And I don’t speak a word of Spanish, but when I look at his face, I get it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ben
Monday, July 30
Summer has really stepped its game up.
I may have lost some pretty huge firsts to Hudson, but dating Arthur feels like a do-over. Every kiss with Arthur feels like discovery, like we become more comfortable with each breath. And we haven’t had sex yet, which is great. Not great like I didn’t want to do it, because wow, I really did and I still do. But great because we’re not falling outside of ourselves just to make the other person happier. I’m right for him and he’s right for me and that feels beyond right—the universe knew it was love before we did.
I still don’t know what comes next for us after Arthur leaves. His seventeenth birthday is on August 4. I don’t have the money to buy him something flashy, but my parents don’t really drop bank on gifts either. They make them. Instead of buying Pa a coffeemaker that would have to be replaced within a year, Ma made him an I love you, Diego mug that he cherishes. Like, if the apartment is on fire, he’s grabbing us and that mug. And instead of buying Ma a new prayer book, I helped Pa make an audio file of him reciting her favorite Bible verses to listen to every morning.
For my gift, I’m writing Arthur into The Wicked Wizard War. The small, mighty Arturo who is clueless to what chill is. He’s traveled from the land of Great Georgia to Ever York to build his reputation in some skills so he can gain access to House Yale. But then he meets Ben-Jamin, and the rest of the story is just going to be Ben-Jamin and Arturo becoming kings who make out a lot.
But before Arthur’s big day, we’re all celebrating the epic birthdays of Harry Potter and J. K. Rowling at Dylan’s tomorrow. We’re going to watch Sorcerer’s Stone and eat Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans and send a photo to J. K. Rowling on Twitter and see if she likes our tweet.
I’m so happy everything is coming together.
Though no matter how happy I am, summer school Mondays always especially suck. Thankfully there’s only ten minutes left and then later on I get to hang with Arthur. He’s going to help me study and then we’re having dinner with my parents and Dylan.
A flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder draws everyone’s eyes to the window. Harriett takes a moody photo that will get her more likes in an hour than I would get in a week. And Hudson is the only one staring at his desk, deep in thought, while everyone gets excited over the first rain of this blistering month. Hudson suddenly turns to me like he could feel my gaze on him, and from the corner of my eye I can see he’s still staring.
“Let’s call it a day,” Mr. Hayes says at the front of class. “Quiz tomorrow on identifying subatomic particles. Just hang tight until it’s time to go.”
Harriett flips around in her chair and talks to Hudson. That used to be me and her in English class. At the beginning, we would talk about what music we liked and then it became all things Hudson. Now we have awkward waves behind Hudson’s back.
Hudson gets out of his chair and comes my way, probably to use the back door to get to the bathroom sooner. But then he hovers over my side.
“Can I sit for a sec?”
“Uh. Sure.”
Suddenly Hudson and I are face-to-face for the first time since the second day of summer school. “How’s it going?” he asks, flicking his fingernails against each other.
“Um. Fine.” I really don’t know what this is. “Everything okay?”
“Been a while,” Hudson says.
“Yup.”
“I want to talk.”
“About what?”
Hudson takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about us. I know that’s done because of everything, and I . . . I saw a group picture of you at karaoke with Dylan and some guy—”
“You were looking into me? Aren’t you hashtag moving on—”
Damn. I outed myself. Guilty of the same crime.
Hudson grins. “You checked up on me too. Maybe we can just catch up instead of getting all life updates on Instagram. Try and be friends again. Harriett wants to hang too. She also misses you.”
Goose bumps run up my arms. I don’t like that Hudson has any effect on me. He’s the guy who kissed me and had sex with me and told me secrets and let me think something serious was going to happen. Everything would be so much easier if I could just be one of those ex-boyfriends who was happy that Hudson misses me and not care because I have an even more amazing boyfriend. But I really do want to be his friend. Harriett too. And the only reason I really, truly regret dating Hudson is because we couldn’t break up and be friends again. Maybe we can bounce back.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m having dinner with Arthur and Dylan later, but we can go chill for a bit.”
“Cool. No strings attached or weirdness,” Hudson says. “Maybe some weirdness.”
“Some weirdness is okay,” I say. “But I’m running when it gets too weird.”
“Like that time we kept calling Harriett ‘Mom’ like her followers?”
“Exactly. I mean, she’s seventeen. How is she a mother to all these fourteen-year-olds?”
Wow, maybe this will be a good thing. I’ll get my friends back and tell them all about Arthur, and if it’s not too weird for Arthur, maybe there’s a chance they can meet him before he leaves. Might be tough talking Arthur into that one, but I think he’ll come around. We can make it a group hangout with Dylan and Samantha too.
