SIMON TEXTS ME BEFORE I even get to my car. Can you come to Waffle House? Like right now?
I write back immediately. Eerily perfect timing. Just stepping out of Starbucks. I almost wonder if he knew. Waffle House is so close, I could actually walk there.
Oh awesome—we’re in the back, come find us!
My stomach drops. Us?
Me and Nick, he replies.
Fuck. Fuckstravaganza.
God, the thought of facing Nick right now. I don’t even know how I’ll look him in the eye. What if he just knows? What if he can read it on my face? Guess what, Nick! Guess what I did! With your ex-girlfriend! Who you’re still in love with!
Like, this isn’t some minor fuckup. This is a straight-up friend felony.
I stare at the screen of my phone, wondering how I can possibly wriggle out of this. Maybe now’s the time for one of those fictional diarrhea attacks Simon’s so strangely fond of.
Or not. I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to face Nick eventually.
I can be there in five, I write back.
You’re the best, Simon writes.
It’s so warm and breezy out that I think I actually will walk. Might as well leave my car in the gentlemen’s club parking lot. Wouldn’t be the first time a car parked there for hours.
When I get there, they’re slumped on opposite sides of a booth, picking at a single shared waffle. It’s a sad fucking scene. “Hey,” I say, sliding in next to Simon.
Nick perks up. “Hey! Welcome back. How was your road trip?”
My heart twists when he says it. Maybe one day the phrase road trip won’t remind me of Abby. I tuck my legs up, cross-legged on the seat, and press my lips together. “It was good.”
“Good.” He nods quickly. “Hey, so, I was wondering . . .”
“Here we go,” Simon murmurs.
A waitress appears, and I order a waffle and a black coffee. All business. But as soon as she leaves, Nick launches right in. “How was Abby? Like, was she sort of okay, or—I mean, I don’t know. Was she acting weird?”
Shit.
“She seemed . . .”
“Like, was she crying?”
“Um. A little bit?”
I mean, it’s true. She cried a little bit. Right after I called her out. Which was right after she kissed me.
“Whoa. Okay.” Nick’s eyes widen. “That’s . . . okay, good to know.”
I leap frantically toward a subject change. “So, how was your trip?”
“It was great,” Simon says. There’s this catch in his voice.
But before I can ask him what’s wrong, Nick’s off and running again. “I just miss her, you know? Like, we haven’t talked for a week. I keep almost calling her. It’s completely automatic. I just. Ugh.” He rubs his forehead. “This was a mistake, right? We shouldn’t have broken up.”
“Well,” Simon says carefully. “She broke up with you.”
It’s like Nick doesn’t even hear him. “I should have fought for her.” His voice quivers. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I just let her go. What was I thinking?”
Simon shoots me a glance.
“I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I say finally.
“I just didn’t fight hard enough.” He shakes his head. “I should have applied to Georgia.”
“But you love Tufts,” Simon says uncertainly.
“I love Abby.”
I feel almost dizzy. I can’t quite line my thoughts up. All I know is this: Nick loves Abby. I kissed Abby. And if he knew, I don’t think he’d ever be okay. He would never recover.
“Wait.” He peers at me suddenly. “Did she hook up with someone?”
“What?”
“She did, didn’t she?”
“Nick.” Simon sighs.
“Just tell me.” He leans forward. “Who was it—some frat bro?”
“Um.”
“Fuck. I knew it.” He leans back in the booth. “Shit. I can’t believe this.”
I swear to God, I might die. My stomach’s twisting in twenty directions. I don’t think I could speak if I tried.
“Come on.” Simon turns to me. “Abby wouldn’t do that. She didn’t hook up with a frat boy. Right, Leah?”
I nod slowly.
“See? Everything’s going to be fine.” Simon leans his chin onto his hand. “It’s just been a confusing week.”
“Oh?” I say.
Simon sits there, nodding, while Nick stares vacantly into space.
“Simon?”
“Mmhmm?”
I don’t know what to do with Simon when he gets like this. Sometimes I get the vibe he wants me to read his mind. Like he’s sitting there, trying to pour his thoughts directly into my brain, so he won’t have to say them out loud.
I point my fork at him. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Spit it out.”
He does this quiet laugh. “Okay.” I hear him swallow. “I think I fell in love with a school,” he says finally.
“Okay.”
“And it’s not NYU.”
“Right. I got that.” I pause, setting my fork down. “What school?”
“Haverford. It’s really tiny.”
“That’s near Philly, right?”
He nods and bites his lip.
“But Bram’s going to be in New York,” Nick chimes in.
Simon sighs. “Yup.”
“Ah.”
Simon fidgets with the sugar packets.
“Have you talked to Bram?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“You should do that.”
