Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(82)

“And they’re getting married.” I scoot in beside her on the love seat, tugging a shaggy brown throw blanket over our tucked-up legs and feet. My new favorite weekend morning routine: the Two-Headed Grizzly.

Jessie’s hands are wrapped around a coffee mug. “Yup. Married. In less than a week.”

“But they’re our age! How did this happen?”

“Well, when two people love each other very, very much—”

I give her a swift kick under the blanket. “I just mean how are we just now finding out about this?”

“They weren’t even planning on telling anyone this soon. It was a whole thing. Like, we were at Samantha’s parents’ house”—Jessie pauses, sipping her coffee—“it’s me, her sister, and a few other people, and Samantha’s set up this whole video-game tournament. So we’re about three hours into it, and Samantha’s phone starts ringing—and at first she ignores it, because she’s in the middle of pulverizing her cousin Alyssa, but then it rings again, right? So she steps away to investigate, and it’s Dylan, and she’s kind of sitting there on the futon talking to him, really quietly, and there’s this moment where her face goes like this.” Jessie rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, letting her mouth hang open. “So she ends the call, and for a minute, she’s just staring into space—and obviously we’re all a little worried. But then she laughs and says, ‘I guess I have something to tell you.’”

My hand flies to my mouth. “Dylan proposed over the phone?”

Jessie just looks at me. “Arthur.”

“You mean the pregnancy? How would he know before she did?”

“Is that a serious question?” I nod, and she slowly closes her eyes. “Your cluelessness is truly groundbreaking. You know that, right?”

“That sounds like a compliment, but I’m not sure it is one.”

“It’s not one.” Jessie laughs. “Holy shit, I love you so much. Yeah, so Samantha, the person carrying the baby in her body, was aware of the pregnancy—”

“Some people don’t know! There was a whole show about—”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

I nod quickly and pantomime zipping my lips.

“Okay, so it turns out, Samantha’s, like, four months pregnant, but they’d only told immediate family, because—long story, but basically the plan was to announce the pregnancy at their wedding, which was also a surprise—they’ve been telling people it’s a barbecue.”

I blink, thinking about Dylan’s sudden interest in owning a fancy Bloomingdale’s suit. “Let me guess—Samantha’s cousin isn’t getting married.”

“Alyssa’s twelve,” Jessie says.

I press my hand to my cheek. “So why’d they decide to announce everything this weekend?”

“I don’t think they meant to. Sounds like Dylan had a panic attack, maybe, and it just slipped out? He didn’t, like, tweet it or anything, but he told Ben and Patrick and . . .”

Mario, I think—but I shake the thought away. “Is Dylan okay?”

“Yeah, totally, he just felt bad. But I think they’re excited to finally be able to talk about it.”

“Wow.” I burrow farther under the blanket.

“I know.”

“What are they going to do about school?”

“Not sure,” Jessie says. “I don’t think they’ve a hundred percent decided. Baby’s due in December, so they’re going to try to have a normal semester, I guess. But after that, no idea.”

“I guess I should text her, huh? And Dylan.”

But when I open my texts, the name I look for is Ben’s.

Just heard the news!! omfg, I type. You were NOT WRONG about something being up with Dylan!!!!!!

Ben writes back immediately. I KNOW. It doesn’t even feel real yet. So I’m Uncle Ben now?? Like the rice???

A moment later, he adds: I just have no idea how to do this. I’m at a baby store literally right now and it’s aggressively cute but so overwhelming, like how do I know what this baby wants?? It’s not even born?

I grin down at my phone. Haha no clue. I guess I should get something for them too at some point, huh

WAIT, Ben writes. Are you home rn? I’m on the upper west side, Columbus and 80th, it’s like right across from the museum. Come meet me?

Baby shopping with Ben.

On a Sunday afternoon.

Like a pair of newlywed dads. What if—

Nope. Absolutely not. Butterflies, get the fuck out of my stomach. You know what I’m not going to do this time? Get my hopes up for some kind of capital-M Moment, when I know perfectly well Ben’s probably standing right next to capital-M Mario at this very second.

Twenty minutes later, I spot Ben reading his phone outside a bank of expensive-looking boutiques. But he shoves it in his pocket and hugs me as soon as he sees me.

“Just in time,” he says. “They were starting to side-eye me pretty hard in there. I think they think I’m a baby-store criminal?”

I laugh, feeling slightly dizzy already. “I hear that’s a real problem in this town.”

“Baby-store crimes?”

“They thought it would all be over once they caught the onesie bandit, but—”