Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(74)

I nod without speaking, grinning into my hand.

“So.” He pauses. “Um. I think I might be bi?”

“I KNEW IT!”

Ethan looks startled. “You did?”

“Not like that—sorry, I don’t mean I knew all along. You were just serving up some very strong coming out vibes just now. Ethan!” I shake my head, beaming. “What do you need from me? Can I be your queer mentor? Oh my God. Okay, I’m shutting up. Tell me everything.”

Ethan sets down the snow globe, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Um. Well—”

“Wait!” I fling my arms around him in a full-on tackle hug. “I love you. But you know that. Okay, now I really am shutting up.”

“I love you, too. And, uh, yeah. It’s weird. Like I keep thinking about prom, and how you’d already known for so long and were just figuring out when to say it. But this was like—sudden onset. Like an allergic reaction.”

“You’re allergic to monosexuality!”

He laughs. “Maybe? No, what I mean is—like, you know how you can have a latent allergy that’s just kind of sitting in your system, waiting for the right environmental trigger, and then BLAM.” He smacks his chest lightly. “Am I making any sense?”

“Definitely. Yup. I’m totally following. A bunch of science stuff and then more science stuff, and then you were triggered.”

“Something like that.” He grins. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that this thing, this epiphany or whatever, it feels really new, but it also feels like something that was already there? Like it was hidden in plain sight the whole time, and then two weeks ago, I’m like, oh shit.”

“That, sir, is what we call”—I pause, grabbing a shirt off one of the Pride racks and thrusting it into his arms—“a bi awakening.”

Which is literally what the shirt says, styled like Spring Awakening in a stamped red box.

Ethan laughs. “Oh my God, that’s perfect.”

“So did something happen? Walk me through it!”

His cheeks turn even redder. “Well. Funny you should ask, because. Uh, you get a lot of the credit here.”

“Oh really?” I stand up straighter. “Tell me more.”

“Do you really want me to?”

“Ethan! Yes!”

He nods, clutching the Bi Awakening shirt to his chest. “So. Remember when you called me from Dave & Buster’s because you were freaking out about Ben’s hot new boyfriend, and then afterward you sent me his Instagram profile so I could validate your need to be told you’re hotter than him?”

“That is absolutely not—”

“Anyway. This guy Mario. I started looking through the pictures, and I’m like, yup, that’s a good-looking dude. And then I’m like—wait. That’s a really good-looking dude.”

I stare at him. “Wait. So—”

“I don’t know,” Ethan says quickly. “It was like—something about Mario flipped this switch for me. It was wild. I started remembering all this other stuff I’d kind of brushed off. Like, all the way back to elementary school. Do you remember that kid Axel from Florida?”

I nod vaguely, but the truth is, my brain spun off the road the minute he said Mario’s name. And now Ethan’s running through all these details of recovered past crushes, and I just—I can’t fucking believe— Mario? Ethan’s bi awakening was Mario? This has to be a joke. Sorry, but this takes universe fuckery into a whole new stratosphere.

“So.” I blink. “You had no clue?”

“I mean, there were tons of clues. Like, it’s so obvious in retrospect, but yeah. I had zero conscious awareness, because . . . I don’t know? I like girls. I was ridiculously in love with Jessie. But I guess even when I was dating her, there were all these signs I was missing—and, Arthur, they were like billboards. But Jessie missed them, too? I don’t know. Anyway, she’s been talking me through it lately.”

“Oh.” I nod weakly.

“So, yeah. I feel—just. Thank you so much.” He looks at me, eyes shiny.

“God. Of course. I’m so happy for you. And I’m buying you this.” I snatch the shirt from his hands.

“You mean . . . bi-ing it?”

“Wow, you really are bi, aren’t you?” I hug him again. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks.” He smiles. “And sorry I was being pushy about Pride. I actually didn’t come here with, you know, a bi agenda. I’m just still a little—like, this is a very recent line of inquiry for me. Hasn’t been, uh, put under peer review.”

“Okay!” I clasp my hands. “How about fewer nonsensical science metaphors and more finalizing the outfit for your very first Pride.”

“No, seriously—”

“Nope. It’s been decided. I’m your wingman now. And you know what? You need a hat.” I swipe down two beanies from the Pride display, holding up one in each hand. “Gentleman’s choice! Les Bisexuales or Queer Evan Hansen?”

“Did we really just go from Surly Breakup Arthur to Queer Wordplay Arthur in ten minutes?”

“Get yourself a man who can do both,” I say smugly, shoving the Evan Hansen hat into his hands.