Felix Ever After(49)

Austin shrugs. “I just assumed you were going out, and then I found out that you weren’t going out, and I decided, you know what? I should just go for it. What do I have to lose, right? Besides my dignity.” He laughs. “So yeah, I went up to him and told him I liked him, and, well . . .” He trails off, face turning a bright red.

Austin’s annoying as fuck, but my chest still gets a little warm. I can tell he really likes Ezra. And after all the bullshit with Declan—well, Ezra could use someone who wants to be with him. It makes me feel a little bad for immediately deciding I don’t like Austin.

The song changes again. There’s a heavy bass that vibrates through the floors. “I’m happy for you,” I shout to him over the music. “For both of you.” And this time, I notice that there’s only a drop of envy when usually I’d be flooded by jealousy. I think that I can be really, truly happy for Ezra and Austin—because for the first time, I might know how good it feels to like someone and know they feel the same way.

“Thanks,” he says. “God, I’m so nervous talking to you. I can tell your opinion really matters to Ezra, so I just really want you to like me. And, I mean, I hope you like me just because I think you’re cool and talented, too.”

I smile a little, despite myself. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’ll put in a good word.”

This earns me a radiant grin. “I should find the others,” he says. “I owe Leah a drink. Coming?”

I shake my head and watch as he heads back to the doors, disappearing into the crowd. I pull my phone out, leaning against the wall.

Do you ever feel like you’re only ever watching? I ask Declan. Never really participating. Never really doing. Just always watching.

But he doesn’t respond. I slide to the ground, looking through his Instagram, curious if he’s busy—maybe he’s hanging out with James and Marc, taking pictures of a bar they’ve managed to sneak into—but he hasn’t updated since yesterday. A shadow passes over me, and when I look up, Ezra is sliding down to sit beside me. He puts his head on my shoulder.

“Why’re you over here by yourself?” he asks.

“I don’t feel like dancing.”

He glances up at me, his head still on my shoulder. “So? What do you think?”

“About Austin?” I shrug. “He seems nice. He really, really likes you.”

Ezra looks away. “You think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

My phone buzzes. Declan’s texted me back. Always watching? Like in that photo you posted?

Yeah. I don’t know, I always feel like I can’t figure out how to just stop watching and actually join.

Ezra groans, eyes closed. “I think I drank too much.”

I glance at him. “You going to be okay?”

Why do you think that is? Declan asks me.

Ez shrugs. “I think so. I always have a desperate need to drink whenever I see my parents.”

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just . . . too scared.

Ezra rests his head back against the wall. “I was thinking more about what you said that night. You’re right, you know? They give me everything. I know I’m lucky. Beyond lucky. I’m privileged as fuck.”

I bite the corner of my lip and look away. I still can’t help but be jealous of Ezra’s parents, his family’s wealth. Does that make me a bad person? A shitty friend?

“You’re right,” Ezra says again. “It’s stupid to complain.”

A part of me—the ugly, jealous side—wants to agree. But . . . “Just because they give you material shit, doesn’t mean they . . . you know . . .”

“Are good parents?”

“I didn’t want to say it that way.”

I understand being scared, Declan tells me. I’m scared all of the time.

“They’re not,” Ezra says. “Good parents, I mean.”

I frown a little. What’re you afraid of?

Everything. I’m scared I’m not living my life to my full potential. I’m scared I’m wasting my life when I’m meant to be doing something else, something more . . .

Ez sighs, putting a hand through his hair as he leans against me. “I always felt like they left me in a castle and then abandoned me. Or like I was a toy Pomeranian that they didn’t actually want to take care of but were happy to take pictures of and show off. Well, that’s what they used to do, anyway, when I was a cute little kid. Now, moody teenager isn’t exactly gala-worthy. Sometimes I don’t think they even want me there, but they’re afraid it’d look bad if I didn’t show up.”

“I think I get what you mean.” The situation isn’t exactly the same, but I know what it feels like to be abandoned by a parent.

“But there comes a point when it’s up to me to just stop complaining and take control, right? So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not sure what I want to do yet, but—you know, you were right. I’m going to try to figure out a plan, a goal, so that I can do what I want with my life and get the hell away from them.”

I feel the surprise light up my eyes. I can’t help but smile. “That’s really great, Ez. That’s—I mean, seriously, that’s really freaking great.”