What If It's Us (Page 58)

“Did you guys take the subway from the airport?” asks Ben.

“We Lyfted,” says Jessie. “You grew up here, right?”

“Yup. In Alphabet City.”

“That sounds like Sesame Street.”

“That’s what he said,” Ben says, nudging me, and then he blushes. “Not like that. Not like that’s what he said. I just mean. Arthur said that. The Sesame Street thing. About Alphabet City.”

“Got it.” Jessie laughs.

The doors slide open, and we step out into the corridor.

“So, how long have you guys been dating?” asks Ben.

Ethan and Jessie glance at each other. “Um. Like two months? A little more?”

It’s funny. They’re not touching. They’re not even standing that close to each other. Which makes me feel weird, like they’re walking on eggshells. Like I scared them out of being affectionate. But maybe they’re just a really hands-off kind of couple.

“Here’s home,” I say brightly, opening the door to 3A.

My phone buzzes: Ben, slyly texting from my doorway. They’re a couple????

Yup. Upside-down smiley.

You okay?

“This place is so nice.” Jessie peers around the living room.

Extrotally. Five more upside-down smileys.

Laughing-crying emoji. Let me know if you guys need some time to talk. I can head home, no worries.

“No!” I say out loud.

Jessie and Ethan look at me expectantly, while Ben bites back a grin.

I blush down at my phone. Don’t go, I need you!!!!!! Do you think your parents would let you stay overnight? Fingers-crossed emoji. Praying-hands emoji.

You got it, I’ll just tell them I’m at Dylan’s sickbed.

Wow, tell D he’s the best wingman ever, A+

Our eyes lock. Ben grins. I grin, too.

“Whoa, is that Catherine the Great?” asks Ethan, blinking up at the walls.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ben

Sunday, August 5

I really wanted some solo time with Arthur, but a double date with his best friends is way better than no date at all. We’re all sitting in his uncle’s living room, splitting his Levain cookie; I give him my piece, even though I’m hungry. I can only imagine what he’s going through right now. It’s like, one minute Arthur, Jessie, and Ethan were just the three amigos and now two amigos are dating and the other amigo is spending way more time alone. At least Hudson and I had each other when Dylan and Harriett started dating. Arthur has to go home and roll around like a third wheel.

“So you guys are good,” Jessie says.

Arthur nods.

“My best friend was in the hospital and Arthur was there for me,” I say. “He’s the only person I wanted to talk to when all that was happening.”

Arthur and Jessie smile.

“That’s sweet. Is your friend okay?”

“He died,” I say with a shrug. “It happens.” Jessie freezes and Ethan’s hand slaps over his mouth. Arthur busts out laughing. “Dylan is alive. A little too alive. Which is a thing.”

“I like this guy,” Ethan says, pointing at me. “I now feel extra bad that we’re cockblocking.”

“Whaaaaaaaat,” Arthur says. “No. You’re not. Okay, maybe a little. But I’m so happy you’re here.”

“You can be happy that we’re here and want to throttle us for cockblocking.”

“I am that.”

Jessie leans forward. “We can go do something. A whole city of stuff to do.”

“Don’t be silly,” I say.

“Yeah . . .” Arthur side-eyes me. “Don’t be silly.”

I ask them more about themselves, giving Arthur some extra time to absorb this whole thing unfolding before him. They share stories of all the different ways they used to spend their summers, like roasting marshmallows and camping out in Jessie’s backyard and Arthur reading Draco and Hermione fanfiction in dramatic voices and watching Ethan battle other kids at the mall in Pokémon matches. Everything was simpler when they were just three kids being best friends.

My phone rings. It’s Dylan.

“I got to take this,” I say. I get up and answer the call in Arthur’s bedroom. “Are you dying again?” I ask, a little nervous.

“No. I’m free and living my best rebirth,” Dylan says. “I am out of that hellhole. I didn’t come back from the dead to pee in a pan.”

“No one was making you pee in a pan, the hospital has bathrooms.”

“Illusions. Where are you and Arthur?”

“At his place. His best friends just surprised us—flew in from Georgia. They’re apparently dating too.”

“Wait. Can Samantha and I come over too? It can be an orgy!”

“Or just a birthday party?”

“We’ll start there.”

I have an idea. “I’ll tell Arthur you and Samantha might crash here too, but you have to do me a favor. Pick up a cake that says . . .”

An hour later, Dylan and Samantha have joined the party. Dylan has hijacked the spotlight as he regales his “tale of a young man who flipped off Death” to Ethan and Arthur and gives them tips on how they can also “escape Death’s clutches.” Ethan wants to know why Dylan’s parents are already letting him party, and Arthur is just nodding along while eating pizza. Samantha is already over Dylan’s second shot at life, so she’s talking with Jessie about her dreams of all the apps she wants to create.

I drag Dylan into the kitchen to make sure the birthday cake is good to go.

“Thanks so much, man.” I shut the box and put it back in the fridge. “So. How are you really feeling? Dylan-ness aside.”

“I’m good. Panic attacks are a bitch. But I’m glad we went. Better safe than sorry.”

“Did something happen? Or was your heart just racing faster like last time and you got nervous?”

“Something happened,” Dylan says. “We were in Central Park watching two cyclists making out. I was making jokes about what their dirty talk in bed must be like. Pumping tires. If there are any chains in need of good lubing. Reminders not to forget helmets before they went for another ride. I wanted to keep going because she was laughing so hard, and I said I love you.”

“Dylan. Dude. You agreed to take it slow.”

“That’s what the cyclist said,” Dylan says. I glare. “I know. Look, it slipped. And I tried taking it back and I was making an even bigger ass of myself. I was freaking out about losing her for real this time and blood was rushing to my head and my heart was racing. Then Samantha freaked out because I was freaking out and that only made things worse and I was sure I was a goner.”

Dylan panicking is my least favorite Dylan.

“Well, you’re both obviously okay, Samantha’s future husband.”

“Surprised me too,” Dylan says. “Just like when she dropped that L-bomb after you left. I had to Han Solo her at first, but then I got real, which was very, very hard.”

“I bet it was.” I hug him. “I’m really happy for you. I can’t wait to be the best man at your ridiculous coffee shop wedding.”

“I hope there’s a ridiculous coffee shop wedding to be had. I know I jump ahead. And I know I’m a superior immortal being, but I’m not psychic, so I just got to keep it moving like it’s going to go somewhere good.”