Mr. Hayes is heading out, and I promised my parents I’d get an update on my progress. “I’ll see you guys outside,” I say, getting up and chasing after him. He’s very fast for someone on crutches, and I’m convinced he’s not participating in a Spartan Race because he wouldn’t want to hurt the fragile male egos of his opponents.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Yeah?” Mr. Hayes asks as we slowly go down the stairs.
“Can I help you with your bag? Or crutch?”
“I got it. Thanks. So what’s up?”
“Are you liking my chances of passing next week’s final? I really don’t want to get left back.”
“I know school during the summer is no water park, but it’s important you study extra hard over the next week. You’re not failing the quizzes, but . . .”
“I’m not acing them either,” I say. Legit feel like I can throw up. If I suck at homework when I have the internet and textbooks at my disposal, then I’m going to completely fail when it’s just me and the blank page.
“You’ll get there, Ben. I’m going to be staying late a couple days next week for extra guidance. I do recommend spending extra time studying every night as we lead up to the final. Maybe get a group together and quiz one another,” Mr. Hayes says.
We walk outside the building. I’m about to ask which days he’ll be doing the extended classes when I see Arthur standing underneath a store’s awning, hiding out from the rain. He’s waving and smiling. I don’t know what he’s doing here, but my heart is hammering even harder than before.
I have to get rid of him.
“Okay-Mr.-Hayes-thanks-bye-be-careful-with-your-leg-the-steps-are-wet.”
I almost bust my ass running to Arthur, and he rushes toward me.
“Hey.” I grab his hand and drag him back under the awning. I hug him and kiss him and spin him so his back is to the school’s entrance. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“I’m ‘out sick,’” he says with air quotes. “Skipping for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to be with my boyfriend before his parents get home. I was thinking we could try again. You know.”
I keep looking to the entrance. Mr. Hayes passes us on his way to the train.
“Study hard,” Mr. Hayes says, leaning in for a fist bump.
“You got it,” I say. Is it possible to sweat while your face is already wet?
If I get out of this, I’m going to set everything right. Come on, universe.
“Who’s that guy?”
I don’t see Hudson, but maybe he came out the side exit. “Who?”
“The one you were talking to. The guy on the crutches.”
“Oh! Mr. Hayes. Yeah. That’s my teacher.”
“Cool.” Arthur is smiling. “So should we—”
“BEN!”
I could throw up. Hudson runs down the steps and please, please, please fall and don’t get up until Arthur and I are long gone. Arthur turns and he squints and it’s too late. It’s all too fucking late.
“Harriett can’t join us,” Hudson says, walking up to me. He turns to Arthur. “Hey, wait. You’re the panini guy, right? Ben, he’s the guy I met at Panera a few weeks ago—”
“What’s going on here, Ben?” Arthur is red. Pissed? Embarrassed? Both. I don’t know.
“It’s not what you think,” I say. Even though it’s true doesn’t make me any less of a cliché douchebag.
“What is he doing here?” Arthur asks.
Hudson takes a step back. “I’ll give you a sec.”
“Ben. Why is he here?”
“He’s in summer school too.”
Arthur looks like I just punched him in the face. Like I punched him in the heart. He turns his back on me and heads into the rain, dragging his messenger bag on the ground. I stay by his side.
“So, what, you just hang out with your ex-boyfriend after school? Does he even know about me? Are you two-timing both of us?”
“We were literally hanging out so we could talk about you!”
“Since when do you guys hang out at all?!”
“Today was going to be the first time, I swear!”
Arthur throws his messenger bag against the wall. “NO! You just got caught today. That’s the only first.” He crouches over, holding his stomach. “I’m going to throw up.” I put my hand on his lower back and he swipes me off of him. “DON’T TOUCH ME.”
“Arthur, please, hear me out. This looks bad. Catastrophic. But I promise you that I love—”
“What ass-backward world are you living in where your ex-boyfriend is more in the loop than your boyfriend?” Arthur stands straight. He grabs his messenger bag and we go on to the next block with a little more distance between us. “How come he gets to know about me but I don’t get to know about him?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” I say. “I tried to say something, but it just got harder and harder and looked worse and worse the longer I took and—”
“Then you should’ve just said something!”
“I should’ve, but nothing happened between us. I can’t control the fact that we’re both in summer school. Sorry we don’t have it together like you.”
“Don’t spin this around on me! I’m not pissed you’re in summer school, I don’t care about that. It would’ve been nice to know Hudson was there with you.”
“Oh yeah, like you would’ve been really chill about that. You clearly don’t even trust me. Why should you, we haven’t even known each other for a month.” I take a deep breath. “There were so many expectations and I honestly wasn’t sure we were going to be able to live up to them and then we did.”
“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.”
&
nbsp; “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—”
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