Free Food for Thought by Amy Lane

traced the wrinkles in his nose and forehead. A whimsical little smile replaced the scowl, which let Emmett know whatever he was doing was working.
    “I like to hear you laugh. See you smile. It’s like… my best thing. And this Chico thing—it’s all heavy emotional bullshit. And it won’t make you smile.”
    “Will it let you smile? Will it let you and me be a thing?”
    Emmett nodded soberly. “I would very much like to be a thing.”
    “You mean you’d very much like to touch my thing again.”
    “Well, that too. But yeah.”
    Keegan sniffed disdainfully. “Then sign me up. I am all for emotional clarity and bullshit. Who the hell needs beet porridge when there’s trips to Chico!”
    Emmett nodded and dropped his hand, but Keegan grabbed it on its way down. “Here. I’ll make us some sandwiches, you go pack a travel bag for us. Just… you know. Pack me stuff I don’t hate. And make sure we get a toothbrush.”
    “But… but Kee —you live right next door. Why don’t you just go and get—”
    “No,” Keegan said grimly. “Nope nope nope. Do you really think, after eating my heart out for a year , that I’d be willing to let you out of my sight now , right when we’re about to cut through the crap?”
    Emmett felt a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Would you really have broken up with your boyfriend via text? For me ?”
    “Why is that so hard to believe?” Keegan squeezed his hand.
    “Because,” Emmett said, wishing he could do more than gesture. “I’m… I’m ordinary . And sad. And… I mean, c’mon. Guy crying in his underwear—that doesn’t say pathetic to you?”
    Keegan shook his head and brought Emmett’s knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss. “You know, until just this minute, I don’t think I could put my finger on why you, but I’ve got it now.”
    “What? Why me?”
    “Because, when your girlfriend comes crashing in on us having sex —which, by the way, has never actually happened to me before—you know what the first thing you did was?”
    “Wish I was dead?”
    “Shut up,” Keegan snapped. “No. It was protect me . Because you were crying in your underwear, heartbroken, and you offered me coffee, and invited me to your table. Because you fed your worthless feline before you sat down to cookies. Because even when you were apparently celibately two-timing your girlfriend, you went out of your way to be nice to both of us. Who can do that? I don’t even hate her. That’s the power you , Emmett. She walked out of here not hating you—she probably considers you two friends . Because you’re just that decent, and I’ll put actual money—which I don’t have!—down on the fact that today, you and me in bed, was probably the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
    “And the best,” Emmett said, because he couldn’t deny it.
    Keegan nodded. “See? Even when you probably feel like shit about it, you’re not going to let me feel like that. So yeah. I would have broken up with my worthless ex for you in a second. I’m going to follow you to Chico now. But first go pack your bags and let me make sandwiches. God, you’re white as a fucking ghost.”
    Emmett released Keegan’s hand and went to take his cleaning supplies to tuck under the sink. On his way he said, “Are ghosts doing that now? I really thought all of their ghostly… uhm… hard things were soft.”
    “Ha-ha!” Keegan fake laughed. “Look who’s all punny all of a sudden. Now scoot !”
     
     
    A N HOUR later—after putting the last load of laundry in the drier and leaving extra food and water for George—they were on their way. Emmett had to stop for gas, and for more food, because, well, he had to catch up, but eventually they were on their way, the sun trying to cook them dead through the windshield in a molten blast of gold light.
    They were probably halfway there when Keegan asked the hard question.
    “So,” he said after a slurp of soda, “are you ever going to tell me? I mean,