• • •

It's too cold to be on the beach, but we're on the beach. It's absolutely silent, grey waves slapping hard sand beneath a dark, unforgiving sky. It's hardly romantic, and yet somehow it is, the two of us wrapped together in at least four layers each, plus a blanket wound around both of us. Long gone are the days of burying my feet in warm sand: now I'm wearing thick socks and boots and a coat that barely fastens over my sweater.

After a moment's peace, just staring out at the endless water and the low clouds that are barely distinguishable from the pitch black sky, Liam laughs. The sudden noise makes me jump and knock my head against his.

"What's so funny?" I ask, rubbing my temple.

"This." He spreads out one arm, the other around me, and laughs again. "It's forty degrees and we're on the freaking beach. We're the only ones crazy enough to even leave the house."

"You'd never been here before," I say. I have to stifle a yawn. The cold makes me tired, deepening the urge to cuddle up in front of a heater. "I wanted to show you."

"I love it," he says, settling against me again. "I'd love to live so close to the beach."

"Is it really a beach if the water is a lake?"

"Yes, when the lake might as well be an ocean," he says. "It has waves. We're sitting on sand. It's a beach." He pulls his knees up closer to his chest. "But also it's really freaking cold. You're only so warm, I'm afraid."

"I'm freezing," I admit with a laugh. "I just love how peaceful it is."

Liam's dad already left Cleveland so it won't be long before he's here, and I wanted a bit of alone time with Liam before he leaves. This felt like the perfect place. Silent. No-one around. We could watch the stars.

We did watch the stars, until the clouds settled in and blocked out the weak light from the moon. It feels far later than seven o'clock, but we watched as the sun set at five and the world slowly lost its colour, taking with it any warmth there was.

"Let's head back," he says, his words almost a whisper. "I think my balls have shriveled up."

"Then I guess we should head back." We struggle to our feet, hindered by layers, and trudge up the short beach to begin the walk home. It's only fifteen minutes, but it feels so much longer in the dark, with only the occasional streetlight dotted throughout the town. I swear Five Oaks is stuck in the past.

We walk hand in hand, taking a little more time to get back than usual. It's a struggle to balance the cold setting into my bones, and the tiredness: I want to move fast, to get home and warm up, but I physically can't walk faster than this. My fingers are stiff and frozen, my toes more like ice cubes.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I say when my teeth start to chatter.

"I loved it," Liam says, "but I can't feel my hands."

We pick up the pace and we're a couple of shivering messes by the time we make it back to the house. The heating greets us like an old friend, thawing us out as we peel off cold layers and slouch into the living room to warm up. When Mom comes in from the kitchen, a look of worry gives way to relief.

"I was just about to call," she says. "I was beginning to think you two had frozen out there."

"Just about," Liam says, raking a hand through his hair, dampened by the cold in the air. "It's so beautiful out there, though. This is such a wonderful town."

Mom beams, a soft smile that lights up her whole face and makes her eyes sparkle. "It really is, isn't it? I love living here. I used to think my heart was in the city, but now I realize it's here." She sits down and passes me her coffee to warm my hands. The ceramic is deliciously warm against my palms.

Tad joins us, perched next to Mom. They fit together in a way I never thought she'd fit with anyone after Dad. They look right together; they look comfortable. She sinks against him; he tucks his arm around her. Every flicker of body language is natural, filled with the kind of love that just works.

Heavy footsteps precede Gray's entrance, swooping into the room and dropping down next to Liam on the sofa. He slings his elbow over the arm and crosses his knees, his cheeks flushed pink the way they always are when he gets off the phone with Navya.

"I can't believe you went to the beach," he says, snagging a cookie from the plate his dad brought in. "It's freezing out there. You're crazy."

"It's romantic," I say. "The stars were out, before it got cloudy. And it was peaceful."

Gray wrinkles his nose. "I think I prefer warmth to romance," he says. "But don't tell Nav that."

I laugh and say, "I doubt it'll ever come up in conversation."

We haven't been back long when Liam's dad turns up. I can't help the nervous flutter in my stomach when I hear his car pull up outside the house, even though I know I don't need to fear him. He just intimidates me, and I hate the thought of him judging where I live.

