I can’t believe how empty life feels without Beck. How cold.

Even in that moment on the boat, when I realized I’m in love with her, I didn’t know how much I need her in my life. Every day. In all kinds of ways.

I wake up every morning, and is there a message from Beck with a funny political meme, or an article about an interesting court case she thought I’d want to read? No, there isn’t. Does she call me just because she wants to chat? No.

To say nothing of the fact that she doesn’t answer my calls, or that her parents pretty much told me to fuck directly off the one time I tried to go over there and see her. That was maybe worse than the lecture from my dad, because even though he was disappointed, my dad is always going to be my dad, and he has to like me. It’s in the parenting handbook or something.

But the Lowells aren’t my parents, even if they’ve seemed like a second set of parents over the years. They don’t have to like me at all, and judging from the look on Mr. Lowell’s face when he told me I was no longer welcome in their home, they don’t.

That hurt a lot. I didn’t just lose Beck with my stupidity; I lost this whole other family that I had taken for granted.

My mom hasn’t said anything about the situation, although I know Dad must have filled her in. Dad asked me a few days ago if I’d spoken to Beck, and I told him she didn’t want to talk to me and I was respecting that. He looked sad but just nodded. And that was that. No help from that quarter. I thought about asking him to intervene with the Lowells, but what would be the point? The last thing Mr. Lowell said to me was, “If and when Beck wants to talk to you, she’ll let you know. Until then, you need to stay away.” That’s pretty clear.

Basically, I’m a mess. And the terrible irony is, if Beck would just talk to me, I could tell her how I feel. I could see if maybe—just maybe—she feels the same way. Because I honestly think she must. Why else would she have seemed so taken aback at the double date invitation? Why else would she have been so mad at me on the boat? I didn’t understand those things at the time, but I’m real perceptive now that I’ve lost everything. Great timing, Garrett.

So it’s been fourteen long, horrible days since the disastrous double date, and aside from time at work, I’ve spent most of those days sitting in my room feeling sorry for myself. In fact, I’m gearing up for another long day of self-recrimination when my phone dings with a message.

I know full well it’s not Beck—at this point I’m fairly sure it’s never going to be Beck — but I rush to check anyway. It’s Levi.

B-ball tonight. Come over?

I don’t even know who’s playing, nor do I really care.

I don’t know. Not really feeling it.

The phone rings; the caller ID is Levi. He knows everything that happened, and he’s been trying to tempt me out of the house for the last few days, but I’ve been far too busy feeling sorry for myself. This is sure to be more of the same.

I sigh, but I answer. “Hey.”

“Dude,” he says without preamble. “Are you gonna just sit there in your room until you literally rot? Get your ass over here and watch some roundball.”

“I’m not rotting.”

“Not yet, but you will be. Seriously, come over. I’ll pick up the delivery tab.”

“I’m not even hungry,” I tell him.

“Are you eating, man?”

“Are you my mom?”

“Well, sooo-rry,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to mother you, just make sure you don’t starve to fucking death. Come over. I’ll get that stupid buffalo chicken pizza you like.”

To my surprise, that actually sounds good. Nothing has in days, so it’s worth thinking about. “I could maybe eat,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “You can also maybe pick up some beer on the way over, because they won’t deliver it. Get a couple six-packs of decent microbrew.”

“Probably more expensive than the pizza,” I say.

“I know,” he says. “Why do you think I offered to pay for the pizza?”

Then he hangs up.

***

At first, I’m not so sure I made the right choice, leaving the house. We sit in Levi’s big leather La-Z-Boys and watch the game for a bit, not saying anything beyond some commentary on the plays, and I can’t tell if I’m glad to be here.

But by the third beer, I’m glad I’m here. I miss Beck like crazy, but I’ve missed hanging with Levi, too. Levi’s right; I can’t just sit in my room and rot. I’ve got to get out here and start living. But how? What do I do?

I take a big swallow of my beer, then look over at Levi. He’s intent on the game, munching on a piece of pizza.

There’s a code for talking to your guy friends about girls—a right way and a wrong way. As dumb as it sounds, and as enlightened as guys today are supposed to be, some things never change: you don’t want to sound like a pussy in front of your dudes.

But Levi’s smart, and he really likes Beck. He’s been friends with both of us forever, and if I can’t be up-front with him, then with who? And I have to talk to someone—preferably someone with at least a chance of being neutral.

Neutral, but also slightly on my side, by virtue of bro-code.

“I’m going crazy,” I blurt out. “I miss her so much.”

Levi turns to look at me. “Beck?”

“No, Scarlett Johansson. She didn’t get near enough screen time in the last Avengers movie.”

“Listen,” he says, setting his pizza down on the table between us, “it’s not my fault you’ve been a dumbass.”

“I know, I know.” I swallow some more beer. “It’s just … I don’t know how to talk about this shit.”

To my surprise, he picks up the remote and shuts off the TV. “Just talk.”

“I … fuck, man, I don’t know. I fucked up.”

“Yeah, I know. What are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know, but I have to do something. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Okay.”

“I keep seeing her, how she looked that night—”

“You can keep that part to yourself,” he says, and cracks open another beer.

“No, I mean … I don’t mean that part. I just mean, she was so beautiful, and I started to understand that she’d been there my whole life, and I wanted her to keep being there.”

“She was always gonna be there, Garrett. She was your best friend.”