“I know.” He pauses. “Or not. I don’t know. NYU was awesome, too. I’m being ridiculous, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m needlessly complicating things.”
“Yup,” says Nick.
“Well, not necessarily.” I shrug. “What’s so great about Haverford?”
“Ugh. I don’t know.” Simon full-on grimaces. You’d think I’d asked him to speak fondly about calculus. “I just liked it.”
“You just liked it.”
“I’m going to pee,” Nick says, standing abruptly. “Hold that thought.”
But Simon turns to face me. “You wouldn’t believe how many gay people go there. We kept running into them. Like, this one girl hosts a Pride bingo night every Thursday in her dorm room. I could literally go there and only be friends with gay people.”
“Nice.”
“I keep imagining what it would be like to have actual gay friends.”
My heart twists when he says it. It’s hard to explain. The guys think I’m straight, and I feel super weird about that. But also relieved. It’s fucked up.
“I think I’d like that,” he adds.
“But you know they have gay people in New York,” I say. “Like, I’m pretty sure NYU is mega gay.”
“I know, but those are hipster gay people. I need the nerdy gays.”
“And Haverford has the nerdy gays?”
“It’s like ninety-nine percent nerds there. That’s an actual statistic.”
I bite back a smile. “I think you found your people.”
Simon groans softly and covers his face. “It’s just . . . like I felt something when I was there. Like, I got to the campus and it just felt right. It felt like it chose me. You know what I mean?”
The question catches me off guard, and I let my mind drift back to the past few days. Funny how the campus tour already feels so hazy. I mostly just remember the look on Abby’s face when she said maybe I’m not actually straight. I mean, she didn’t seem so straight when she kissed me.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “I think it’s different. Like, I already knew I’d be going to Georgia. I wasn’t looking for that kind of moment.”
“I wasn’t looking for it either,” he mutters. “Like, what am I doing? Everything was perfect, and I just had to fuck it all up.”
“You didn’t fuck anything up, Simon.” My coffee and waffle arrive all at once. I start in with the syrup—a tiny drop in each square. “Like, what’s the worst-case scenario?”
He blinks. “We break up.”
“Do you want to break up?”
He looks at me like I’ve smacked him in the face. “Are you kidding? No!”
“Does Bram?”
“No. Of course not. No.”
“Then what am I missing?” I ask, taking a bite of waffle. “You guys will be fine.”
“This is ridiculous. I should go to NYU. That’s the plan. I don’t know why this is even a question.” Simon shakes his head quickly. “I should go to NYU, right?”
“Sure. Unless you like nerdy gay wonderland better.”
He groans. “You’re no help.”
“I mean, how far is Philly from New York?”
“Like an hour and a half by train,” he says immediately. Clearly, he’s researched this. “A little shorter if I take the Acela.”
“That’s not that bad, Simon.”
“I know. But.” He frowns. “It’s still long distance.”
“And you don’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.”
“I mean, I don’t mind it, in theory. I just don’t know if they ever work.”
“Tons of people make them work.”
“Yeah, but look at Nick and Abby.” He gestures vaguely toward the bathroom. “That’s a freaking mess.”
My heart almost stops. People need to warn me if they’re going to mention her out of nowhere like that. Especially if they’re going to talk about her and Nick being a freaking mess.
But Jesus Christ. I need to stop. I stab my waffle with my fork and shove it into my mouth. This is absurd. Literally absurd. As if Abby Suso, real-life Disney princess, is going to run straight into my arms. Even if she did, I couldn’t do that to Nick. Not that she would. I mean, she’s not even really bi.
But she’s questioning things. I make her question things.
“Are you . . . okay?” Simon asks, peering nervously through his glasses.
“What?” I whip my head up. “I’m fine. Why? Are you okay?”
“Okay, you’re acting super weird.”
“No, I’m not.”
He raises his eyebrows. We stare each other down.
“You’re acting weird,” I mutter, looking away finally.
“I know.” He covers his face. “I just need to think about this.”
“I think you should talk to Bram. When are you seeing him?”
“Not until the game tomorrow.”
“The soccer game?”
Simon nods.
“Then talk to him right afterward.”
He sighs. “I don’t know.”
“Simon. You’ll feel better, I swear.”
That’s right, Simon. Be totally open and tell him everything that’s bothering you. Okay? You should definitely take my advice, because I’m just so fucking good at all this sharing and caring stuff myself. Feelings. I rule at them.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But you have to come with me to the game and psych me up for it.”
“You guys are coming to the game?” Nick says, reappearing at the end of the booth. “Sweet.”
“Um.” I glance at Simon. “I guess so.”
“Yes. Good. That’s good.” Simon nods quickly. Then he stuffs a bunch of waffle into his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a hamster.