Three short knocks. Mom gets up before either of us can. She just wants to meet Vitaly while she has a chance. Liam has his stuff all ready, waiting by the door. He was only ever going to be here for today and I've been with him non-stop for five days, but I still feel a shred of melancholy that he has to go.

It's strange, after so many years of treasuring my own company, years of thriving on being alone and recharging away from my friends. But I never had the right friends before Five Oaks. Now I'm never without Gray, and hardly ever without Liam when I'm in South Lakes, and they don't drain me.

Liam sighs and stands, stretching out and letting his shoulders drop. "I should go and rescue your mom from my dad," he says. "Hopefully he hasn't started doling out quizzes to the parents of his kids' girlfriends."

Tad and Gray are talking. While they're distracting each other, Liam's hand drops to my waist and he kisses me, softly and slowly with still-cool lips. His nose is cold, pressing into my cheek, and his gentle smile is irresistible when he pulls away.

"Love you more than there are stars in our sky," he murmurs before he has to go. His dad gives me the smallest hint of a smile, more of a courtesy, and a nod when he sees me. He looks as severe as ever, but when he leaves, he gives Mom a real smile and wishes us a happy Thanksgiving.

"He seems ... interesting," she says when we come back inside. "I see what you mean now. He is rather intimidating. Very stern."

"Terrifying," I say, but that's not entirely true. I've seen how he is with Allie and Daria. He has a soft side. I think the sternness is just an act.

Once Liam's gone, the four of us settle into a gentle evening. Tad has cooked and we end up eating on our laps, watching a movie in the living room. We even have a proper wood fire burning in the fireplace, smoke rising from crackling wood. Gray and I tuck up under a blanket; Mom and Tad are curled together like a pair of long-lost puzzle pieces.

We really are a family, I think as I glance around the room. Thanksgiving will be a little easier this year.

• • •

I wake up on Thursday morning when I hear the creak of my bedroom door during a moment of light sleep, and I see Gray sneaking into my room through bleary eyes. I sit up, after checking that I haven't spilled out of my pajamas in the night, and my eyes slowly adjust to my dim room. Even with the curtains open, it's dark in here.

"What're you doing?" I ask, seeing spots when I rub my eyes a little too hard. He's carrying a tray of bagels, fruit and juice.

"I made Thanksgiving breakfast in bed for Dad and Jen but they appear to be, uh, showing their thanks," he says, "so now we're gonna eat it."

"Oh my God. You didn't walk in on them, did you?"

"No," he splutters. "I'm no idiot. I listened for signs of life," he says. "And I heard them. So now we're eating bagels."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly eight," he says. It feels way earlier. The dingy November sky is blocking out any hint of light. "Happy Thanksgiving, by the way." He puts a glass of juice in my hand and takes the other, clinking them together. "I'm thankful for you."

"I'm thankful for you too," I say. "I never thought I'd find a best friend when we moved here. I thought my life was over. Thanks for everything, Gray."

He throws his arms around me, almost spilling both our glasses. "You're my rock and I love you a lot," he says. "On a scale of eight to forty, you're ... a billion when it comes to how great a friend and a human you are. I'm so freaking glad I can call you my sister and my best friend."

"Where would I be without you?"

"Well, you probably wouldn't have got with Liam," he says. "I take full credit for giving you that push. Not that you owe me or anything."

I scoff at him. "Remind me, who was it who told you to talk to Navya? Who told you that she had a huge crush on you? Hmm?"

His cheeks redden and he lets out a laugh. "Ok, we're even," he says. "Thanks, by the way. You broke my dating curse. Unless Nav's just playing the long game and she's waiting for the most devastating time to break my heart."

"You're an idiot," I say, bumping against his shoulder. "She adores you. You two are perfect."

"So are you and your hot frat boy," he says.

"If you keep saying stuff like that, he'll think you have a crush on him. I'll think you have a crush on him."