I shake my head. “Not like that. I wanted her to be more—I didn’t even admit it to myself. I snarled at those guys who wanted to be with her, and I told myself it was because I was her big brother, and I was taking care of her. But that was a lie. I was just trying to keep them away from her because I wanted her for myself.” I set my beer down. “I think I’ve wanted her for a long time, man.”

“Probably,” he says evenly, pointing his beer bottle at me. “But now that you know, what now?”

“I have no fucking idea. I can’t do anything. My dad gave me a big lecture about letting down the whole family — mine and hers—and told me not to toy with her. Her parents won’t let me see her. She won’t talk to me. Probably she wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire. I fucked up so bad.”

“Well, you have to do something,” he says. “Either accept that Beck is gone or do something about it.”

The first option makes me a little sick to my stomach, and I shake my head again. “No Beck isn’t an option, dude. It’s just not.”

“Why?”

I hesitate. I haven’t said it to anyone. I haven’t said it out loud, not even to myself. “I’m in love with her,” I finally say. “I’ve been in love with her for a long time. All those casual girlfriends? Those were camouflage, even to myself.”

He whistles softly. “Okay, so that’s heavy.”

“Yeah, heavier still from in here, bro.”

“So, aside from the part where she’s not speaking to you, what’s the obstacle?”

“Well, you know. Everything. I was an asshole, and she hates me. My dad warned me off. Her dad warned me off.”

“It’s not really up to them, is it?” He shrugs. “Seems to me it’s up to Beck.”

“Then we’re back to I’m an asshole and she hates me.”

“You could stop by there some time—you know, when her parents aren’t there. Make her listen to you.”

“Like I could make Beck do anything.” I feel a smile fighting its way out of my misery. “She’s stubborn as hell. And anyway, her dad is practically always home. Painting or whatever.”

“Work?”

“I don’t want to unless I can’t think of anything else. She takes her job really seriously, and I don’t want to show up and have a fight with her, or get thrown out, or upset her.”

“You could figure out somewhere else she’s gonna be and ambush her.”

“This is starting to sound less like telling her how I feel, and more like stalking.”

“You say tomato,” he says.

I laugh, and it’s the first time I’ve laughed in weeks. “Great plan,” I say. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to have me pop up at some party or whatever and wreck her good time.”

“Do you want to talk to her or not?” he asks.

I get serious. “More than anything.”

“Hang tight.” He grabs his phone, swipes and types for a minute.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m asking Brianna.”

“Then it won’t be a surprise.”

“Do I look like an amateur to you? I’m asking how Beck’s doing first. Casual.”

His phone dings and he types some more, talking out loud as he does. “Are you … making sure she … gets out of the house?”

“I should have thought of that.”

“Yeah, right.” His phone dings again, and he taps some more. “Like Brianna would tell you anything. You think she hasn’t gotten the memo that you’re persona non grata?”

“Oh, right.” I wonder what Bri thinks, but I guess I already know: She probably thinks I’m a douche. And she’s pretty much right.

Levi’s phone dings again. He reads the message, then smiles. “They’re having dinner at Manetti’s tomorrow after work.” The phone dings again. “Beck said she had something to celebrate but didn’t say what it was.”

“If it’s another guy, I’m gonna cut his arms off and beat him to death with them.”

“No, you’re not,” he says. “Because for one, that’s not why a girl invites her best friend to a fancy dinner, so that’s not what’s going on. And for two, if that is what’s going on, you have to accept that you screwed up and these are the consequences.”

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it’s something to think about. Maybe you aren’t meant to be together.”

I just look at him. “How can you even say that?”

“I don’t know—I mean, I know relationships are supposed to be work, but are they supposed to be this hard?” Levi leans forward, looking at me earnestly. “You’re fucking miserable.”

“Yeah, but I did that to myself,” I say. “That’s not the nature of our relationship; it’s just because I screwed up.”

“Then you have to fix it. If she’s what you want, you have to make it happen. If not, you have to figure out how to get by without her—”

“Not an option.”

“—or figure out how to be friends again.”

“I don’t know if we can,” I say. “And, you know what? I don’t want to. I want more than that, and I should have figured it out sooner, sure, but here we are. I’ve figured it out now. I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid for so long.”

“You’ve been real invested in not being in love with her, dude. For a long time.”

“I just—I felt like I had to take care of her,” I say. “She was so sick, and everyone is so careful of her, and I just wanted to look out for her.”

“I don’t think you need to look out for her anymore.” Levi opens the pizza box and comes out with two slices, handing one to me. “She’s not a sick kid anymore. Maybe she’s tired of being looked after.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like that impulse is going to go away.” I take a bite, chew. Swallow. “What am I supposed to do with that—that need to make sure she always feels safe and loved?”

There’s a long moment of silence. I look over, and Levi’s sitting there looking at me like I’m the dumbest person alive. Which I probably am, but I don’t know what’s brought the feeling on just now.

“What?” I ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Dude,” he says. “You want to make her feel safe and loved? And that means you can’t be with her?”

“Yeah,” I say impatiently. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.”

“What the fuck do you think a boyfriend is for?”

We both sit there for a minute without saying anything, while I deal with the fact that my whole worldview just shifted and settled into a new configuration. Finally, I drain the last of my beer. Levi opens another and hands it to me.

“I’m pretty stupid,” I say.

He picks up the remote and turns the game back on. “Amen.”