“He doesn’t like you.” Ben’s voice is lazy. He yawns, and I want to punch him in his mouth. We are standing in my front yard. I’ve only been home for a half hour. But he doesn’t know I didn't sleep here. Or maybe he does, and he is saving that remark.

He is helping me wash Beau. Sasha has already been outside with a pitcher of lemonade, and I can tell she likes Ben. She likes him for me. And it makes me wonder if this is what I would feel like if I had a mother telling me she liked a boy. If I would immediately find the boy unacceptable for me. Instead of punching Ben, I spray him with water.

“He told me so,” I reply. And it sounds weak.

"What did he say?” Ben asks, wiping his face.

I laugh, pissed, at myself. “He said he liked me.” I grab the towel on the ground and begin to dry Beau off. He stands still. Such a good boy.

"That’s it?” Ben starts winding up the hose, staring over at the school.

"Yeah.”

"Well, how about you give me a call when you decide to stop lying.” The hose goes 'round and 'round his arm, getting shorter and shorter.

I call out when he goes to hang it up on the hook by the house. “Hey, asshole, lay off!” I see the blinds move, Sasha’s raised eyebrow.

He turns back. Crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing.

"Why are you doing this?” I ask. Beau runs off when I pull the towel away. 

"It’s for your own good. Say it.”

"He said I like you.” I stare at my bare feet, at the polish on my toes, hoping Ben will speak, saving me from the rest. But he is silent, waiting, so I look up into his eyes. “Then, he said I love her.”

It didn’t matter that he was talking about his daughter. There was another truth there. It swells around us. Hot as the air, just as threatening.

Ben nods when I look up, into his green eyes. “He always will, Sev. It’ll fade, and it may piss him off. It may ruin any chance for him to get anyone else he wants. But he loves her. It’s not healthy, and it’s not smart. But fuck, that’s love, I guess. It’s like that in the movies and the books. So it’s gotta come from somewhere. That’s real life.” I nod at him when he motions to our empty glasses on the porch. I watch his arms as he pours from the sweaty pitcher.

"I’ve been in love with him half my life, it seems.” It’s easy to use that word, even though I know the truth now.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah.” I count out loud. “Ever since…”

"No, I mean, are you sure you’re in love with him? That’s not real, you know. It’s a crush. A pretty long crush, I’m impressed. But still, a crush.”

"Are you telling me how I feel now?” He isn’t wrong, but I am reaching for something here now. Something inside of him.

"I’m making you question it.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve been doing that for a while.” I think of roses, the scent outside my window.

"We should question everything in life.”

"Yeah, I guess so.” I gulp my drink down, wipe my mouth with my sweaty arm. The heat is already too much.

"Wait, what do you mean I’ve been making you question that? That in particular?” he asks.

"Nothing. It doesn’t matter. When are you leaving town?” We have been talking about our expiration date. It doesn’t feel as heavy as it does with Bryan. Ben doesn’t make me feel guilty for my inevitable escape. He craves it, too.

"When you leave,” he says.

"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna stick around until my father passes?” I walk to the porch, set my glass down. It almost breaks. I didn’t mean to set it down so hard.

"Fuck,” Ben says, behind me.

"Fuck, indeed.” I turn to him, eyeing the school, over his shoulder. I have a day date with Bryan later. In town. In front of everyone, if I am lucky. If we get this right.

"Is that really how long you’re staying? Don’t you have a job to go back to?” Ben loses his smart-ass tone. He uses the gentle one, saved for these moments only. When I bring up my father. I can speak about him in a way I cannot with others. Not with Bryan. Not with my sister. Not with my aunt. Because he isn’t trying to comfort me. He is trying to listen. He doesn’t know what it means to me.

"I’m a writer. I can work remotely until I finish the project I’m working on.” I haven’t been working on anything. When in the face of my muse, it seems, I clam up. Or maybe grief shuts the door. “When it’s time to meet with people, shop it around, that’s when the face-to-face fun is necessary. I packed up my apartment, sublet it.”  

“I see. Are you ready for today?”

“I’m not ready.”

“I bet. See you there.”

Ben leaves me to clean up. When I am done, I sit on the front porch, staring across the street at Bryan’s truck.

