Page 31 of The Summer of Everything

Instead, he says, “Give me some space, Nico. Damn. I’m fine.”

It’s the biggest lie he’s ever told Nico, but Wes is so done.

Chapter Eight

A quick but frantic Googlesearch on his phone informs Wes that he’s either just survived a heart attack, acid reflux, or a possible panic attack. Further research on WebMD and a brief YouTube tutorial eliminate the first two ailments.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He’s been reciting this to himself for three minutes, eyes closed. It’s helped, though his brain is still a little fuzzy. And, unfortunately, the bathroom is wearing its favorite perfume—eau de bleach.

Of all the places to hide, Wes isn’t sure why he chose Once Upon a Page’s crib-sized bathroom. He didn’t think he could make it upstairs to the loft. It is the closest room except Mrs. Rossi’s office, and Wes isn’t going in there. What if he found something else? What other ugly, life-altering secrets was she hiding from him?

That underwater sensation returns. Blinking hard, he stares down at his phone.

Find an object to focus on.

The bookstore’s sad bathroom doesn’t have much in the way of decor. There’s a sink, a mirror with a zigzag crack in the bottom right corner, one of those tropical-scent wall plug-ins that hasn’t been changed in a year, flyers for previous store events, and the standard toilet with the lid down where Wes sits. Oh, and a faded blue poster ofThe Great Gatsbycover: depressing, disembodied eyes staring at Wes. He hates that book. He also hates Chaz, the former employee who pinned it to the mint green wall. Chaz, the clinical kleptomaniac who only stole nude photography books.

Pervy hipster.

Wes focuses on a bottom corner of the poster. It’s beginning to curl like a Fruit Roll-Up. That corner’s a rebel.

His phone directs him to:Go to your happy place.

Yeah, sorry Google, but Wes’s “happy place” is now officially a gateway to hell.

Breathing deeply, Wes tries to locate somewhere else in his clogged brain, another place he’s most himself. Every answer ends in Nico. Anywhere with him, having conversations with their eyes and laughing until it hurts.

Does he have that with Anna?

Wes finds himself on Google again. His hands shake as he searches “ways to know if your crush is not into you.” What is he doing? Suddenly, he’s on BuzzFeed, then Teen Vogue. He’s browsing Reddit Relationship Advice. Wes finally draws the line at Quora, but not before he’s compiled a new list:

Signs Your Crush Isn’t Into You!!!

It’s not his best work. There are only five bullet points, and Wes is already frowning at the first one:

1. If your crush doesn’t laugh at your jokes, RUN!

It doesn’t apply to Wes and Nico, but multiple sources suggest he pay attention to minor things like that.

The bathroom door nudges open. Wes forgot to lock it. And Anna isn’t polite enough toknock, but she doesn’t swing the door wide. She peeks her head in, ensuring Wes isn’t using the toilet for its intended purposes.

Wes sighs, which is obviously an invitation Anna uses to enter, closing the door behind her. She leans against it. Wes pointedly stares at the wall adjacent to her.

“So.”

“Yeah?” Wes sighs again.

“That was quite the exit.”

Wes nods solemnly. He doesn’t feel so bad about storming off, but more about the way he snapped at Nico. It was a definite infraction of the best friend code. Thing is, that’s a direct result of crushing on a friend. The lines get blurred.

He’s a horrible human being.

Correction: he’s a horrible human presently trapped in a tiny bathroom with his crush’s crush.

Wes’s brain, ever ready to take a dive into a pit of fire, zones in on how cute Anna is. She’s a surf goddess, all seashell bracelets and floral wrap dress and hair unbrushed without appearing dirty. Even the bathroom’s substandard lighting fails to wash out the color in her cheeks or the blueness of her eyes.

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