What If It's Us
Page 50
“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.”
“Yeah, well that’s not—”
“Arthur, we knew you were gay.”
My heart jumps into my throat. “What?”
“I mean, we didn’t know, but we figured. You’re not really subtle . . . about anything.”
“So, wait. You knew I was gay, but you pretended you didn’t—”
“Art, it wasn’t like that,” Jessie says. “We just wanted you to be able to come out when you were ready.”
“And you were just going to act surprised when I told you. That was the plan, huh?”
“No. Not at all—”
“I love that y’all had, like, a whole strategy for this. That’s just great.” I nod. “That must have been very interesting for you guys to talk about behind my back. In between makeouts. Wow. Any more secrets you’d like to fill me in on?”
“Arthur! God. I knew you were going to make this awkward.”
“Oh, I’m the one making it awkward? You guys have been dating! All summer!”
“I know. And we tried—”
“Listen, I’m not weird about you being gay,” Ethan says suddenly. He presses a hand to his forehead. “I’m weird about Jess. Okay? This is new for me, too. I don’t know how to do this. It’s like, I wanted to tell you everything, the way you do about Ben—”
“Wow.” I laugh harshly. “I guess it’s your lucky day, then, because guess who I never want to talk about ever—”
“No. Arthur.” Ethan looks pained. “That’s not what I meant. Okay. This isn’t—look, I know our timing sucks, but now you know, and I guess that’s . . . that. And I’m sorry. But dude, I just need you to know that I don’t have any issues with you. I never have. It’s just that we were trying to find the right way to tell you, and we wanted to do it together, and then it dragged on for so long, it started to feel like I was lying to you. And I hate that.”
“I mean. You were lying to me. For months.”
Ethan frowns. “But it’s kind of like how you didn’t want to tell us you were gay—”
“Oh, don’t you dare.” I practically spit. “Don’t you fucking dare compare this to coming out. That is not the same thing, and you know it.”
“We know!” Jessie’s eyes brim with tears. “Arthur, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. You’re totally right.”
For a moment, we just stare one another down. Ethan, Jessie, and me.
“I don’t know,” Jessie says finally. “I guess I thought you’d be happy for us.”
“I am!”
“And I know this was a shitty time to drop this bomb, because clearly something just happened with—”
“I don’t want to talk about Ben.”
“That’s fine! Art, that’s fine.”
“And I think you guys should go.”
“Are you—”
“Hanging up now.” It comes out choked.
Then I hug my messenger bag to my chest and cry until my face hurts.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ben
Tuesday, July 31
The only person who should be upset on Harry Potter’s birthday is Lord Voldemort. But here I am, staring at a wall while Sorcerer’s Stone is on, pretty pissed off. While I was failing a quiz this morning, Samantha went over to Dylan’s early “to help set up.” I thought I was going to walk into Dylan’s apartment with Hogwarts banners hanging from the walls. Maybe some bowls with color-coded candy for each house. At the very least, streamers from wall to wall. But Dylan’s place is just as Dylan’s as ever before. The only difference is the freshly made Butterbeer in the fridge, the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans in a cereal bowl, and our T-shirts.
Butterbeer doesn’t take six hours to make.
They probably had sex, napped, and had sex again.
“Controversial opinion incoming,” Dylan says. He takes a sip from the Butterbeer, getting more foam on his beard. Pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose in the hopes Samantha will lick it off, but her self-respect keeps getting in the way. “Michael Gambon is the better Dumbledore.”
“Wrong. So wrong,” Samantha says. “Richard Harris was perfectly cast. Pure Dumbledore. Demeanor, appearance, delivery, everything.”
Dylan raises a skeptical eyebrow. “The court rules that you can only have an opinion on Harry Potter casting if you’ve been a fan longer than a year.”
“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.”
“Yeah, well that’s not—”
“Arthur, we knew you were gay.”
My heart jumps into my throat. “What?”
“I mean, we didn’t know, but we figured. You’re not really subtle . . . about anything.”
“So, wait. You knew I was gay, but you pretended you didn’t—”
“Art, it wasn’t like that,” Jessie says. “We just wanted you to be able to come out when you were ready.”
“And you were just going to act surprised when I told you. That was the plan, huh?”
“No. Not at all—”
“I love that y’all had, like, a whole strategy for this. That’s just great.” I nod. “That must have been very interesting for you guys to talk about behind my back. In between makeouts. Wow. Any more secrets you’d like to fill me in on?”
“Arthur! God. I knew you were going to make this awkward.”
“Oh, I’m the one making it awkward? You guys have been dating! All summer!”
“I know. And we tried—”
“Listen, I’m not weird about you being gay,” Ethan says suddenly. He presses a hand to his forehead. “I’m weird about Jess. Okay? This is new for me, too. I don’t know how to do this. It’s like, I wanted to tell you everything, the way you do about Ben—”
“Wow.” I laugh harshly. “I guess it’s your lucky day, then, because guess who I never want to talk about ever—”
“No. Arthur.” Ethan looks pained. “That’s not what I meant. Okay. This isn’t—look, I know our timing sucks, but now you know, and I guess that’s . . . that. And I’m sorry. But dude, I just need you to know that I don’t have any issues with you. I never have. It’s just that we were trying to find the right way to tell you, and we wanted to do it together, and then it dragged on for so long, it started to feel like I was lying to you. And I hate that.”
“I mean. You were lying to me. For months.”
Ethan frowns. “But it’s kind of like how you didn’t want to tell us you were gay—”
“Oh, don’t you dare.” I practically spit. “Don’t you fucking dare compare this to coming out. That is not the same thing, and you know it.”
“We know!” Jessie’s eyes brim with tears. “Arthur, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. You’re totally right.”
For a moment, we just stare one another down. Ethan, Jessie, and me.
“I don’t know,” Jessie says finally. “I guess I thought you’d be happy for us.”
“I am!”
“And I know this was a shitty time to drop this bomb, because clearly something just happened with—”
“I don’t want to talk about Ben.”
“That’s fine! Art, that’s fine.”
“And I think you guys should go.”
“Are you—”
“Hanging up now.” It comes out choked.
Then I hug my messenger bag to my chest and cry until my face hurts.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ben
Tuesday, July 31
The only person who should be upset on Harry Potter’s birthday is Lord Voldemort. But here I am, staring at a wall while Sorcerer’s Stone is on, pretty pissed off. While I was failing a quiz this morning, Samantha went over to Dylan’s early “to help set up.” I thought I was going to walk into Dylan’s apartment with Hogwarts banners hanging from the walls. Maybe some bowls with color-coded candy for each house. At the very least, streamers from wall to wall. But Dylan’s place is just as Dylan’s as ever before. The only difference is the freshly made Butterbeer in the fridge, the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans in a cereal bowl, and our T-shirts.
Butterbeer doesn’t take six hours to make.
They probably had sex, napped, and had sex again.
“Controversial opinion incoming,” Dylan says. He takes a sip from the Butterbeer, getting more foam on his beard. Pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose in the hopes Samantha will lick it off, but her self-respect keeps getting in the way. “Michael Gambon is the better Dumbledore.”
“Wrong. So wrong,” Samantha says. “Richard Harris was perfectly cast. Pure Dumbledore. Demeanor, appearance, delivery, everything.”
Dylan raises a skeptical eyebrow. “The court rules that you can only have an opinion on Harry Potter casting if you’ve been a fan longer than a year.”
