Page 95 of The Summer of Everything

“Wes,” Lucas says carefully. “Are you gonna…?”

Wes stops thinking. He’s through absorbing Nico’s stares and trying to decipher what they mean. He’s exhausted from waiting for someone to save his sorry ass from the fire-breathing dragon.

He runs.

Colorado Avenue is clogged with tourists moving away from the pier. He gets more than a few looks at his Green Lantern costume, but he doesn’t care.

He runs faster.

Families are bottlenecking into a local McDonald’s. Some girl is strolling leisurely while texting without any consideration for other pedestrians. Breathless, Wes dodges, one foot in the street, where an oncoming car nearly finishes him. He hops back on the curb in time to cut a corner and catch up to Manu.

“Wait!”

Manu spins around, hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders stiff. His mouth’s a thin, nondescript line. But hurt and disappointment shadow his eyes.

“Please,” Wes heaves. “Wait.”

Obnoxiously thick, gray clouds hang low in the sky. The air’s already dense with the metallic, earthy smell of rain. Headlights from passing cars pop on, briefly blinding Wes. The first few drops dot the pavement outside the parking garage they’re standing in front of.

“Wait for what?” Manu asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Wes gasps. If he’d had three more minutes, he could’ve pulled out his phone and typed up a quick list before running all the way here:

Top 5 Reasons Manuia Is the One.

But he didn’t have time. Honestly, he doesn’t know if there are five reasons. More importantly, does he need more than one?

You’re not Nico.

At a certain age, crushes stop being fun. They stop being these things that people secretly write about in diaries or online journals or in their next great fanfic story. Crushes become this damning thing: the ultimate hill one must climb. Because once someone gets over a crush, they can see what’s on the other side.

Thing is, maybe there’s nothing there. Maybe life truly is just aChoose Your Own Adventureand picking the wrong next step is the only way to get somewhere. Anywhere.

Wes is stuck between an amazing guy in front of him and an old crush behind him.

“I get it,” Manu says, sighing. He brushes a hand over his hair again. “No hard feelings. It’s cool.”

“It’s not,” Wes finally wobbles out.

“But it is,” Manu says, smiling sadly. “Not to lay on the inspirational quote of the day from a Zen IG account or anything, but: ‘The heart wants what it wants.’ Hashtag Emily Dickinson.”

For a second, Wes imagines Nico liking that quote on Pinterest. Then he hates himself.

Manu steps forward. “Listen,” he says, sincere.

Wes tries to. Rain splats on his cheek, his eyelashes. It tags his costume as if the sky is playing a game of paintball and winning. Wes’s chest heaves, betraying him, as Manu’s hand touches his cheek.

“At some point, you get over someone.” That sadness edging Manu’s mouth almost reaches his eyes. “But I hope you don’t miss out on the rest of the world waiting for that to happen.”

Wes shivers. Manu’s thumb brushes rain from just under his right eye. Except, Wes isn’t certain that precipitation is what’s wetting his cheeks.

“Call me, if—” Manu pauses, shaking his head. “Wait, we didn’t exchange numbers.”

It’s a depressing reality Wes hadn’t realized. He never bothered to ask for Manu’s number so they could communicate like real people instead of two online entities sharing metadata and likes. This was never going anywhere.

“DM me if things change,” Manu finally says.

“Okay,” Wes says, hoarsely, fighting off that tremble in his voice. He inhales the scent of summer’s first storm.

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