Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(54)

Ben’s still bursting with stories. He points up a side street to tell me about a restaurant that serves latkes, which he pronounces like lot-case. And when we reach Tompkins Square, he tells me how he and Dylan ghosted each other for their very first playdate because their moms walked them to different playgrounds on either end of the park.

“Feels like some kind of metaphor.” Ben shoots me a faltering smile.

“Do you have any idea what’s up? Like, why he’s shutting you out?”

He stares straight ahead. “I mean. I figured he was wrapped up in Samantha, you know? People always ditch their friends when they’re in relationships.”

I startle. “What—”

“But then he canceled plans again,” Ben continues, still not looking at me, “so I asked why, and he was like, ‘Oh, I have a doctor’s appointment.’”

“Wait.” I look up. “You don’t think he’s having issues with . . .” I trail off, not wanting to mention Dylan’s heart condition out loud for some reason. But I point to my chest.

“Yeah. I don’t know.”

“Fuck.”

He blinks. “Maybe I’m pulling this out of nowhere. He’s probably just in Samantha world.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” I pause. “Not that I want him to ditch you. That’s not—”

“I know, Arthur.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Hey,” I say finally. “Can I ask you something?”

He looks at me but doesn’t respond.

I swallow. “Do you feel like I ditched you?”

“I mean.” His brow furrows. “‘Ditched’ is the wrong word. Just, you know. Prioritizing, I guess? But that’s normal.”

I shake my head. “You should never expect to be ditched. If I made you feel like that—”

“You didn’t. I make myself feel like that.”

His voice is so soft when he says it. But the words reverberate in my head like he yelled them into a cave. I make myself feel like that.

Suddenly, all I can think about are those three months we didn’t talk—and the fact that neither of us has mentioned it since. I guess it felt like there was this unspoken agreement where we pretend spring semester never happened. But maybe we should talk about it. Friends should be able to talk about their friendship, right?

“I think I fucked up,” I say finally.

Ben looks at me. “What?”

“With you.” Ben opens his mouth to reply, but I head him off at the pass. “I know it’s been kind of weird between us, maybe? I didn’t know whether it was okay to talk about Mikey stuff with you.”

“You can talk about anything with me.”

“Yeah, but.” I pause, trying to sift through my swirling brain for something halfway coherent. “I just didn’t know how much to say, I guess, and I wasn’t trying to be an asshole—I’m not saying you were still hung up on me,” I rush to add.

“What if I was?”

I freeze. “You mean—”

“Oh.” Ben’s cheeks turn bright red. “Sorry, I just mean, so what if I was? Like, it wouldn’t have been your fault. I wouldn’t want you to stop talking to me.”

“I mean, I kind of got the feeling you did want me to stop talking to you.”

For a minute, Ben doesn’t respond—he just glances up at a park sign and steers us past a fork in the trail. But then he does this sharp little inhale. “I never replied to your birthday message.”

“It’s fine, seriously. I’m sorry—”

“No, this is on me. I meant to reply, but we hadn’t talked in almost two months, and it felt so big, you know? And then I kind of built it up in my head, and the longer I didn’t reply—”

“Ben, it’s fine!”

He shoots me a quick smile and doesn’t speak for a moment.

“Well,” he says finally. “You guys seem really great together.”

I blink, feeling slightly untethered. “You mean—”

“You and Mikey.”

“Same with you and Mario. He seems like an amazing person.” I wince a little. “Sorry, I don’t know if that’s a bummer to talk about.”

Ben laughs. “Why would it be a bummer?”

“Because of California? It sucks that he’s moving.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks flood with heat. Maybe the Mario-moving-to-California topic is off-limits. Ben certainly hasn’t mentioned it—not since he dropped the news in a random Sunday-night text. I’m so curious, though.

He hasn’t said anything about a breakup. But where else could this go? Ben’s made it very clear he’s not a long-distance kind of guy.

“I mean, it’s not a definite thing, but yeah. It sucks,” Ben says finally. He presses his lips together and blinks. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course! Always.”

He draws a quick breath. “Do you ever feel stuck?”



“Stuck? Like—”

“Not—I don’t mean Mario. I don’t know. It’s just life in general. I’m not loving school. Not loving Duane Reade.”