God, what an emotional roller coaster he’d put me through in the last minute. I wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered （So you do think I’m pretty） or rejected, and so I settled for the next best thing—relieved. Outside of Sanity Circle, I couldn’t recall meeting anyone so willing to show me their hand, let alone throw all their cards on the table. Besides, he’d given me what so many of my paramours of the past had denied me: ground to stand on. I would take it.
Still, there was no way I was giving him a hug now.
“Okay,” I said. I reached for the door handle. “Text me next time you’re in the hospital. If I can get away, we can get lunch. Cool?”
Ricky nodded. He was looking at me in a curious way, an odd, serene smile on his face. His eyes were bright, illuminated by the streetlights outside.
“Cool,” he said. He lingered by the gate until I stepped in and pulled it shut, and then drove off into the night.
Eleven
“Oh man, I could definitely get used to this,” Shae said, patting their stomach and practically purring with contentment. “That was delicious. What is it called, again?”
“Double chocolate fudge surprise,”* Nia said from the kitchen. The recipe was one of her oldest inventions, created when we were in high school, and it was one of my favorites. Normally, the double chocolate fudge surprise came out only for special occasions, and because my birthday had been celebrated with Beyoncé, I’d assumed I wouldn’t taste it this year. Lucky for me, Nia considered impressing her new partner to be worthy of whipping out her best work.
“What’s the surprise?” Shae asked, opening their eyes to give Nia a suggestive smile. “Is it something nasty?”
“I sure hope not,” I interrupted. “Seeing as I’ve been eating it for years.”
I hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but apparently I had, because Shae grimaced and Nia let out a long, all-suffering sigh. It was just . . . ever since Shae and Nia had made things official, I’d been seeing a lot less of my best friend. Our previous romantic relationships had taken up space in our lives, but never like this. Nowadays, Nia was notably MIA most of the time, too busy hanging out with her hot, fun S.O. and her new troupe of gay comediennes* to save time for her Day One.
Not that I had a problem with that. Nia was happy, so I was happy. Extremely happy, in fact. I was extremely happy for Nia and not at all jealous that she wasn’t around as much anymore.
Still, today was a nice change of pace; Nia and Shae had opted to veg out in our apartment instead of Shae’s, where I could at least be their third wheel.
“Don’t worry, Angie,” Shae assured me. “I’m not going to steal her from you.” They shared a conspiratorial look with Nia. “Or, you know, we could set up a trade. Your bestie for mine.”
I balked. Ever since Camila and Ricky’s breakup, Shae had been very transparent about trying to nudge us together. Whether this was out of guilt for snatching my best friend from me or due to some insider knowledge about Ricky’s true intentions was unclear—either way, it was just uncomfortable enough that, most of the time, I ignored them.
Lucky for me, I had a Knight in Shining Armor* in the kitchen.
“Didn’t Ricky just get out of a relationship?” Nia said, speaking my thoughts out loud. “I’m not handing over my best friend to be a rebound for yours.”
Shae made a noise in protest.
“It won’t necessarily be a rebound,” they said. “The boy just loves him some love. He’s quick to get back on the ol’ horse.” They gave me a rakish grin that forced me to remember why Nia liked them so much. “Not that you’re a horse, Angie. You know what I’m saying. He’s a relationship guy. His picker is a bit off, though; Camila was a dream compared to the chick he was with in college. But you seem cool, so—”
“You’re not doing the best job of selling him, babe,” Nia said plainly.
“Doesn’t matter how you sell him,” I grumbled, scraping a strip of OPI Never a Dulles Moment from my thumbnail. “Ricky’s not interested, and neither am I.”
It was true. Since the day in the lobby of the children’s hospital, Ricky and I had been . . . friendly. We talked about art and music and complained about our best friends abandoning us for each other. Twice a week, we got lunch in the small café on the first floor, sometimes coffee, if he came in early. We’d even planned a study session this weekend at his favorite coffee shop in Bridgeport. It was easy talking to Ricky now that we’d ripped away the blanket of uncertainty. The electric chemistry I felt the first day we met had quieted into a comfortable compatibility, the way I felt with Markus, or with Nia.