Surviving Burlingame means playing games. Cute little games. To secure community funding for the low-income apartments, a fundraiser is going on in the town square. That damn gazebo and that damn town. And I am going to be there. Because Bryan wants me to go. To be out in the open with him. It’s what I’ve wanted. What I tell him I deserve when we are together, but I am dreading it. They are auctioning off eligible dates with eligible bachelors. Bryan is not an eligible bachelor, but as I told him, people still care about him. Some people are on his side.

It's scandalous. Burlingame’s golden couple, officially out as broken up. As, moving on. In a way.

Bryan is making a statement by putting himself up for auction. I am unsure of how I feel about it. For his sake. The gossips of Burlingame can be fierce.

I didn't ask what was in his basket, but he winked at me when he carried it out of his bedroom. I yawned around my smile, my eyes sharing his mischief.

Now, my confidence in winning his basket is dwindling.

Two hours later, I walk up to the gazebo in the town square, filled with familiar faces I want to avoid.

I spot Aurora immediately. Her blonde locks always stood out. She is 5’11 and always wears heels. She wants the whole world to know where she is in a crowd. At times, I do not damn the way she peacocks herself in a room. I see insecurity behind it. 

I look away from her and look up into the gazebo and find Bryan’s eyes. They are cold, in a way I am not familiar with, and don't want to be. I've seen his frustration. His lust. His indifference.

His eyes flitter to Aurora, and I see it. The love and the loss of it. I wish I knew how he felt. But I am still the novice when it comes to real relationships. Always watching him and his experiences, listening to his stories of their past, when he gives them. Feeding off them.

I laugh, to myself, and there is no humor there. I tug on my sleeveless top, riding up on my shoulder. There is still a burn there, and I feel like walking summer. My skin is hot, but it’s not the heat. It’s the slow rage building. I am a dumbass, and I have no one to blame but myself.

When I look back up at the gazebo my eyes catch another Winthrop. Bryan’s father has his arm draped over both of his sons, and he is watching me. He saw my eyes all over his eldest. Did he know about our affair in high school? How could I be so stupid? Of course he did. This town is nothing but ears and mouths willing to share every sin. I do not look away until he does. His soft preacher's laugh finds my ears, and I wish I didn't know his every secret. I want to look at him like I did as a little girl. Sweet Brent Winthrop. Town savior. Kind voice and there to ease your worries, forgive your sins. There to hide his own.

I hear a wolf whistle and jump. Ben calls to me. “Sevvy! Girl, you better win my basket.” I blush, then turn white when I see Bryan whip his eyes to his brother.

I hate myself.

I hate Ben.

I want Ben sometimes, and that scares the ever-loving shit out of me.

The crowd swallows me when I walk away, from the stares and the noise. I find my tree, close to the courthouse. I can see everything and watch in silence. I run over the winners’ rewards. A picnic around the town pond. Perfectly blue and surrounded by yellow flowers. A date at Nelly’s Steakhouse, by candlelight. It’s like one huge group date. Young and old. Rich and poor. If you have enough cash saved to bid on the basket of the mayor, then you’re in. You can do what you want after the town sees you run through the motions. Did many hit it off in real life? My father found himself auctioned off when I was a little girl. My sister and I hoped he would find someone he liked. Someone to come around. Be a mother to us.

My father arrived home by 8 p.m. and brought ice cream. He brushed off our questions, said it was a perfectly lovely date but he wasn’t interested in changing his life. He loved his routine with us, and it was all he needed.

We tried not to appear too disappointed. Our dreams and plans dashed away by his dismissal of Dorothy, the sweet lady who ran the register at the Town and Country supermarket in town.

She wasn't here when I returned to town. My aunt told me she married the former vice principal and then moved to Topeka.

I could never help my wandering thoughts. My obsessions. Would she have been there for my father had their date turned into more? Would she be visiting him right now? Would she be there for him until the end? The end, I can feel it approaching like a slow-moving train. Just one more thing for me to obsess over. Just one more loss to mourn. A glimmer of hope gone before I could even touch it.

What's worse, having a nuclear family that is toxic behind closed doors? Or having a family that is missing a vital piece? I wish I knew.

I look into the crowd, over to Aurora, and see Britt. She is looking at me, all alone, trying to hide from the crowd. She leaves Aurora and comes in my direction. My stomach lurches.

