Page 112 of The Summer of Everything

Nico tugs off a nylon drawstring backpack and digs through it. He pulls out a book. No, a graphic novel. He holds up a copy ofBlackest Night. “Think there’s anyone who I might be compatible with?”

Whoa. Wes inhales sharply.

“So, yeah,” says Cooper, jerking on Lucas’s arm, edging toward the bookstore. “Looks like fate did you a solid.”

“I was thinking we could…” Nico signals behind him, toward the pier. “…maybe head down to the beach? Grab some food? Just like, uh, the two of us?”

“The two of us,” repeats Wes.

“The two of us,” Nico confirms. His scarred eyebrow is lifted, waiting.

“Go,” Lucas whispers-shouts, softly punching the base of Wes’s spine.

Then Lucas and Cooper giggle as they tumble into the bookstore. They’re barely out of earshot when Cooper says, “Holy fuck, Nesley’s real. Wait ‘til I tell my followers.”

“Want a ride to the beach?” offers Nico, pointing toward his skateboard.

“Are you serious?” Wes asks. “That didn’t work out for us last time.”

“True that.” Nico kicks up his board, taking it in his left hand. The fingers of his free hand wiggle between them. Nervous energy vibrates off him. So Wes does the bravest thing he’s done in a long time. He grabs Nico’s hand, threading their fingers together.

As they walk leisurely toward the pier, Nico comments, “Cool shirt.”

Wes peeks down. He can’t believe it. It’s his lucky Green Lantern tee.

An hour later, Wes brushessand out of his hair and mouth, shaking it off his jeans. They’d decided to goof around after finding an abandoned Frisbee on the beach. Bad idea. Wes ate it no less than three times trying to jump and leap and teach his unwilling body about coordination. Nico was all cool grace, snagging the flying disc from the sky like a god pulling down the heavens—an injustice Wes will watch for as long as time gives him.

Now they stand near a food truck parked outside Palisades Park. Nico buys them churros. Wes squints against the headlights shining from cars as they pass. People move in herds all around them. Music exits a nearby restaurant’s balcony, flooding the air.

Ocean Avenue is alive.

“Here.” Nico holds one of those paper boats; the churros sit on a sheet of parchment paper. He quickly chucks a small container filled with chocolate dipping sauce in a nearby trash bin. They both love their churros as is.

“Uh.” Nico chews slowly, barely making eye contact. “This isn’t boring, right?”

An eyebrow slowly ascends Wes’s forehead.

“I mean.” Nico stammers. “This doesn’t cement me in the top five unoriginal first dates, right? Because I can handle top ten. I’m even cool with a hard eight on the corniest dates metric. But not top five. I can’t negotiate the emotional scarring that comes with that.”

Ha. So, it’s out there. Thisisa first date. An official, verbally committed first date between them. Hashtag relationship goals.

“Hmm.” Wes chews, thinking.

Cinnamon-sugar dusts Nico’s upper lip.

“Not lame at all,” Wes says after swallowing. He passes Nico a napkin. “This is good.”

It’s better than that. Wes is finally on a date with Nico. Except for a grainy, sandy mouth, this is better than anything suggested by PopSugar.

They watch the city bloom into a nighttime circus: neon lights and noise and laughter for miles. Wes deliberately stands close to Nico; their elbows brush as they eat. He runs back to the food truck to buy them frozen lemonades.

When he returns, Nico has his phone in one hand. “I forgot to show you my newest Pinterest find.”

Wes leans close, squinting against the screen’s bright light. The image is black text against a plain white background. Wes inhales so quickly, his lungs ache. He reads over and over.

“I only want two things in this world. I want you. And I want us.”

“Do you like it?”

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