“Pretty much.”
Jacob nods. “So the obvious question is about perspective, right? Whose story are we telling? What’s your role in it?”
“I’m the guy who figured it out too late?”
“Okay. Are you the obstacle? Is California the happily ever after? Or . . .” Jacob pauses. “Are you the guy running to the airport to stop him? Are you the protagonist?”
“I . . .” I blink. “How would I even know that?”
“Here’s a hint.” Jacob smiles. “It’s your life. You’re always the protagonist.”
My heart flips, but I tamp it down. “Right, but. My ex is also his own protagonist. And so is his boyfriend.”
“Absolutely,” says Jacob.
“So it’s not that simple. I don’t just get to declare myself the protagonist because I want to be in this story.”
“Sure. You can’t control how it’s going to play out, of course. And if Ben says no, that’s that. But if you want to be in the story, go be in the story! Chase him to the airport!”
“I think he’s driving.”
Taj leans toward me. “It’s a metaphor. He’s saying you should tell Ben how you feel.”
“Oh! God, no. That’s—yeah, no. Ha ha. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Taj asks.
“Because I’m not trying to shit all over his happiness?” I wince. “He’s in a new relationship. I don’t want to interfere with that.”
“You’re only interfering if he has feelings for you, too,” Taj points out.
“I haven’t even told him Mikey and I broke up. It’s just not—” I cut myself off, heart pounding. “I’m just worried I’ll make things harder for him.”
Jacob looks at me. “Or are you worried he’ll reject you?”
“I’m terrified he’ll reject me,” I say, without hesitation.
Pretty sure he already has.
Jacob keeps telling me to go home, but I’d rather throw myself into work—I barely even leave the stage until Jacob shoos us out at five. It’s been hours since I’ve looked at my phone, but I feel it ringing in my bag before I even step outside.
It’s Jessie, who usually texts, so I rush to accept it. “Hey! Everything okay?” I ask.
“Are you okay? You got my texts, right?” Her voice is both exasperated and concerned, and I realize with a pang that I’ve heard this combination before. Senior year, the first few weeks after Ben and I broke up.
“Totally fine.” I root around in my bag for my earbuds. “Sorry, I was onstage all day. They were working on cues and stuff.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry. I was just checking in about Sunday, but it’s all in the texts. I don’t want to repeat myself. Basically, I’m just wondering if we can bump the Friday night Grayson thing to Sunday dinner.”
“Works for me. Can’t wait to meet him.” I slip in my earbuds, so I can see my texts while we talk.
“Me too! I think you guys will get along,” she says, and the next thing I know, she’s listing off restaurants. But I lose the thread completely when I see Dylan’s text. Okay Seussical, Friday night escape room, bros night. Be there
“So maybe sevenish?” asks Jessie.
“Sure.” I stare at my screen. “Hey, so. Dylan just invited me to an escape room on Friday?”
“Oh, cool. Those are really fun. I did one in Providence.”
“Yeah, but—” I step to the right to let a family pass me on the sidewalk. “You don’t think it’s weird that Dylan’s inviting me to hang out? And to an escape room? Why would I want to be locked in a room with Ben and Mario? Unless he’s trying to sabotage the California thing by—”
I stop short, trying to dislodge the tiny seed of hope threatening to take root in my brain. Because even if Dylan is trying to spark something, it’s not like Ben has to go along with it. At the end of the day, Dylan doesn’t get to vote on Ben’s love life.
And neither do I.
“Oh yeah. Yikes,” Jessie says. “I don’t know.”
“I should say no, right?”
“Sure, unless you want to go—”
“I absolutely don’t.” My voice booms so loudly, a dog drops his stick. “I’m done. I don’t need to get tangled up in that whole group and all their weird enmeshed friendships. I just want to hang out with my people. Like you and Ethan. And I can’t wait to meet Grayson, and—oh, I’m almost at the subway, but listen, I know Grayson can’t be there, but if you still want to hang out on Friday night, let me know. I’m free. Obviously.”