Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(70)

“What do you want me to say? That it’s fine?”

“No—”

“It’s not fine.” He tilts his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Where did this come from? Did I embarrass you tonight?”

“No! God—no, you were amazing! This wasn’t a tonight thing. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it for a month.”

“A month. So, like, around the time you got to New York and started seeing your ex-boyfriend every day?”

“That’s not why—”

“Really?” Mikey turns to face me. “Look me in the eye and tell me this has nothing to do with Ben.”

All my words vanish.

“Got it.” A tear streaks down his cheek.

“Nothing happened,” I say hoarsely. “I swear to God.”

“Nothing, like you didn’t have sex, or—”

“Nothing like nothing! Mikey, I would never cheat, ever.”

He just looks at me. “Did you kiss him?”

“No! Kissing is cheating to me.” He doesn’t respond. “Mikey, you’ve known about every single time we’ve hung out. And that’s all it is. Not sex, not kissing, not holding hands. Just hanging out. And half the time, Mario’s there.”

Mikey presses a hand to his forehead. “If you’re not hooking up with him, what are you even getting from this?”

“What? Nothing! He’s my friend.”

“Your friend who you were in love with! How long did you have to think before you said it back to him?”

I stare at my knees.

“How long did you even date? Three weeks?”

“Three weeks and two days,” I say, without thinking, and Mikey looks like I’ve slapped him. “I was sixteen. He was my first boyfriend. What do you want me to say?”

“I’m so glad, Arthur. So glad you had such a special first love story. Want to hear mine? We shared a bed every night for three months, but he wouldn’t call me his boyfriend. And then he dumped me two hours before the winter concert. That was great for me. I loved that.”

“Mikey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t—”

“Want to know how I spent Christmas? Crying my eyes out. Barely got out of bed. My mom was so freaked out, she skipped church.”

I look up with a start. “But you said you—”

“What was I supposed to say? Hi, I know you just flew up to Boston for me, but let’s talk about how you ruined Christmas—”

“You should have said that!” My eyes spill over. “I deserved it!”

“I was so in love with you, Arthur. Do you even get that? You think this summer was the first time I’ve wanted to say it? The first time I’ve felt it?”

I look at him, stunned. “I didn’t know—”

“And then you show up on my doorstep on New Year’s Eve saying you want to be my boyfriend?” Mikey presses both hands to his chest. “That’s all I wanted. All I wanted was to start over with you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, so quietly it’s almost an exhale. “I was so stupid and confused. I’d just broken up with Ben—”



“It’s always Ben.” Mikey shuts his eyes behind his glasses. “So, what, are you in love with him or something?”

“I—”

“I guess that’s why you came to New York.”

“No! Not at all. We weren’t even talking!” I take a deep breath. “Mikey, nothing’s happening. I swear. He’s following his boyfriend to California. I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again. That’s it. That’s the whole story. There’s no epilogue where we get together.” My voice is choked. “And yeah, I have feelings for him. They’ve probably always been there. I’m not good at this, okay? I thought I was over him, but apparently I’m not, and who the fuck knows if I ever will be. But you shouldn’t have to sit around waiting for that to happen!”

Mikey’s quiet for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Then I guess that’s it,” he says finally.

I nod, the corners of my mouth wet and salty with tears.

He doesn’t speak, but he does this long, shaky exhale that I feel all the way to my bone marrow. The urge to hug him is like gravity. My arms are halfway there before the thought reaches my brain. “Can I—”

Mikey nods, and I throw my arms around him. I don’t think I’ve ever loved him more. Maybe in another universe, it could have been enough.

I don’t remember how long we cried or when we decided to sleep. All I know is this: when I wake up, I’m alone. The blankets on Mikey’s side of the bed are pulled up and neatly folded over.

Early bird, I think, though it’s already past ten. I can hear the faint TV audio leaking in from the living room. Mikey’s probably catching up on Netflix while he finishes up breakfast. Except— The empty spot beside my dresser. His suitcase is gone.

I slide out of bed and cross my room to the door, feeling divorced from my body. A school bell chimes on the television when I step into the living room.

He’s gone. Of course he’s gone. And when Jessie looks up from the couch, I completely unravel.

“Fuck.” She turns the TV off. “Are you okay?”