Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(15)

“Well, if you ever need an escape from the drama, I’m here.”

Mikey just looks at me.

“Okay, fair enough. But if you want different drama . . .”

The front door of the apartment thuds shut.

I glance up. “Jessie’s back!”

A moment later, she’s in my doorway, holding a giant double-chocolate cookie in one hand and a white paper bakery bag in the other. “Arthur, you will not believe who I just saw at Levain Bakery.” She scoots in beside me, eyes landing on the screen of my phone. “Oh! Hi, Mikey.”

“How’s it going?” He shoots her a stilted half wave.

“Good, good.”

I smile back and forth between them. God, I love awkward people. I think I collect them.

Jessie hands me the bag, and I inhale happily. “This smells. So good.”

She pats my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

“So who’d you run into?”

“Right.” She nods quickly. “Namrata.”

“At Levain? No way! I thought she was living downtown these days.”

“Who’s Namrata?” asks Mikey.

“She was one of the summer associates at the law firm when I worked there. But she’s a real associate now. Wow, Jess, what are the odds of you running into her the day before you start work?” I shake my head, smiling. “Way to go, Universe!”

“Anyway, I’m gonna go eat this.” Jessie jumps up. “Cookie lunch?”

“Cookie lunch.” I turn back to Mikey. “I should probably go, too.”

“Warm cookie. I get it,” he says.

I smile. “Keep me posted on your parents and Robert?”

“Deal.” Mikey pauses. “I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Mikey Mouse.”

I hang up and head out to the living room, where Jessie’s settled in at the dining table with her cookie and two glasses of milk.

“I fucking love you, Jessie Franklin,” I say.

She smiles up at me. “You didn’t tell me I’d need a spoon for this cookie.”

“A spoon? Toughen up.” I plop into the chair beside her and bite into my cookie like a hamburger. It’s so warm and gooey and rich. So New York. And here I’ve been living off Usdan Marketplace dining hall cookies for a year. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“Had a feeling.”

“I can’t believe you saw Namrata. How’s she doing?”

“No clue.” Jessie shrugs. “I didn’t see her.”

“Wait—”

“I saw Ben,” she says plainly.

The whole world grinds to a halt.

“Ben . . . like Ben? Alejo?”

Jessie takes a bite of cookie and nods.



“But you said—”

“Yup.”

“So why didn’t you . . . ?” But Jessie looks pointedly at my phone, and my cheeks flood with heat. “Oh.”

Jessie pauses. “So how’s Mikey?”

“Great! I mean, he’s fine.” My head feels foggy. “Why was Ben at Levain Bakery?”

“Getting cookies?” Jessie says. “So weird, right? He was with Dylan. It honestly took me a second to place them. Did you know Dylan has a man bun?”

“Did Ben look different?” I squint, trying to remember the last time I saw a selfie of him. He usually posts pictures of buildings and graffiti and boring stuff, like pigeons. I guess he still hasn’t figured out that his face is the best view in New York.

Nope, nope, nope. Delete that thought.

“Nah, he looked the same. I think I just wasn’t expecting to see them. Dylan says he misses your raw sexual energy.”

“I miss him, too!”

I don’t think I’ve talked to Dylan in a year, maybe more. But I knew about the man bun because I still follow him online—he and Samantha are definitely my favorite Instagram couple. Last week, Dylan posted about a fort they made in Samantha’s dorm room—basically just a blanket spread across two stacked piles of cardboard packing boxes. But they’d pushed Samantha’s bed underneath so they could spend their last night of school under a canopy, and if that isn’t peak romance, I don’t know what is. Of course, I spent the whole week thinking about how I’d replicate it with Mikey on our last night—I even bought glow-in-the-dark stars from the toy store on Main Street so we could pretend we were sleeping outdoors.

But in the end, I never even mentioned it to Mikey, even though I’m sure he would have humored me and gone along with it. I guess I just kept picturing him looking at me with a wait-why-are-we-doing-this face. Or asking if it was really worth the extra cleanup we’d have to do in the morning. Talk about the ultimate self-answering question. If your boyfriend asks whether your romantic gesture is worth doing, it’s not worth doing.

I don’t know, maybe Mikey would have been super into the whole fort idea. He’s not the type for spontaneous romantic inspiration, but he’s pretty persuadable, especially when there’s no PDA involved. And he likes to make me happy. He does make me happy. And so what if dating Mikey isn’t exactly one big surprise party. Love doesn’t have to be like that. It doesn’t have to be showy or maudlin or larger than life. Love can be a pile of folded laundry and a full tank of gas, or your steady, sweet boyfriend spending an extra night at school to help you pack up your dorm room. Anyway, not every single relationship is going to be— “Ben Alejo,” says Jessie, and I almost knock over my milk. “On day one. How random is that?”