planned to invite Leo into the fold, since he was a myth himself, and Bridger couldn’t wait. “This will be amazing. Trust me.”
Leo looked unimpressed. He shrugged. “Okay. I trust you.”
Hand in hand, they stumbled down the sidewalk, through the overgrown lawn, and up the porch steps. Bridger stopped Leo in front of the door.
“What are we doing here? Is there a good place to make out in there?”
Bridger laughed. “Yeah, there are a couple of spots. But I just… wanted you to meet my family.”
Leo cocked his head. “I’ve met your mom.”
“I know. But consider these people my extended family. And they’re on the other side of the door. It might be weird though, so if you don’t want to, let me know now.”
Leo smiled. “I can handle weird.”
“Yeah,” Bridger kissed Leo’s grin. “I know you can.”
Bridger touched the brass handle, and the door swung inward, welcoming them. Together, they stepped over the threshold.
* * *
Six Weeks Later
“Hey, Nia,” Bridger said into the mirror. “What’s up?”
Leo rested his chin over Bridger’s shoulder; his arms were wrapped around Bridger’s waist. “Hi, Nia!”
She smiled and fluttered, pink glitter flying around her. “Hello, you two. I’m sorry to bother you on your day off, but Astrid and Bran are assisting Ogopogo with writing a letter to his cousin, and Pasha and Elena are out together. And I need a favor.”
“I’ve got about an hour until preseason baseball practice,” Leo said. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of Bridger’s neck. “But otherwise, we’re free.”
“Oh, it won’t take that long.”
“Sure, we can help.” Bridger said.
“Great! I need you to pick up a few things from the apothecary. I already had Pasha mirror over a list.”
“I bet Grandma Alice enjoyed that.” Nia fluttered and pressed a hand to her mouth to smother her laugh. “We’ll run by and pick it up.”
“Thank you. See you in a few minutes.”
“Send Mindy my love,” Bridger said with a wink.
Nia rolled her eyes. The mirror winked out.
Bridger and Leo left the equipment shed, which had become the place to answer calls on their mirrors, and headed to the parking lot to Leo’s mo
m’s car. They held hands; Leo’s palm was warm and comforting against Bridger’s.
“The apothecary?” Leo asked.
“Oh yeah, Grandma Alice will love you. I think.” Bridger squinted. “She’s kind of hard to read sometimes.”
He laughed. “Okay, sounds good. Want to study later?”
“My mom is working, so Jeopardy and pizza after practice?”
Leo tugged Bridger in for a kiss. “Sounds great.”
Bridger grinned. He threw his bag in the back seat and slid into the front. He waited while Leo said goodbye to a few of his friends.
Playing with Leo’s iPod, Bridger couldn’t believe how he’d ended up here—he had a boyfriend, he had a family, he hoped he had an acceptance letter to State coming soon. Only a few short months ago, Bridger had planned to run away, start a new life in a new place because that was the only way he could think of to be himself. Now, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Who knew answering a random Craigslist ad would change all that? Who knew the path he was supposed to stumble down wasn’t the straight and narrow one he’d envisioned, but was the one that was windy and treacherous with potholes and oncoming traffic?
He hadn’t. Now, he was thankful with every fiber of his being that he’d climbed up the back of a creepy house in September and entered through a blue door.
Leo shoved his bag inside and plopped onto the front seat.
“Sorry about that. Zeke had questions about physics homework.”
“No problem.”
“So, ready to go?” Leo asked, starting the car. He flashed Bridger a flirty grin. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Bridger smiled, fond and happy. “I’m great.”
The End
Acknowledgments
The first cryptid I ever had knowledge of or experience with was the Loch Ness Monster. Growing up, I lived a few miles from Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Virginia. At the time, the biggest, fastest, scariest roller coaster was a yellow monstrosity of steel track with interlocking rings that towered over the Rhine River in the Heatherdowns section of the park. The waiting queue was filled with fake diving equipment, grainy images of a sea monster, and an old video tape played on small television sets mounted in the high corners of the wooden waiting area that detailed failed expeditions to find the creature. Before I was tall enough to ride, I would stand on the bridge under the towering rings (the only interlocking rings in the world) and wait for my older, braver siblings as they screamed through twists, turns, and drops, and went upside down. Riding the Loch Ness was a coming-of-age milestone, something to brag about when disembarking on shaky legs with a raw throat. I don’t remember my first ride—what age I was or who I was with—but I do remember the fluttery feeling I got in my stomach, because even now as an adult, when I visit and stand in line, I get that familiar anxious twist when I hear the click-clack of the coaster ascending to that first formidable drop.