"I'm just pointing out a very fine human specimen," he says. "Anyone can objectively see that Liam is a beautiful man, who happens to be in a fraternity. He's a hot frat boy, you're a sexy bookstore girl. Together, you're a cute college couple." He laces his fingers together and grins, and munches on a bagel when he's satisfied that he's made his point.

I won't lie, Gray's confidence in my relationship has really boosted my own confidence. He believed in me when I didn't, even back when we were still getting to know each other. I couldn't have done any of this without him by my side, being my rationality when I lost my own.

• • •

Kris is coming over for lunch. It feels like forever since I last saw him. It's crazy when he lives as far from me as I live from college, and yet I drive there and back five times a week. I feel guilty for not making more time for him, but the majority of my free time is spent on Liam and Gray.

When he arrives, I practically run to him, the two of us locking in a tight hug. A strange wave of nostalgia crushes me as I wrap my arms around him. Now that he's here, the family is complete. My entire living family, and my new family, all in one place.

Kris has tears in his eyes when we pull apart.

"Hey, are you ok?" I ask, nervous dread slowly pouring in.

"I'm great," he says, grinning. "I just missed you, húg. I'm the worst uncle."

"You're the best," I say, and I'm sure it'd be true even if I had more than one.

Mom comes out and she and Kris nearly knock each other out when they greet each other like a couple of kids. He grabs her hand as soon as they pull apart, inspecting her new engagement ring. I've gotten used to seeing it glisten on her finger, one sparkling ring where there used to be two, but this is the first time we've seen Kris since Tad proposed.

"I'm so happy for you, nővér. Where's my future brother-in-law?"

It's still strange. I'm not going to act like the whole situation is totally normal to me yet because it's not. Sometimes I get a weird feeling when I think about Mom marrying Tad, that he's going to be my stepdad. It's not a bad feeling, just a strange one. Like an electric shock that jolts me for a moment. It always subsides after a moment, when I see them hug or I catch the way Tad looks at Mom, the way she looks at him.

Today's a mash of traditions.

Mom had never celebrated Thanksgiving before she met Dad, so all of our traditions are ones that his family put together, a Hungarian take on American customs. Tad and Gray bring a Japanese twist to the side dishes. Rather than marshmallow-topped yams, Tad makes onigiri – rice balls – and Kris cooks up tócsni, these little fried potato patties.

It's perfect. When the five of us hold hands, united by grace when Mom says a quiet prayer and we share our thanks, I don't struggle to find things I'm grateful for. It has been such a different story for the past two years, but now there's no shortage. I'm thankful for Gray and Tad, for moving to Five Oaks, for finding my feet at college, for Liam. I'm thankful for closure, and for Dad's slowly-growing tree. I'm thankful for everything it has taken for Mom and me to get here.

I say as much. Mom cries. Gray looks like he's on the edge of happy tears. He squeezes my hand a little tighter and nudges my foot under the table, and he nervously clears his throat when it's his turn to speak. If anyone looked through the window right now, they'd see what looks like a strange cult linking hands around a candlelit table. I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Well," Gray starts, "obviously I'm thankful for everyone here. I can't explain how much better life is with you guys around." He looks at Mom and me. "Most of all, though, I'm thankful for this turkey. This is some freaking incredible turkey."

"On a scale of one to ten?" Tad teasingly asks. Gray rolls his eyes.

"Such a bland scale, Dad," he says, "but it's an easy ten. The best I've ever had."

It is. Everything about the meal is perfect. The food; the company; the conversation. I love watching how easily Kris and Tad interact, how smoothly Gray and his dad have become part of my family.

When we're stuffed to move after spending hours around the table, Kris and I end up sprawled across one sofa. Gray's fast asleep across the room and Mom and Tad have gone for a bracing walk in the cold, so it feels as though we're totally alone as he tries over and over to French braid my hair.

"Finally found something you can't do," I joke when the plait falls apart again.

"I just need practice. I'm gonna buy a mannequin's head when I'm home," he says, shifting to get a better grip. "So, things are still going well with your boyfriend?"

"They're great." I grin at the wall I'm facing while he tugs at my hair. He's not nearly as gentle as Liam, whose expert fingers weave my waves together without making me wince. "I love him."

