“Yes, please,” Ma says. “Benito, I promise to watch the movie without asking a million questions.”
“？Mentirosa!” Pa says.
It takes me a second. Then I remember the meaning. “Liar?”
“Ayyy!” Mario says. “？Buen trabajo!”
Pa holds up the plate with the last churro. “Mario, my gift to you.”
“Muchas gracias,” Mario says. He splits the churro with me.
I catch my parents smiling.
It’s getting late, so after we finish our dessert, Mario helps clean up the kitchen. He says bye to my parents, telling them in Spanish that he hopes to see them soon. Ma and Pa say they’d like that, too. That means a lot to me, especially coming from Pa.
I go downstairs with Mario, barely even thinking about the time Arthur burst into tears and kissed me on the second-floor landing, because he’d just Google Translated “estoy enamorado.”
“I love them, Alejo,” Mario says. “My parents are fantastic, but between all my brothers it’s hard to get that kind of attention at home. I see why you wouldn’t want to leave them.”
“Too much attention can be a problem. I’m ready for some more privacy.”
“Look, if this show moves forward, then LA could be a real chance for you to reboot your life. I meant it when I invited you there. I would really like it if you were out there with me.”
“I think I would, too.”
I kiss him out on the street and think about kissing him in Los Angeles, on streets where I’ve never kissed Arthur.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Arthur
Sunday, June 14
Jessie scowls into her light-up tabletop mirror. “Remind me why I’m doing this.”
“Because Namrata talked you into it, and you can’t say no to her.” I smile back at her from the bottom bunk. “Jess, this is how lawyers mate in the wild. The junior associates set up their interns, who then become junior associates who set up their interns—”
“I’m breaking the cycle. No blind brunch dates for my interns. Mark my words.” She squeezes a blob of makeup onto her fingertips with emphatic finality.
“You know how hard I’m going to laugh if this guy turns out to be your soul mate?” I tug up Jessie’s pillow, pinning it against the wall with my head. “Okay, let’s run through what we know about him. Grayson, age twenty, goes to Brandeis, from New York.”
“Long Island. Montauk.”
“Montauk! Taj was just there. His pictures were amazing.” I press my palms to the top bunk’s slatted bed frame. “You should have your wedding by the big lighthouse!”
“What a normal and reasonable thing to decide before I meet this guy.”
“Hey, love is really unpredictable! You have to be ready.”
“Big talk,” Jessie says, “from a guy who still hasn’t responded to his boyfriend’s ‘I love you.’”
I make a face at her. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” she asks, tapping little dots of light brown liquid onto her cheekbones. Jessie always says she doesn’t know what she’s doing with makeup—not that I can tell one way or another. But there’s something so peaceful about watching her open and close all those tiny containers, humming along to her Phoebe Bridgers deep cuts playlist. I bet I could fall asleep on the spot.
Except every time I close my eyes, I start thinking about Mikey. I love you, too. I test out the words in my head. I love you, too. I love you, too. I love you, too. Four quick syllables, already on the tip of my tongue. How have I not erupted by now?
Mikey hasn’t brought it up again—he hasn’t even hinted at the question. But the longer it goes unanswered, the bigger it gets, and it’s really starting to feel like some kind of weird final exam. Question #1, worth your whole goddamn grade: Are you or are you not in love with Mikey?
Probably? Possibly? Signs point to maybe?
I just want to hire some scientist to poke around in my brain and turn it into a PowerPoint. Run all the numbers and make graphs and just tell me how I feel.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was so certain with Ben. Knowing I loved him was like knowing my own name. But this feels so slippery, like I’m scrambling to remember a dream. I know love is supposed to be different when you’re older.
Maybe the certainty comes after you say it out loud.
“I just feel like it’s pointless,” Jessie’s saying. “We’ll both be back in school in two months. I’m not exactly looking for a boyfriend who lives an hour away.”