I walk out of KidFUN with a frown on my face. I came here thinking Beck’s been avoiding me because of what happened. I cooked up this scheme to show her everything could be just like it’s always been. She’s still my best friend, and I love her, and I won’t let anything screw that up.

Not even me.

But it turns out she’s been ignoring me because she’s dating some other guy right now, and … if I’m honest, I don’t know how I feel about that. It feels a little quick to me, so soon after … well, after that night in Boston.

I only opened the stupid Tinder app in the first place because I could see—could literally see—my fingers typing out a message to Beck, asking her to come over, telling her I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way her skin tastes. I mean, it was either distract myself with Tinder or go crazy or do something really stupid.

But I already did something stupid, and it’s haunting me. I dream about her. I daydream about her. Over and over, night and day, I step across the space between us and kiss her in that hotel room. Over and over, I slip inside her and feel her legs tremble as they wrap around me. It’s making me crazy.

Worst of all, sometimes when I think about that last morning, I imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t told her we made a big mistake. I imagine that, instead of telling her nothing will change, I take her in my arms and tell her everything has changed. And in those daydreams, I climb into bed with her and make love to her again, because I know in my heart that Beck and I should be together.

That can’t be. Beck’s not my girlfriend. She’s not mine like that. No matter how much I thought she was when I was too drunk to think straight. No matter how much I sometimes want her to be, even now.

Beck’s my family. She needs to be cared for and cherished. She needs to be protected. That’s what I’ve known my entire life, and I can’t do those things if we do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing and then break up.

I almost ignored Tasha, but she was cute in a non-threatening way, and has good taste in music. So I swiped right, and she’d done the same for me. We texted hellos, and she seemed nice. But what do you talk about on Tinder? Seems to me you’re supposed to move on to the dating part, and anyway, I felt mopey and didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

I get in and start the car, turning the AC up to high and waiting a moment for it to actually get cold.

Honestly, I don’t know about this online dating thing. I know plenty of people who hook up that way, but it doesn’t seem like the thing for me. I mean, I don’t even know this girl, and the minute we both swiped, the pressure was on. So I came up with the idea of asking Tasha to double date with Beck and … well, I hadn’t really gotten far enough to actually think about who she’d go with, but … you know. Someone.

Apparently, Beck already has someone.

Didn’t take her long, I think—but I don’t have any right to think that.

I scowl and dial Levi as I drive back to Portland, routing the call through the car’s sound system so I don’t get arrested.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” he says, his voice pitched low. He’s taking two classes this summer, hoping to get through school a little faster, and spends most of his days at the library.

“I just talked to Beck.”

“Finally! What did she say?”

“She’s already dating some guy,” I say, spitting out the words like they taste foul. Which, come to think of it, they kind of do.

“Wait, what?” I hear a squeak, and then the faint sound of traffic. He must have taken the phone outside. “Bri hasn’t mentioned any guy.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the ladies don’t tell us everything,” I say. “She said she’s been dating some guy recently. Whatever that means.”

“Seems to me she was banging you in a hotel room recently, man.”

“That’s not relevant,” I snap.

“Then what are you so pissed about?” he asks.

It’s quite a reasonable question, isn’t it? So why does it piss me off so bad?

“I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my friends.” I pass a slow-moving Camry.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then: “Is that really all it is? Because I’ll tell you what, man, you sound jealous.”

I blow out a breath. “Don’t start. I’m not jealous. I just … I look out for her.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “Everyone knows. It’s practically a pathology. Have you ever considered what might happen if you didn’t think about her like she was a broken doll you have to keep in bubble wrap?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” I demand. I thought calling Levi to bitch would make me feel better, but so much for that. “You do it, too. We all keep Beck in bubble wrap. That’s, like, literally our whole thing.”

“Yeah, that’s always been our thing. But we’re not kids anymore, and she’s not sick anymore. Maybe you need to let Beck grow up a little.”

“And to think,” I mutter, “I was gonna ask you to help with the double date.”

“Say what?”

“I asked her to go on a double date with me and Tasha, and I was going to—”

“Who’s Tasha?”

“I matched with her on Tinder.” I pass another car. Why is everyone just ambling along like they don’t have anything to do or anywhere to be? “I’m taking her out on a date—double date—with Beck and, apparently, Beck’s new guy.”

I hate saying Beck’s new guy. I fucking hate it.

“Are you sure it’s July?” Levi asks. “Cuz it feels a lot like April Fools’ Day.”

“What?”

“You’re taking Beck on a double date.”

“Beck and I have doubled before.”

“Yeah, you’ve doubled before. Before that time you slept together. My dude, what is your major malfunction?”

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me. Now I’m telling you, you’re the biggest fucking idiot I’ve ever met. If I wasn’t your best friend, I’d beat you for being dumber than dirt.”

“What are you talking about? She hasn’t talked to me for weeks. She obviously doesn’t know how to get things back to normal. I’m trying to make this easier for her.”

“Garrett, you’re one of the smartest guys I know. I mean, seriously. You’re, like, wicked smart. But this….”

“Dude. I’m not an idiot. Spit it out—tell me what I’m missing here.”

“No. You’re such a dumb ass, frankly, you deserve whatever you get. Where are you going on this fabled double date?”

“I don’t know. I’ll text Tasha tonight, and we’ll decide.”

“Who is Beck bringing?”

“I don’t know. Just some guy she said she’s been seeing.”

“Okay.”

There’s a long silence, then I say it even though I fear I’m going to regret it: “Don’t you think it’s kind of soon?”

“What’s kind of soon?”

“Her seeing some new guy.”

“She’s been single since the end of school. If she wants to date—”

“No, I mean….” I decide not to push it. “Never mind.”

“Oh my God. You don’t get to have it both ways, man. Either you’re just friends and she’s got a right to do whatever—and whomever—she wants, or you’re not, and you just swiped right on some other girl even though you want Beck. Which is it?”

I know he’s right, but I hate that too. “I was hoping for a sympathetic ear,” I say. “What kind of best friend are you?”

“One who can’t stand to watch you train wreck your stupid ass.”

“I’m trying to get us back on the footing we were on before we took things down the—” I falter. “The road we went on.”

“And this is what you came up with? This was your brilliant plan?”

“You’re kind of a dick.”

“Yeah, well, look at my fine example.” His voice is dripping with derision. “Garrett Crawford, king of the dipshits.”

“Look—”

“Just do me one favor,” he says. “While you’re on this absolute dumpster-fire of a date, I want you to do one thing for me.”

“What’s that?” I stop at a stoplight and tap my fingers against the steering wheel, wishing I’d opted for loud music instead of this ridiculous conversation.

“I want you to pay careful attention, and make a mental note when it goes completely and utterly to hell.”

“And why would I do that?”

“So I can say I told you so, of course.”

Then he hangs up.

Fucker.