Huizhong’s home always had that holiday atmosphere. It had taken Kendall three years to realize that this wasn’t about the atmosphere itself — not about the apartment, the time of the year, or the food served, but rather about Huizhong himself. It was their third year coming to Huizhong’s for Christmas. They were excited about it, which they thought spoke volumes about the situation. Kendall was the last one to arrive. When Huizhong opened his door, his dimple...

“Is that a snowman, Talcott?” Kendall had meant to say it in a completely normal, non-judgemental way. It didn’t come out like that at all. It came out as though they were sneering at him, and they tried to backtrack a little, but they couldn’t think of anything to say. At least nothing that would make the situation more bearable and themself seem like less of an asshole. Goddamn it, Kendall. “It looks good,” Kendall said in the end. “The snowman, that is....