Page 80 of The Summer of Everything

“Okay, Anne Hathaway, move,” Kyra says, bumping Ella out of the way to get behind the counter. “I need to set all this up and then grab the coffees.”

Wes vacates his space for Anna and Kyra.

“Coop. Buddy. Homie.” Zay unfolds chairs near their mock-stage. “A little help?”

Cooper abandons his bongos. Ella whispers, “If he plays those while doing slam poetry, I’m out.”

Wes chuckles into the crook of his elbow.

“Also, what is this sad-fest playing?” She glares at the ceiling. “Is this supposed to entice anyone to want to come in here tonight?”

“It’s R.E.M.,” Wes replies, humming along.

“R-E-what?”

“R.E.M.,” he repeats. He scored a copy ofAutomatic for the Peopleburied in the CD bin. This album’s his alt-rock manifesto.

Ella’s face scrunches. “Is that some kind of sleep disorder?”

“The fact that you can recite every lyric to any Fall Out Boy album but don’t know R.E.M. is an injustice,” says Wes.

“Give it up, El,” Zay suggests, lining up the chairs after Cooper unfolds them. “He’s a lost cause.”

“I like it,” Cooper announces, crooning along to “Everybody Hurts.”

“Point proven,” Ella says. “None of this boo-hoo trash will be played during our speed booking event.”

The logistical nightmare of trying to coordinate Ella’s speed booking date night is Wes’s least favorite topic. At least Kyra’s on board with helping to host the event:

“As this community’s resident Black lesbian, I can’t let this function happen without some true queer rep,” she said last week. “This will not turn into one of those ‘Straights Only’ romcoms.”

On the positive side—Ella’s charging reasonable prices and Once Upon a Page’s social media posts about it get the most likes.

“Which reminds me,” Ella says surreptitiously, eyeing Wes. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh.” Wes had other plans, like laundry or watching that baking competition on Netflix. “No?”

“Oh, yes you are,” says Ella, arms crossed. “We’re putting you on the market.”

“We are not,” Wes says, appalled.

“It’s happening. It’s time.”

“Time for what? I’m cool. I’m content. I’m—”

“Hung up on someone, submerged in insecurity issues created by the complex fear that rejection by something you desire most might confirm all the flaws you’ve predetermined about yourself?” Ella says, eyebrow raised, daring Wes to disagree.

He can’t.

“Doctor Ella Graham, calling you out on your bullshit since the Mesozoic Era,” Zay says.

“By the way,” Ella stands on her toes looking around the bookstore. “Where’s Nico?”

Wes, too caught up in trying not to lose an eye, hadn’t noticed Nico’s not at the store yet. Then again, he’s still on his‘I’m moving on from this crush, just not today, maybe tomorrow’bullshit, so he hasn’t been searching for him either.

He checks his phone. No texts. No missed calls.

“Uh.” Zay tugs a hand through his thick hair. When Wes looks at him, his eyes drop.

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