"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna need you to sit me down and walk me through your trauma because this plotline is out of control."
I wipe my hands on my shorts and sit back down on the step, still staring at the phone. "Okay…anyway. After all that, we came back here." I gesture vaguely behind me. "To Gio's place. As you can see."
Noah narrows his eyes. "Wait wait wait…you went through all that emotional warfare, and then what? You came back and have the 'I'm proud of you' sex?"
I blink. Lean closer to the screen. "On. The freaking. Bike."
His eyes go wide. "Deadass?"
I nod solemnly. "Deadass."
There is a beat of silence.
"…You absolute slut. You unhinged, glorious, filthy animal. You had swing-set confessions and then got railed on a Ducati? Whoareyou?!"
"Shut up."
"Railed by Gio, king of brooding sexual tension, on his bike, like this is some gay Fast & Furious sequel?!"
I cover my face with my hand. "Jesus Christ," he mutters, not even loud. "I need holy water. I need a priest. I need to disinfect my brain and also frame this moment."
I am wheezing. "And excuse me," he continues, "do I get an award or what?"
"What?"
He points at the screen like I'm forgetting the sacred origin story. "I was the one who told you to make a move! Me! I was out here planting seeds like some chaotic gay Cupid, and look at you now. In love. Getting bike-fucked."
"Oh my God—"
"No, no, don't you dare downplay this. I deserve a plaque. A medal. One of those sashes that says Matchmaker of the Year."
"You're unbelievable."
"You know what's unbelievable? That you didn't jump him sooner." I sigh, still grinning. "I should've known you'd milk this forever."
"Oh, baby," he says, leaning in close to the camera. "I'mneverletting it go."
I blink at the screen. "Noah, thank you. I mean it."
He smiles. He pauses for a breath, and I clear my throat.
"Oh—yeah. The Master's program called." Silence.
"Oh,"
I can hear the chair creak as he sits up straighter.
"They called you?"
"Yeah. I got offered a full scholarship. They want an answer. Soon."
"Bro. What is this life you're living? I don't even know if I can keep up with your life right now. I feel like I'm watching a limited series. With cliffhangers. And trauma. And a hot lead."
I grin. "You're being dramatic."
"You're being main character and I'm just trying to get a recap every four hours so I don't emotionally combust."
