I laugh. “I don’t think so? But it’s a queer theater, and my boss and his husband go all out for Pride. They dress up and march in the parade, and there are definitely feathers involved.”
“Wow! So what’s our game plan?”
“Well.” I peer up Broadway, shielding my eyes. “We’re at Forty-Second Street now, so I can show you some of the theaters if you want. Most of them are just—”
“No, I mean what’s our plan for Pride?” Ethan says. “What’s the gay agenda?”
“Ehhh, no thanks.” I make a face.
“What? Why not?”
“I’m not exactly in the celebratory mood,” I say.
“Uh-uh. Nope. Pride has nothing to do with Mikey!”
“You know Mikey’s gay, right?”
“I mean, it’s not about you and Mikey. It’s about you and your identity, your community. I mean, look at this. It’s incredible.” Ethan gestures vaguely at the flags and streamers adorning the storefronts, the giant screens lit up with rainbows.
“Okay? Obviously, I’m glad it exists. I just don’t feel like going to a big gay party a week after my big gay breakup.”
“But this is a big gay opportunity to move on! What if you run into the guy you’re really meant to be with?”
“Then he’ll have to wait,” I say. “Look, I appreciate the effort, but—”
“Or even the guy you’re meant to hook up with. I can be your wingman!”
“I’m pretty sure the universe isn’t weighing in on my hookups.”
“Yeah? Then explain this,” Ethan says, stopping short in front of a Broadway souvenir shop. There’s a mannequin in the window wearing a shirt I know by heart, the word “love” written over and over down its front in every color of the rainbow.
“That’s the Lin-Manuel Miranda quote—”
“Dude, I know the quote. Come on, I’m buying that for you.” Already, he’s pulling me into the store.
“Not necessary.”
“Oh, I absolutely insist—”
“I mean I already have that shirt,” I mutter.
Ben mailed it to me senior year of high school as a Chanukah gift. I still remember how it felt to see his handwriting on the package label.
“No way! That’s perfect—”
“Ethan. Stop,” I snap. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want to go.”
“I know. I hear you, but—”
“Why are you so hung up on this?”
“I’m not hung up on it! Sheesh,” he says, staring a little too intently at a snow globe display.
Which is when I remember that Ethan literally took a train up from Virginia to cheer me up. And here I am yelling at him in a souvenir store.
“Ethan—God. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re fine. I get it.”
“I’m just messy right now, with the Mikey stuff,” I say. “But it’s so unbelievably cool of you to come up here. Honestly, it’s cool that you want to go to Pride! Like, not every straight guy is clamoring to play wingman at Pride for his gay best friend—”
“I mean,” Ethan says, “I don’t know if that’s true—”
“It is. It’s not lost on me. Not everyone has an Ethan. Talk about above and beyond. Surprising me in New York—and orchestrating the whole thing with your ex-girlfriend?”
“No, I mean.” Ethan picks up a snow globe. “Okay, I guess I have a thing to tell you.”
“A thing.”
“A life update, kind of?”
“Okay . . .” My mind flips through the possibilities like a slideshow. A life update. Something he wants to tell me. It’s funny, this reminds me so much of—
Two summers ago. When Ethan and Jessie announced they were dating.
My jaw drops. “You and Jess are back together!”
Ethan looks dumbfounded. “We are?”
“Okay, I’m not going to be an asshole this time. Wow! I knew you guys were talking again—”
“We’re not back together,” says Ethan.
“Hooking up—”
“You know I live in Virginia.”
“Which is why you’re in town! To win her back!”
Ethan bursts out laughing. “Arthur, wow. No.”
“Then what’s—”
“If you stop talking for a minute, I’ll tell you.” He shakes the snow globe, smile flickering. “So . . . I realized something lately.”