“Ben, just stop. I don’t need to hear how this wasn’t real for you all along.”

“It was real, but what’s the point? You’re leaving the city in a week.”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut and he’s shaking. When he reopens his eyes, there’s so much hurt and anger. “So you’re going to stand there and act like this has all been in my head? All these first dates and meeting your parents and your friends and . . . everything.”

“It wasn’t—”

“Did you ever send Hudson his box?”

“What?”

“The box that you were going to mail the day we met.”

The rain is pounding on us.

I don’t say anything.

I can’t lie to him, and telling the truth is even worse.

Arthur shakes his head. “And this is why I don’t trust you. Hope you and Hudson have an awful life together.” He looks me in the eyes. “We’re over.”

I reach for his arm. “Arthur.”

“No! I’m done. I can’t wait to go home.”

I don’t think he’s talking about Uncle Milton’s place.

He walks away, and even though I’m a huge idiot, I’m smart enough to know better than to follow him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Arthur

Of course it’s raining. Of fucking course. I’m drenched to my boxers, water dripping from my eyelashes, and everything hurts. Everything’s broken.

Ben and Hudson. This whole time. Well done, universe. Way to prove you were never on our side. Way to prove you don’t even exist. There’s no plan and no fate. It’s only us. Only me trying too hard. Only Ben trying not hard enough. But hey—why bother trying for a guy you barely even know. Because I guess that’s how he sees me. Just some stupid tourist here to entertain him for the summer.

A sudden buzz in my pocket. I’ve got my phone rainproofed in a Ziploc, but I duck under an awning anyway. Just to peek. If it’s him, I’m not answering.

But it’s not. Surprise, surprise. It’s just Jessie, swooping in for an impromptu FaceTime. I tug it out of the bag and decline it—but then I feel bad, so I text her. Sorry, am outside and it’s raining

She writes back immediately. Can you go somewhere to talk? It’s kind of important.

My stomach drops. Kind of important. I don’t like that phrase at all. It’s too serious, too urgent. Maybe this is about the Complicated Thing. Only maybe it’s not just a Complicated Thing. Maybe it’s Complicated Bad News, really bad news, and she’s been trying to tell me for days. Maybe I’m a really bad friend.

Give me one sec

I don’t even stop to think. There’s a guy in a tank top letting himself into a nearby apartment building. “Hey!” I call. “Sorry, can you hold that. My keys are . . .”

I trail off, at a loss, but I guess I must have sold it, because tank top guy keeps his foot in the door long enough for me to slip in behind him.

The lobby’s kind of bare-bones—no couches, not even a bench. Just a small bank of mailboxes, a fake plant, and a single wooden chair. I collapse into it, feeling clammy and strange. Jessie accepts my FaceTime immediately.

She’s with Ethan—they’re on Ethan’s basement couch. I swallow. “Hi. Everything okay?”

“Um, Arthur, are you okay?”

“What?” I peek at my face in the little selfie box on my screen, and wow. I look like shit. Like steaming-hot shit. “I’m fine. I’m just wet.”

“Okay, good.”

She’s silent for a moment, and Ethan’s not looking at me.

“So . . . ,” I say finally. “What’s up?”

“Okay, I’m just going to come out with it.” She pauses, and my throat feels thicker with every passing second. I’ve never seen her like this.

“Jess?” I say softly.

She takes a deep breath, and then blurts it out fast. “I have a boyfriend.”

My heart skids to a stop. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you.” She smiles nervously.

I force myself to smile back. “A boyfriend. Wow.”

I mean, this is good. It’s a good thing. Especially considering that thirty seconds ago, I thought she might be dying. And yeah, I’m happy for her. Obviously. Even if it’s a little out of nowhere.

“Okay . . . so, what’s his name?”

“Well.” She glances sideways. “Ethan.”

“Really?”

“No, I mean, Ethan and I are a couple.”

I freeze. “A couple of what?”

“Very funny,” says Jessie. She doesn’t laugh.

“Wait. So.” My chest tightens. “You guys are like . . . a couple couple?”

Ethan nods. “Yes.”

“With each other?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Well.” Jessie smiles faintly. “Prom.”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah.” She twirls her hair. “Okay, remember that moment—they were playing that Chris Brown song, and we walked off the dance floor to protest, and we found Angie Whaley crying in the hallway, because Michael Rosenfield dumped her, and Ethan was like, that guy’s a dick—”

“He is a dick,” says Ethan.

“Right, but then she starts crying harder, and Arthur, you were hugging her, and I just kind of dragged Ethan away so he wouldn’t make it worse.” Jessie bites her lip. “Remember?”

“You hooked up when I was with Angie?”

“Kind of,” says Ethan.

I shake my head. “No.”

“I mean, that’s what happened,” Ethan says.

“You’re telling me you guys have been a couple for two months, and what? You didn’t think to mention it?”

“We tried! We tried so many times. But it was always weird timing, or you were talking about Ben—”

“Oh, right. This is about me and Ben. Of course—”

“No! Art, that’s not how I meant it. You’re allowed to be excited about Ben. He’s your first boyfriend—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I snap.

“WHAT?” Jessie and Ethan say, in creepy, near-perfect unison.

“That seems . . . major,” Ethan says. “Want to fill us in?”

“Weird that you don’t already know, seeing as I talk about him so much.”

“Arthur. Come on. We never said that!”

Wow. So, Ethan and Jessie are we. That’s beautiful. What a beautiful new era of our friendship. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Whatever. You guys should go make out or have sex or whatever it is—”

“Can we just talk about this?” Jessie says. “I don’t want this to be weird—”

“You don’t want this to be weird?” I laugh sharply. “You’re secretly dating and you didn’t tell me for months, but that’s not weird?”

Jessie sighs. “We wanted to tell you! Right away. And we were going to—but that was, you know. It was kind of like, What are we doing, is this going to be a thing, and we were just figuring everything out. And then, Arthur, you came out to us that night! So obviously, we weren’t going to steal your thunder—”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I ruined your moment by coming out. How inconvenient for you.”

“Dude, we didn’t want to ruin your moment.”

I stare Ethan down. “And since when do you care about my moment?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm, you’ve been weird around me since, let’s see, literally the second I told you I was gay.”

His mouth falls open. “You think I’m not cool with you being gay?”

“So, what, it’s just a coincidence that you haven’t texted me once outside the group chain since prom night? Do you even realize that?” I feel my eyes start to prickle. “We can’t even text without Jessie there to chaperone. But sure, you’re totally cool with it.”

Ethan looks like I’ve punched him. “I am totally cool with it.”