Page 76 of Friends with Benefits

“Me too.”

He tilts his head back and Evie waits for the nose wrinkle that always accompanies the burn of alcohol.Me too.It’s so earnest, it makes her miss a life that was never hers—late nights at Alejandro’s, attending Slippery People’s one-night-only performance of “Piano Man,” experiencing New York with Theo.

Took you long enough.

We both fell for women who deserve better.

Come on.

“Do you ever wonder…” Evie doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, how to articulate what she’s feeling in a way that doesn’t cross every boundary that protects her, protects them. Does he ever wonder what? If Evie’s natural frequency matches New York, too? If in this city, their relationship would’ve amplified?

Her cheeks are on fire.

But two shots aren’t enough to safeguard her heart from his reply.

“All the time.”

Does Theo even know what he’s admitting to? No way. Ifhe ever felt how she once felt, in the past,a super long time ago… wouldn’t she know? Wouldn’t she have felt it, too? No. Evie swaps tequila for water before she says (or does!) anything she’ll regret, then harasses him about Slippery People until last call and it feels just like waking up in his arms. Warm and weird. Back at Dev’s, Theo is asleep the moment his head sinks into a pillow.Don’t be weird.She lies down and stares at the ceiling. Counts backward from one hundred. Is unable to crash next to him becauseshe is vibrating, so she takes a pillow and her phone to the couch.

Puts distance between them.

And then, only then, is she still enough to sleep.

NEW YORK, SPRING BREAK, FRESHMAN YEAR

Evie

She turns nineteen in the sky, on her way to Theo.

It’s March. Pisces season. Her first time on a plane.

Yesterday, while texting duringSurvivor, Theo asked her what she wanted for her birthday.

You, she thought.

You.

You.

You.

Twenty-four hours later, Evie’s thirty-three thousand feet in the air because she can be. It was impulsive, purchasing a plane ticket without telling Theo. Only because she knew what his reaction would be.Are you sure you can handle that?Lately he speaks to her as if she’s made of porcelain. She’s not. In fact, after a near year working with Dr. Griffith, her gastroenterologist, to figure out what combination of medications seems to best manage her brand of Crohn’s with minimal side effects, Evie feels okay.

Finally.

No, her brain corrects.For now.

The last time Theo saw her? She was not okay. Still inphysical therapy. Still flaring. Still processing that Crohn’s disease is a chronic illness, thatchronicmeansforever. But now? She feels good enough to be impulsive and it’s terrifying and exhilarating, to feel okay enough to want and be able to have, even just for a moment. Evie spent so much of her eighteenth year wanting impossible things. New York. Dance. Cheese. Shelovedcheese. Evie dreamed about baked brie. Yearned to point her toes without hissing in pain. Ached to experience life in New York with her best friend. Next month marks one year since the fall that led to a diagnosis that upended her life and clarified it all at once. Today, Evie has made peace with vegan cheese. Her ankle no longer hisses but whimpers. She’s in clinical remission. So when snow fell in New York as her spring break began… it felt like a sign to go. Experience snow.

Upon deplaning, Evie learns it’s disgusting.

City snow.

She hauls her suitcase onto a crowded E train, toes frozen from stepping in a dirt slush puddle. Someone looks up from the SundayTimescrossword puzzle to shoot her alookfor having the audacity to sit in a seat reserved for people with disabilities. She averts her eyes. Doesn’t have the energy to tell him to fuck all the way off. Tears sting the corners of her eyes.

From the cold.

Not from the overwhelm of it all.

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