Page 29 of The Summer of Everything

Nico and Anna?

Nico and Anna!

He’s been back for less than two weeks and Wes’s never noticed this. But he was gone a month and, well, that’s a long time. People fall in love in less than twenty-four hours—at least that’s what Reddit has taught him—so how could he not expect Nico to possibly find someone other than him to be interested in? How could he expect Nico to be interested inhimat all, since he’s never said anything?

A cold hand tightens around Wes’s heart. An ache throbs behind his right eye. His hands tremble. Is he breathing? He thinks so. But his stomach’s so knotted, he’s not sure he’s inhaling properly.

Anna and Nico. Nico and Anna. AnnaNico.

Eyes closed, Wes braces one palm flat on the counter.

Just breathe. Just breathe.

“Here.”

Wes blinks one eye open. Ella waves a sheet of paper in his face from across the counter. Despite his current state, it’s not an advertisement for a shady clinic that specializes in possible heart defects and therapy for crush-related anxieties.

“What’s this?” he asks, scanning the paper. His vision finally recalibrates. It’s an email addressed to Mrs. Rossi. There are a lot of bold and italicized words.

He snatches it from Ella’s loose grip.

“What is this?”

Ella clears her throat. “A month ago, I found this while cleaning Mrs. Rossi’s office—”

“You were snooping,” Wes accuses.

“Technicalities.”

“No. Invasion of privacy.”

Ella ignores his claims. “Read it, Wes.”

He does. Wes reads it once, then again. He reads until all the words start to make sense. His eyes refuse to leave one section of the email:

“…due to the lack of profitable revenue delaying timely property payments, the Tea Leaf and Coffee Cup House is extending an offer to settle all properties and rights listed in the current proprietor’s contract in order to renovate the existing space into a brand-new expansion of our current super-licious franchise…”

Wes pieces together a few key points: One, Mrs. Rossi is behind on property payments for the bookstore. Two, some first-grader-named coffeehouse franchise wants to buy her out. Three, the aforementioned coffeehouse really needs to terminate their promotions consultant because “super-licious” is not a word and poor marketing. And finally, this place, his childhood home, the space he’s felt most himself, is going to be shut down. Permanently.

“This can’t be right,” he whispers.

“It’s right there in writing.” Ella stabs her index finger at the paper. Her nails are painted dark purple. Wes has no clue why he focuses on that, other than the fact that he needs a distraction from an impending meltdown.

“What’s up?” Zay asks between bites of burger.

Ella seizes the paper back from Wes and thrusts it at Zay. “Read and tell boy genius over here what it means.”

Zay studies the email with squinted eyes. Over his shoulder, Cooper reads too.

Wes’s palms are sweaty. His heart beats at an odd rhythm.

Thump. Pause,thumpthump. Doublethump, pause.

Sweat dribbles down Wes’s temple. His throat’s dry. He reaches for the tea, but his hand’s shaking; his vision is blurred by a thin wall of dampness.

Wes will not cry. He’s anadult. Managing situations like this is a part of growing up.

“Looks legit,” Zay says, frowning.

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