Page 97 of Do You Ship It

Jake.

Not Max.

I finally wrench my gaze away from Max, looking somewhere down at Jake’s feet, and then managingto look at the neck of his T-shirt, which is somewhat better, and I take a deep breath.

‘I understand,’ I tell Jake. ‘I do, really. And I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve been more upfront with you, and –’

‘No, no, Cer, this is my fault. I’m the one who –’

‘But it was just – it wasn’t … I mean …’A mistake, reckless, stupid, just a kiss, but I can’t say any of those things, not with Max right there, and not when I’m trying so hard to be honest right now.

I regret losing Jake; I do not regret that kiss.

But I can’t put aside the last few months and everything that’s changed and grown between me and Jake over Discord for a single kiss.

For Max.

Jake’s holding on to my elbows, and he falls quiet to let me speak.

‘I was scared that I might lose you as a friend, but now I’m understanding how ridiculous that is, and I thought it was all just some one-sided crush, but it’snot. Is it? Because we – I mean, we are friends, aren’t we, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? That’s what all this has been about, right?’ I gesture between us, my heart racing. My smile is nervous, but I can’t help let it spread across my face, and my voice sounds a little steadier when I carry on. ‘The 87 missed messages gushing about a season finale, and staying up tilmidnight swapping theories andtalking, properly talking – about uni and our families and college andeverything. Analysing why we love certain characters so much because we relate to them a little too hard! And – and being the “newbie” and the “rascal”, and I know things have changed between us, and we don’t always talk like we used to, but – it’s changed for the better, hasn’t it? And we – what I mean is –’

Oh, God, I’m going to do it, I’m going to actually really finally do it –

‘And it’s not just a crush, anymore.’ I drag my eyes from Jake’s collar to his face as I say, ‘Because I’m falling for you.’

But even as the words leave my mouth, my brain registers that something about this is off – andnotbecause none of this is like I would’ve imagined last summer: in a tightly-packed board-game cafe surrounded byOf Wrath and Runenerds.

Because Jake’s mouth is slack and his hold on my elbows is loose, and it’s not that there’s a spark of hope in his gaze or a twist of regretful rejection in his eyebrows, it’s …

The completely, utterly blank look in his eyes.

‘Cerys,’ he says slowly, and my smile falters. ‘I don’t … What are you …?’

He’s not rejecting me …

… because he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

There’s a small, strangled noise from just behind him, and that’s when I notice the wide eyes, flushed cheeks and speechless, stunned, confused look – onMax’sface.

And, suddenly, it all falls into place.

Truce? Truce. In the Discord chat. Through the bathroom door.

The way he kept calling me ‘newbie’.

The admissions about being defensive of his fandom.

Mentioning football or school or the sister at uni, and I alwaysassumedit was Jake, but – but it wasn’t, was it? Because Max shares the same classes, and is on the same football team; he has an older sister at uni too.

Being sobotheredby how upset I was about Jake and Anissa at the party, likewehad a connection of our own, enough for him to care about my feelings.

Talking to me about how I was afraid of being judged and liked, like he knew what he was talking about, like I’d told him – because Ihad.

The times he scoffed when I said something about the show or the characters, and I thought he was being disparaging and didn’t believe I was genuinely invested, but he was probably just reacting to something he already knew, like it was blatantly obvious already, and went without me saying, and …

Oh, my God.

It’s not Jake.

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