"I gathered," Kris says. "Nővér says you're really smitten, and that he's a lovely boy."

"Did you tell her you met him way before she did?"

"No way. I think she'd be a bit offended," he says with a laugh. "Your dad happened to meet my first boyfriend before she did and she was upset, until I got her to realize it was a total accident. Nővér likes to be in the know. It's all out of love."

"I know. I felt bad for not telling her about Liam until I did," I say, running my fingers over a loose, bumpy, but semi-formed braid. Kris slaps my hand away. "I had to be ready, though. I had to be sure."

"Mmm. Absolutely. You seem pretty sure now."

"Absolutely. I have no doubts." I purse my lips and think back over every insecurity I had to battle to get to this point, from the smallest uncertainty to the mindsets that have ruled me for my whole life. "He's shown me a new version of me," I say. When Kris says nothing, waiting for elaboration, I give him what he wants.

"The old Storie worried about every tiny thing," I say. "I was so convinced that no guy would ever love me unless I was slim, and I was convinced that it was all a joke. I knew it would be easier just to not even try to date than to get shot down over and over. But he's proven me wrong."

I have to remind myself to relax my tense shoulders, letting go of the tension that ekes its way into my body when I talk about the things I usually keep to myself. I hate saying my insecurities out loud because the last thing I want is pity or reassurance. "It took a guy loving me to realize that a guy would ever love me, and I don't really care if that's cliché of me or, like, bad feminism."

"Hey, whatever it takes for you to be happy," Kris says. "I totally get you, you know. Maybe from a different angle, but I know the feeling. Before I came out, I got it into my head that no-one would ever love me if I did. It made no sense, of course, because as soon as I did come out and nővér and Lev didn't disown me, I learnt how to love myself a bit more. Turns out that helps an awful lot."

He lets go of a failing braid and runs his hands through my hair to brush it out. "Everyone deserves to love themselves. Especially you, Storie. You're such a phenomenal young woman. I'm so proud to be related to you."

He finishes with my hair, not perfect but close enough, and comes to sit on the other side of me.

"If I ever have a daughter, I know she'll grow up right with an aunt like you. She'll the luckiest kid in the world to have you there to point her in the right direction."

"Is this your way of telling me you're having a kid?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "Not even close, so don't hold your breath. I don't even remember when I last went on a date. Maybe now that you're so loved up, you can do a bit of matchmaking for your poor old uncle?"

"Cleveland probably has more options than Five Oaks," I say with a laugh. "I'll keep my eye out for eligible bachelors."

"You're a real one." He gives me a high five. The slap of our hands wakes up Gray. He blinks at us and a mammoth yawn escapes him.

"What'd I miss?" he asks as he pulls himself up. Thanksgiving has knocked us all out a bit. I could curl up and sleep right now.

"We were just talking about how awesome Storie is," Kris says, "though I doubt I need to tell you that."

Gray grins and comes over to our sofa, wrestling his way between us so he can hug me, looking at Kris. "She's better than awesome," he says. "She's a million on a scale of two to twelve. Totally off the charts. One in seven billion."

Kris chuckles at that. "And I trust you've vetted this Liam guy?"

Gray takes a deep breath and nods, his face serious. "After months of careful observation, I can confirm that her boyfriend is actually good enough for her. Though he's punching above his weight." He slings his arms around me. "I'm not sure any guy I know could match up to my best friend."

"You're my eyes, Gray," Kris says. "I want reports."

"Guys, come on." I roll my eyes at him and shake Gray off, though I won't say it isn't flattering that they both care so much. "Kris, I'll bring Liam next time I come to see you. How about that?"

He thinks it over and nods. "Sounds like a plan. I can vet him properly." He pauses, takes a breath. "I mean it, though. Bring him. I'll treat you guys to dinner or something, and there's plenty of space in my apartment. You're always welcome."

Gray pouts. "What about me?"

"Anytime, my favourite soon-to-be step-nephew," Kris says, "anytime. You know my door's always open, guys. Whatever you need. I have a couple of sturdy shoulders and a very nice spare room. And while I'm not the best at advice, I am an expert in unconditional love."

• • •