You need closure in your life. You can’t bury the memories. They will always resurface. I thought I pushed all of this down far enough. Now we are all here, open and alive. The ghosts of my past have faces, and they are staring back at me. Reminding me of my sins, past and present.

I will always be the lesser, the one who ran away before her heart could be thoroughly shattered. States and miles cannot cure you of this kind of harrowing shadow. I buried this for years. I manipulated our story, wrote it out, changed the dates and the ending. It’s the only way I could stomach it all. The only way I could get through the days, the endless expanse of healing set out in front of me. I took another path. I avoided it. You need closure in your life, and I chose the open wound.

It doesn’t hit me, how deeply I buried this, until I see her face close up again. My body reacts. Small tremors, tears shining in my eyes. But I don’t let them fall. I can’t. I will be strong, and I will keep this spine straight. My chin up, free from the red. I will confront this.

“I guess I just don’t see it. How did you become friends? She didn't give us the time of day in high school.” I look in Aurora's direction. I think of Britt asking me when I would end it, back then.

“We aren’t in high school anymore, Sev. We gotta leave all that in the past. I would think that would be easy for you. You left, and you don’t have the reminders. I’m here, where there are old memories everywhere I look, and I left it behind.”

“True.”

“I guess you didn't though. I mean, you’ve been writing about this high school crush for years.” She looks at Bryan, hard eyes, the same as they always were.

“You make it sound like an obsession.”

“But isn’t it?” She looks back at me.

“I needed something to focus on. Something to take my mind off what happened. It was just something I did to pass the time. To calm my racing mind. It all just sort of blew up. It wasn’t supposed to be the thing that has defined my career so far. I am going to write something else. I’ll write something for her.” The silence washes over us. The blame. The resentment. I want to reach out and touch Britt. I want to hug her. I remember the way her arms felt around me when I was caught up in my own drama. She was a comforter, deep under her forward words, and now she was the enemy by proxy. I break the silence. “I want to go back.”

“To what?”

“To cruising around town. To sour cream fries and basketball games. To laughing in the stands and leaning against our lockers, laughing. To crushes. To the time when we thought everything was a tragedy but really, it wasn’t. To before everyone started leaving me for good. To when you and I shared things.”

“I don’t know how to be your friend without messing everything up,” she admits. “You said you’re not staying. This isn't your home, and I can’t throw everything out of whack for someone who never called. For someone who forgot I existed. I get it. You were grieving but so was I. And you all left me at once. I’ve made this life here, and it’s not worth ruining.”

“So you can't even choose your own friends now? Sounds like a stellar thing you got with Aurora there.” I’m hurting. My throat hurts when I speak, and I don't want to be angry, but it’s the only emotion I can let out.

"It’s about respect, Sev. You're fucking around with her husband. Yeah, they are separated and all that, but it’s still a fact. And they have a kid. A family.” She crosses her arms, and her gaze flickers to Aurora. I see it then – their daughter by her side.

Her words hurt me and she will probably brush me off, but I’m not sure I care. I miss my friend. I try out the words. “I miss you, Britt. I don’t have many people here.”

She stares ahead when she speaks. “You have Bryan. And you have Ben Winthrop, too. Never saw that one coming.”

“He’s my friend.”

“So you have a friend then. Grow up and deal with this."

"You're still kind of bitchy," I whisper. I mean it as a compliment, she doesn't get it. We are so far removed from each other it hurts.

“Sometimes I say the wrong thing. I’m human. But, you wrote it. You put it out into the world. You have to take responsibility for that. Claim it.”

"I get it. It hurt people.”

"Do you? You wrote it. Own it or don’t write anymore.”

"I really wish you wouldn’t tell me what you think I should do.” Jealousy is an ugly thing. And I can hear it beating in my ears, thundering in my heart. I hate Aurora for taking her from me.

"Seriously, Sev, stop being a brat. Just take responsibility for it. Good or bad.”

"I missed you, you know? I missed you before I knew you were friends with her.”

"I know you want to make her out to be the bad guy. But she has feelings, too. Why are you so easy on him and hard on her? Because it’s convenient to forgive him. Forgiving him means you can kiss him, fuck him.”

"Fuck him? Or I can fuck him?”

