Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(19)

“Yeah, but—”

“And it’s not an ambush. It’s a surprise!”

I mean, when Dylan was in the hospital, I tore through half of Manhattan to be there. And Ben was pretty fucking fine with that ambush. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when he saw me in the waiting room.

Jessie purses her lips. “Arthur, I—”

“Okay, you know who you sound like?”

“Who?”

“You sound like you before New Year’s! Arthur, you’re doing what? You’re flying where? Can’t you just talk to him when you’re back at school?”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out that time!” Jessie says. “But you can’t pretend it wasn’t risky. Showing up at Mikey’s parents’ house? What if they’d taken a weekend trip somewhere?”

“It was a Tuesday—”

“That’s not the point. Just because last time you got lucky—”

“Lucky?” I scoff. “Give me a little credit, please. That was an A-plus grand gesture!”

“So maybe let’s not make a grand gesture for your ex-boyfriend.”



“Jessie!” I press my forehead. “You want me to have a chaperone? Come with me!”

“I didn’t say you needed a chaperone.” Jessie grips the dressing room curtain, staring me down for what feels like an hour. Then she sighs. “Okay, look. Go to the post office. I’ve got a few more things here to try on, and then I’ll go see what other stores are on this block. Just text me when you’re heading back this way, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can wait for you—”

“Arthur. Go!”

“But—”

“Now. Or you’re going to miss him.”

“Right. Okay.” I nod quickly and exhale.

And with that, I’m off and running. I know the way there by heart.

Everything about this place is just like I remembered: white stone, green trim, and the words UNITED STATES POST OFFICE in raised capital letters. And those glass double doors—I’m half convinced walking through them will transport me right back to that summer. Back to being sixteen, in my ridiculous tie, dumbstruck by this boy and his face and his big cardboard box.

Meeting Ben made the rows of PO boxes look like gold bricks. The fluorescent lights became sunshine. Ben just had this way of making the whole world feel zoomed in. I didn’t even learn his name that day, didn’t get his number, had no clue where to find him. Still, it felt like New York had finally cracked itself open for me.

It’s funny to look back on it now, knowing everything that came next. I feel like a time traveler, popping in from the future.

Of course, my heart’s flat-out decided I’m sixteen again. It’s beating so fast, I can hear it. Now that I’m here, I can barely wrap my head around this. Ben. My legs feel weak and loose, almost spindly. My fingers find the door handle, and suddenly I’m drifting down the ramp toward the lobby.

Toward Ben. For the first time in almost two years.

Everything’s so scrambled and strange. I didn’t know I could still feel like this.

And then I see him leaning against a self-service kiosk, empty-handed and aimless. No boxes, no packing slips, not even a book of stamps. But he looks perfectly at home. I guess he kind of always does. His hair’s grown out a little, and his royal-blue pants are bolder than anything I’ve ever seen him in. But mostly I’m just mesmerized by his profile and the way his hair curls up around his ears. Things I knew but forgot. Funny how time always blurs out the details.

He turns toward me and visibly starts. “Arthur?”

My heart jumps into my throat. “Sorry. I’m—I was just. When you texted, we were—I was right there. Two blocks away. Sorry.” I wave my hands uselessly. “How are you?”

Ben laughs. “I’m good. Holy shit. Arthur.”

And the next thing I know, he’s hugging me and I’m hugging him back, and it’s as familiar as breathing. The way he smells, the way the toes of our sneakers touch, the way I fit beneath his chin. Maybe these last two years were all a dream. Maybe I’ve been here in Ben’s arms this whole time. Maybe I never left.

I feel like bursting into tears. I feel like—

Mikey. I have a Mikey. So I can’t—I can’t feel this. And I don’t. Because there’s no this to feel. And my brain already knows that. Just need my lungs to catch up.

Ben disentangles and studies my face, and I stare back. I can’t help it. “I missed you,” I blurt.

Ben hugs me again. “Me too. Sorry I haven’t been—”

“No, it’s my fault,” I say. “I was kind of wrapped up in stuff. School, you know.”

“And Mikey! How are things going with that?”

Wow, okay. Jumping right in with the boyfriend stuff. But that’s great! Just a couple of old friends discussing our love lives. Maybe this time we can even skip the part where we ghost each other for three months.

Ben looks at me expectantly, and my cheeks go warm. “Yes! Mikey! He’s good.”

I can’t decide if Ben’s freckles have multiplied. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to only seeing the ones that show up in pictures.