but I’d always been too stuck inside myself to interrogate him. Slowly, the conversation sputtered.
We started talking to each other like people who used to be close—catching each other up on our lives rather than living them together.
By the time he paid the bill, I knew that whatever we’d been, we weren’t anymore.
Still, once I was home and under the covers, I texted him. You around?
You can’t do it the other way, he replied. And I can’t do it this way.
Me: Why? Him: It makes me feel like you only like me at a distance. I need to be liked close up.
I kept typing and deleting, typing and deleting. I never ended up replying.
The next day at school, I was walking across the cafeteria to our lunch table when I was intercepted by Daisy.
“Holmesy, we have to talk privately.” She sat me down at a mostly empty lunch table, a few seats away from some freshmen.
“Did you break up with Mychal again?” “No, of course not. The magic of being Just Friends is that you can’t break up.
I feel like I’ve unlocked the secret of the universe with this Just Friends thing.
But no, we’re going on an adventure.” “We are?” “Do you feel like you’ve recovered your wits enough that you could, for instance,”
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