"Both, you know I never liked him. He is so shady. He can’t figure out what the fuck he wants, so he takes it all.”

"Two sides though, right?”

"Maybe. But I say fuck his side. He hurt you, my best friend. And now, whether you like it or not, I’m Aurora’s friend. And he’s hurting her, too.”

"Why does it happen this way? All the damn time. The shitty couples stay together forever.”

"They aren’t together.”

"But aren't they? They’re tethered. I can’t break him away. He will never want me, and just me, will he?” I am drowning out the sounds of the crowd. I want to find Ben's eyes. Eyes that always say I told you so, but comfort me regardless. 

"I wish I could say yes. Because I know that’s what you want to hear. What you’ve always wanted to hear. But I just don't think so, Sev.” She walks away and I cling to my name from her. It sounded like she was talking to a friend for a moment there.

I wipe my eyes and look across the lawn, over to the Winthrop men. Beautiful and tragic. The sound of a booming voice amplified by a microphone pulls me from my thoughts.

What the hell is in Bryan's basket and how can I possibly bid on it with Aurora here? With their daughter here? Talking to Britt has me aching, guilty. I understand moving on, but this would be making a statement that the town would never forget. They still haven't forgotten our transgressions, all those years ago.

My nagging and urging him to move on have hit him too deeply. This isn't what I meant. I meant for him to let the guilt ease from his chest. Not to make some statement in front of the whole town. We both know this is fleeting. Why does he want to let himself sit in the aftermath of this? I can’t join him in the blame.

I step closer as the bidding begins on the new high school superintendent.

The men are lined up in front of the gazebo now. A portion of the high school band is playing saxophones out on the lawn. It's so cookie cutter, and it makes me laugh, but it’s low. I grew up in a sitcom, and somehow, I forgot. You can't make this shit up, and I never missed it, but I see the charm. I see the safety here. And I get it. You can make a home in a place like this. You can make a home in a person, too. Maybe that’s what I am trying to do.

Bryan is a staple here. He is needed in the grand scheme of things. The town owns him and they love him, even when he falls. I look up at Bryan again, and he is staring at me intensely, so I walk in his direction. I’m always in his gravitational pull.

He walks to the end of the line of men, and I find him. Red face and sweat along his brow. "She brought my daughter."

“I know.” It’s nearly a whisper. “Did you know she was going to show up? And, I mean, did she even know you were going to do this? I feel like this is something you should have discussed.” I feel for Aurora in this moment. Britt is more right than I will let her know.

"I thought you wanted me to do this.” His brow furrows, and I shrink a little. Communication is not what we are good at. We are barbs and sex and kissing and hidden desires.

"This specifically? No. I want you to move on and do what you need to be happy. But this seems extreme. And I was too high off the fucking this morning to talk you out of it. I guess it didn't feel real.” Talking someone off a cliff when you’re post-coital shouldn’t be legal.

"Are you kidding me?” I don’t like his tone. People are looking at us.

"No, Bryan.”

"What do we do?” It’s clear, and one of us needs to say it. So I do.

"I can't bid on your basket. I don't even know which one is yours. What’s in it?”

"Why? You're not bidding, right?” My neck feels hot, and the tone hasn’t left. 

"Well, I want to make sure I don't get it.”

"Are you going to bid on another one?”

"I was thinking about it.” My tone matches his. My lips are a straight line, and I desperately want a cup of coffee. He kept me up all night, and now I wish I had gotten more sleep. 

"Are you serious?”

"Yes? Ben said to bid on his.”

“That was a joke to piss me off. You’re going to?”

"I thought about it. Might throw the scent off?” It’s not why I want to bid. I want to feel his company near me. I want to feel something lighter. I want to go back to the feeling of this morning after I left Ben. I didn’t dissect it. I didn’t scrutinize it when I went inside, even though Sasha started in with a million questions.

"Why do I feel like that isn't the reason you want to?”

It’s on my face. My betraying face. Always giving away my emotions and desire. "This again?"

"This. Always. Until it’s over.”

"Until what’s over?” Sometimes our bickering turns me on. Right now, it doesn’t. 

"All of this.” He walks away, leaving me with his anger.

I follow him with my eyes and find Ben's. He’s laughing at us.

When the bidding for Ben begins, I raise my hand. I win.