“Right.”I got that big smile again.He was fumbling with the straps of his backpack.A flush rode under the olive tone of his cheeks.“Thanks.”
“What’s up?”
“So, um, remember that story I gave you at the beginning of the semester, ‘Broomings?’”He plunged ahead like he was afraid to wait for a reply.“Well, I sent it to thePawcatuck Review, and they asked me to revise and resubmit.”He said it like he’d won the lottery—which, to be fair, was how I’d felt the couple of times I’d managed to sell a short story.
“Andrew, that’s amazing!Congratulations!”
His face lit up, but he mumbled, “It’s not like they bought it—”
“Nope.None of that.This is a big deal—it means they like it; they just want you to show them you can take it to where they want it.You should be proud of yourself.This is huge!”
For a few moments, he made incoherent noises that still managed to be surprisingly cute—a lot of ums and yeahs and vocalizations.Finally he got around to “So, um, I was wondering if you could help me.Revise it, I mean.Not if it’s too much trouble.And not if you don’t want to.And not if—”
“I’d love to,” I said through a laugh.“Really, Andrew.It’d be an honor.”
I noticed, for the first time, that he had a dimple when he smiled.“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Okay, well, I know this fire coffee shop that just opened, and they have the best pour-over you’ve ever tasted, and, like, if we get hungry, there’s this little Thai place next door—”
“Hey.”Hugo’s voice was a little too loud.“There you are.”
I turned in time to see Hugo already leaning in for a kiss.My mind went blank, and my body froze.Hugo pressed his lips to mine and stayed there, lingering, the kiss getting longer and longer.When I finally recovered enough to pull back, he wore a grin.
“Is everything okay?”Hugo asked.“You weren’t answering my texts.I got worried.”
“Mr.Dane?”Andrew said.
“Mr.Dane,” Hugo said with a little laugh.“That’s so cute.”
“Everything’s fine.”I directed the words between them.Then, in a lower voice, I said to Hugo, “I was in class.”
“Oh shoot.I forgot your schedule changed.”
We’re twelve weeks into the semester, I almost said.My schedule hasn’t changed since January.
But I didn’t.
“I was wondering,” Hugo said without missing a beat, “if you wanted to grab a late lunch.”
“Actually,” Andrew said, “we were about to get coffee.”
Hugo didn’t say anything.He looked at Andrew, and Andrew stared back, and then Hugo put his hand around my elbow and said, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
Under the shade of an oak that was just leafing out, he said in a low voice, “I don’t want you spending time with that kid outside of class.”
“Wait a minute, Andrew just got a revise and resubmit—”
“And he’s obsessed with you.”Hugo spun a finger next to his temple.“Psycho.You don’t want to put yourself in a situation where something could go wrong.”
“I would never—”
“I know.”He squeezed my arm and smiled.“I know, dummy.But what if he said you did?You’ve got to think about that stuff.About how things look.You’ve got to be careful—there are a lot of crazies out there.”
For a moment, the thought came to me: how did you know where I was?How did you find me if you’d forgotten my schedule had changed?
“See?”he murmured, brushing my hair back and giving me that boyish grin again.“This is why I have to worry about you.”
