What If It's Us(74)

“Arthur, you’re depressing me,” says Namrata.

“I . . . didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s freaking me out.”

I shrug and turn back to the Bray-Eliopulos files, which are as numbingly boring as ever. Maybe I’m feeling masochistic. Or maybe I’ve unlocked the secret, and this is how people focus. All you have to do is have a cute boy rip your heart out, then let your best friends stomp all over it, and if it’s still beating even a little bit, finish the job yourself. Say the worst things and yell your voice raw and destroy everything you love until, lo and behold, the monotony of work is a relief. Because if you’re balls-deep in Bray-Eliopulos, at least you can’t think about your ex-boyfriend. Your un-soul-mate. The guy who bailed in the middle of Act Two.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Juliet turns to Namrata.

I look up. “What’s tomorrow?”

“David’s roommates are having a goodbye party,” says Namrata.

“The dinosaurotica guys? Jurassion Passion?”

“Yeah, and I can’t fucking wait. I’m shedding no tears over that departure.” Namrata leans back in her chair. “Jules, we’re heading up there together, right?”

“Up where?” I ask.

“Upper West Side. David goes to Columbia.”

“Oh, that’s near me.” Neither of them speak. “So. Party, huh?”

Juliet nods. “It’s pretty small, though, right?”

“Yeah, just in their apartment,” Namrata says.

“Sounds fun,” I say slowly, and then I press my lips together, because it’s not like I’m about to sit here begging for an invite to a random party on my own birthday. God. Even I’m not that uncool.

Wait, I AM that uncool.

“Maybe I could stop by?” I ask casually.

Juliet and Namrata glance at each other.

“Or . . . not.”

“Arthur, look, it’s not personal,” Juliet says. “There’s going to be booze there.”

“I’m comfortable with that.”

“Well I’m not.”

“You’re not comfortable with booze?”

“I’m not comfortable with rolling into a boozy party with my boss’s underage son.”

“Ha.” I grin. “I hear you. I wouldn’t actually drink. But my parents have a liquor cabinet, so I could make something! Like a candy corn martini—”

“No, like, Namrata and I could legit get fired for that.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Namrata says.

“Even on my birthday?”

And there it is. My Hail Mary.

Namrata softens. “It’s your birthday?”

“Tomorrow is.”

“Oh, Arthur.” Juliet bites her lip. “We can’t bring you to this, though. You get that, right?”

“Yeah, I . . . never mind.”

“But seriously, you don’t want to hang out with the dinosaur guys anyway. You should do something fun with Ben.”

And wow. Now I’m about to start crying at the conference table. I just stare at my hands, blinking. Fantastic.

“Okay, that’s not the reaction I was expecting,” Juliet says carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Juliet and Namrata exchange glances again.

But I don’t care. Let them feel bad. I have no shits left to give. Dad’s in Atlanta, Mom’s halfway to Canandaigua, Ethan and Jessie are probably making out behind Starbucks, and my only two friends in this whole stupid city are spending my birthday at a party in my neighborhood without me.

My seventeenth birthday. Maybe on some planets, that’s the kind of thing people look forward to. But all I can think about is Hudson and Ben passing love notes in class. Ben’s Instagram, with its fifty-six versions of Hudson’s face. Hudson’s name on a shipping label for a box that was never sent.

I think about the giant gaping hole in my heart, exactly the size of Ben’s fist.





Chapter Thirty-Two


Ben


Saturday, August 4

I’m at this low-key coffee shop with Hudson since our exam is on Tuesday and I really need a solid study session to handle my weak spots. A couple times I thought I saw Dylan waltzing in, but it wasn’t him. That’s for the best. I’m not sure Harriett running off an hour ago to celebrate a friend’s birthday and leaving me alone with Hudson was for the best, though. I mean. We were fine that night after my showdown with Dylan. But it’s just us again for the first time.

We’re sitting side by side on stools. We’ve been quizzing each other, but the only answers I care about are all Arthur-related: How is he celebrating his birthday? Who’s making him feel like a king? Namrata and Juliet? Will texting him a happy birthday ruin his day? Does he hate me?

“Earth to Ben,” Hudson says, waving.

“Sorry.”

“Arthur?”

“Yup. Hard to focus.” Hudson and Harriett don’t know it’s Arthur’s birthday. I just jumped into study group so I wouldn’t stay home and play Sims. Last night my Sim counterpart gave flowers to Sim Arthur and got rejected because fuck my lives, real and digital. It’s become really obvious that no one can hurt you if they can’t talk to you, so I just locked Sim Ben in a room with no doors or windows. He’ll run out of oxygen eventually, but at least no one is breaking his heart. “Today is Arthur’s birthday.”