Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(89)

“How do you feel?” Ma asks.

“Like I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m not asking what you plan to do—I’m asking how you feel.”

“There are no wrong answers,” Pa says.

“There aren’t any easy ones either,” I say. “For so long I wanted Arthur to say everything that he said, and I kicked myself for not saying it whenever I had the chance. But it never seemed like we were going to make sense and it still wouldn’t make sense now. Or could it? I’m clearly willing to move. But then I’m screwing over Mario, who hasn’t done anything wrong. This would be simpler if one of them pulled a Hudson and cheated on me. But they didn’t. And they’re both amazing.”

Someone is going to get hurt.

“Again, Benito, you’re not answering the question. How do you feel?”

I don’t know why Ma is so obsessed with getting this answer out of me.

“I’m scared I’ll regret not taking this chance to make things right with Arthur. And I’m terrified that if it doesn’t work out, then I’ll have lost the only other person who wants to be with me.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Pa says. “There’s still Dylan.”

“Very true,” Ma says. “There are no vows powerful enough to keep him away from you.”

I give my parents the tiniest of smiles for trying to cheer me up.

Ma grabs my hand. “You have two wonderful young men who would be lucky to be with you and there’s more in the world who would be privileged to have a shot with you. It’s up to you right now to figure out what risk will make your heart happiest. You shouldn’t rush into deciding.”

“Though you don’t have forever to choose either,” Pa says. “There’s a moving truck to pack soon. And once I help you load your stuff, my job is done.”

“No pressure.”

“There’s some pressure,” Pa says, surprising me. Most parents would lie. “This is part of growing up. You’re not always going to be able to please and protect everyone you love. The best thing you can do when life is hard is try your best.” He kisses my head and gets up. “I believe in you.”

“Me too,” Ma says, taking Pa’s hand as he helps her up, too.

“Wait. Any chance you guys want to tell me which team you’re on? Arthur or Mario?”

“We’re always on your team,” Ma says, closing my bedroom door behind them.

“Not helpful!” I shout.

It’s very sweet, but I want someone to make this easier for me.

I grab my phone and call Dylan. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around everything before bringing it up to him because he’s going to ask a bunch of questions. Hopefully he can help me answer them, too.

He sends my call straight to voice mail and follows up with a text. At the courthouse.

Why? I text.

Suing Samantha for telling Patrick the news before I got to tell you.

Translation?

Paperwork. Marriage is boring!

Haha. Well, have fun with that. Call me later.

Bet your sweet ass I will.

I’m patting myself on the back for more character growth. Instead of getting worked up over Dylan living his life, I’m respecting it. He’s not ghosting or being weird. His priorities have shifted, and that’s part of growing up. My best friend can’t be around twenty-four/seven anymore. But I trust that when we do catch up, he’ll be unhelpful and flirty for an hour and then come through with something wise before bringing up my sweet ass again.

It’s too weird to bring up Arthur’s confession to Mario. I will, but not yet.

I’m scrolling through my phone contacts, hoping someone can help me wrap my head around all this. Everything is changing, and I don’t want to have any regrets.

I stop at someone’s name.

This feels crazy, but.

I’m going to ask my first ex-boyfriend for love advice.





Chapter Thirty-Six


Arthur

Thursday, July 9




It’s been thirty-nine hours since my shitshow of a love confession, and not a word from Ben. Which is entirely fine and not at all panic-inducing, other than the fact that I’ve been checking my phone every ten seconds for two days straight, because evidently my brain thinks Ben might slide in with an I love you too text at nine-thirty a.m. on a Thursday.



“You know what?” Jacob surveys the stage, fist tucked thoughtfully under his chin. “Can we get more of a build here on Addie for the monologue?”

The light brightens slowly on Amelia’s face.

“Okay, nice.” He pauses. “Hey, can I get some quick photos from the back of the house? I want to see how this reads.”

“On it.” Taj pats my shoulder, and both of us stand, yet again—let’s just say Jacob has no qualms about last-minute lighting cue changes. I snap a few pictures and almost forget to text them to Jacob, because I’m too busy checking my phone settings again. Just to make sure I’m not accidentally on Do Not Disturb.

I would very much like to be disturbed by Ben Alejo.

It’s really the silence that’s unbearable—even a straight-up rejection would be better. I just wish he’d say something. Though maybe the silence is the something, because what else could it mean other than Ben not loving me back? It’s not a job application. He’s not out there calling my references and weighing out my pros and cons. Loving someone isn’t an informed decision. It just is. You just do.