Page 56 of The Summer of Everything

Three weeks before prom, in the middle of the senior hallway, most of Santa Monica High’s marching band came stomping through before the start of homeroom. They were performing, of all songs, Jason Mraz’s sickeningly sweet “I’m Yours.” And there was Nico in a white T-shirt with Wes’s fifth-grade class photo on it, in front of the band, holding five shiny gold mylar balloons spelling: P-R-O-M-?

It was mortifying and hysterical and every level of epic.

“Your family was really cool about you coming out,” Nico continues.

“My dad baked a cake with rainbow sprinkles!” But that wasn’t as bad as Savannah crying for a solid ten minutes after Wes came out. He knows he didn’t have to. He could’ve easily gone to prom with Nico as friends. Theydidgo as friends, but Wes knew it was time. Nico had built this bridge that finally allowed Wes to meet his family in the middle.

“Leo’s reaction was the best,” Nico reminds him.

“Because everybody wants to come out to their older brother and get a punch in the shoulder as a welcome.”

Nico almost falls off his board laughing.

Wes pulls at his earlobe. “You looked great that night.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Wes’s has never said it, but standing in his pre-cranberry-juice-stained tux next to Nico, who looked like a twenty-first century Richie Valens with his white jacket, blood red tuxedo shirt, and a few locks of curly hair falling from his perfectly styled pompadour, was major.

“Ugh.” Nico scrunches his face. “But Chainsmokers, man.”

“Chainsmokers,” Wes repeats, groaning.

When the DJ called for the last dance, Nico took Wes’s hand, spun him around and then they shuffled under the spotlight to a forgettable Chainsmokers song.

It never seemed to bother Nico that, shortly after prom, students thought he was gay too. Those rumors quickly died when Nico kissed Tabby Gomez at a graduation party, but still. He never let the jokes embarrass him. It was as if he’d been happy to be called Wes’s boyfriend.

Wes likes to hold on to that delusional dream.

They’re less than a mile from Once Upon a Page when Nico says, “¡Tienes una sonrisa muy bonita!”

After all these years around the Alvarez family, Wes’s Spanish is still very limited. He has no clue what Nico said, but he loves the way Nico looks at him afterward.

A shrill beep rings from Wes’s back pocket. He tugs out his phone. His alarm is going off with a reminder: TELL HIM!!!

Wes hesitates. This isn’t the ideal setting BuzzFeed advised him about. He’s sticky with sweat and not wearing his lucky T-shirt.Teen Voguewould be disappointed that Wes hasn’t organized a flash mob or at least a marching band to accompany him but that’s fine.

He just needs to do it.

Wes just needs to…

“Watch your step, Wesley!”

On cue, Wes trips on a crack in the pavement and repeats his epic face-plant from last night. In the distance, he can hear Nico cracking up.

Obviously, today’snotthe day.

Chapter Thirteen

Wes doesn’t care how anybodyspins it: Physical Education sucked. Four mandatory semesters of sweat and team building activities like dodgeball just to graduate? Hell no.

But there was one positive to his gym experience: long-distance running. He was freaking boss at that.

Running always gave him a clear head.

Ella’s still snoring in Leo’s bedroom when Wes slips on a pair of red Pumas. He tugs on a loose tank top with palm tree designs on it, and an old pair of Santa Monica High gym shorts. Earbuds in, Wes jogs down Ocean Avenue.

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