Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(31)

Now Mario’s winding into some anecdote about their writing class and Ben’s manuscript and something Ben said once during peer critiques, and I swear, every other word out of his mouth is Ben’s name. And he keeps touching Ben’s arm. Which is fine, I guess, though I’m not sure why he thinks distracting Ben midgame is going to end well. This is a boy who, as legend has it, once turned down a blow job in favor of beating Dylan’s high score on Candy Crush.

A blow job from Hudson, for the record. Ben’s never turned down a blow job from me. Not that he ever had much of a chance to.

But none of this is relevant. Blow jobs definitely aren’t relevant. That’s not even a concept that applies to us now, because Ben has a boyfriend, and I have a boyfriend, and everyone’s settled. And happy. I’m happy! I’m just a little off my game today, but so what? It’s not like Mario’s stopped talking long enough to notice.

“So I’m like, you know what? I’m gonna go home after this and knock the rest of it out tonight. However long it takes. I’ll just sleep it off on the plane tomorrow.”

I smile vaguely, like I have any clue what’s getting knocked out here. “Definitely.”

“I feel good, you know. Like I know where I’m going with it, so now it’s just diving in to get the words down.” He yawns and stretches. “Oh man, sorry. I was up so late—”

Having sex with Ben, I think.

“—pinning down the beats for the climax,” he says. And it takes me a full fucking minute to realize he’s talking about a screenplay, not a sex act. Is Mario’s face interfering with my brain waves? Is this just what happens when you meet your ex-boyfriend’s new boyfriend?

I sneak a quick glance at Ben and Dylan, and they’re both leaning in so close to the console, I can’t tell if the goal is to crush the aliens or make out with them. No chance of this mission ending anytime soon.

I just need to step away for a minute. My brain needs a factory reset.

“I have to phone call.” I shake my head, wincing. “I have a phone call. To make.”

“Ah. Checking in with the boyfriend,” Mario says knowingly.

I nod, a little too quickly. That’s right. Checking in with my very perceptive boyfriend who’s going to last, what, ten seconds before asking me if I’m okay? At which point I’ll trip all over myself explaining how I’m totally okay, not even remotely upset, because why would I be upset, and if I seem moody, I’m just tired. LOOK, I’M YAWNING! NORMAL YAWN.

Yup, that’ll reassure him.

Five minutes and one Very Casual Mikey Text later, I’m spiraling at Ethan from inside a race car. Guess who’s hanging out with Ben’s new boyfriend

Two seconds later, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. Ethan doesn’t even wait for me to say hello. “You’re seeing Ben?”

“I’m not seeing Ben! I’m with a group of people at Dave & Buster’s —”

“A group of people, including Ben.”

“And Ben’s boyfriend,” I remind him. Ben’s boyfriend Ben’s boyfriend Ben’s boyfriend. I blink down at the steering wheel, feeling dazed and off-center. It’s like I’m standing outside my own brain.

“I didn’t know Ben had a boyfriend,” says Ethan.

“Not just a boyfriend. An extremely hot boyfriend. Definitely hotter than me.”

“Whoa. Good for Ben.”

I almost drop my phone. Good for Ben? Does Ethan even remember our breakup? I cried the whole way back from New York. Couldn’t sleep. I was a zombie for weeks. I went through so many pints of ice cream, Dad started calling me the Dairy King. Even remembering fall of senior year makes my stomach lurch.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

Ethan laughs. “Why? You have a boyfriend. Why shouldn’t he?”

I scoff so loudly, a kid with a pubestache turns to stare at me through the driver’s side door. I wave him off and turn back to Ethan. “Did you miss the part about him being hotter than me?”

“No?”

“You’re supposed to say I’m hotter!”

“But I’ve never met him,” says Ethan. “How would I know?”

I smack my forehead. “Because Mario’s not your friend and I am!”

“His name’s Mario? Yikes, that does sound hot.”

“Oh, believe me, I fucking know. This is my second time experiencing his hotness in person,” I say. And then I’m instantly paranoid that Mario’s somehow overhearing all of this. Or Ben. God, I don’t know which would be worse. But when I glance up, it’s just Pubestache staring me down and, inexplicably, flicking his tongue into the V of a backward peace sign. Not exactly the hand gesture I’d use to describe my sex life, but okay.

I grace Pubestache with a classic hand gesture of my own.

“I’m still stuck on the fact that you’re hanging out with Ben’s boyfriend,” Ethan says.

“Not on purpose! It’s the universe’s fault.”

When I look up again, Pubestache has evidently decided to share his gifts elsewhere, leaving my view unobstructed. And suddenly, all I can see is the dual-rider motorcycle game. The one I played with Ben once on our first first date.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I can’t believe Ben’s having a do-over date of our first date. Right now. With his new super-hot boyfriend—”