Page 99 of The Summer of Everything

Hedoesn’ttalk about college.

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes.”

He does, right? Does it matter if he’s having second, third, or fourth thoughts about it? All the paperwork is done. He’s been assigned a roommate—it’s in his email. His parents return next week, which means it’ll be a mad dash to get supplies, clothes, boxes, maybe a new laptop.

He’s going. Right?

Wes scratches his scruffy chin. “I mean, I’m doing it.”

Cooper rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I got up this morning at six a.m. to walk the dog. Doesn’t mean I wanted to.”

“But that’s different,” Wes argues.

“Is it?”

“It’s optional,” Wes chokes out.

“So, is college.”

Well, duh. Wes knows that. There’s such a thing as a gap year. Or not going at all. Wes thinks saving himself and his parents thousands and thousands of dollars in tuition would be the most selfless win ever. But… is that an option forhim?

Keys jiggle in the front door. Wes can hear laughter. And then Ella and Anna walk into the loft. They’re the perfect counterparts: Anna in an off-the-shoulder peasant dress as pale yellow as her hair; Ella in a black T-shirt and jeans, her dark nails cradling a cup of black iced coffee.

Wes tries to remain perfectly still, as if they’re dinosaurs who can only visually track their prey with movement. It doesn’t work.

“Sup, Scott Pilgrim and Brutus,” says Ella, dropping her keys on the coffee table before crossing over to sit next to Cooper. Anna follows, waving.

“Wait. Which one am I?” Cooper asks.

But, despite the Michael Cera reference, Wes already knows he’s Brutus. He’s a traitor.

“Hi,” he says quietly to Anna. Then he waves at Ella.

She slurps her iced coffee loudly, eyes narrowed.

He deserves her frosty glare. Neither of them have extended an olive branch, but Wes knows he should be the one apologizing. He hasn’t quite figured out the opening act for his Wes Is a Screwup world tour. First stop: Ellaville, California.

“What’re you two up to?” Anna asks, riffling through the cheese puffs while looking around the room.

This is the first time she’s been to the loft. Cooper too. Wes’s never invited any of his friends over other than Nico. Even Ella took at least a summer before Wes admitted where he lived. He’s always kept this unconscious barrier between himself and the people he likes.

“Nothing,” replies Wes. Ella continues to burn a hole through his skull with her eyes.

Cooper clears his throat. “We’re discussing the future. Specifically, the future of Wes Hudson, son of the great Savannah Kirk.”

“Perfect timing then.” Ella smirks at Wes.

His head cocks so far to the right, it almost detaches from his neck. “Is it?”

Ella nods, finishing her iced coffee.

He squints at Cooper. Then Anna. Wes studies each of them, suspicious, before he asks, “Is this my intervention? Was this planned?”

He’s spent copious amounts of time on YouTube, scanning through suggested videos when business has been slow at the bookstore. Wes knows that when someone’s friends—even the ones who currently hate them— “unexpectedly” turn up for a group conversation about that person, it’s a sign they’re going to rehab.

“No,” Cooper says as Anna declares, “Yes!”

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