I close my binder and look up. “Hey. All done?”
Bowie nods. They’re in an orange UT hoodie, with matching burnt-orange eyeshadow. Their nails are a midnight blue, with electric-blue marbling and glitter (sealed in, so it’s not dangerous).
I stuff my notebook into my backpack and stand. “Where was Cheyenne this time?”
“Out sick. Braden thinks it’s a mental health day, but my money is on senioritis.”
I snort and follow them to their car. The afternoon smells of spring rain and warmer days.
“We haven’t done this in a while,” I say once I’m buckled. Between rehearsals, and TJ’s with Liam—or, lately, his mom’s house when she’s gone—plus swimming lessons on the weekends, not to mention the usual piles of homework we get, I’ve been super busy.
“Liam wasn’t free?”
“Yeah. He’s got dinner with his dad, so you know how that goes.”
“I do know.” But I’ve missed something. Bowie’s face is carefully neutral, but their signs are more clipped than usual.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Bowie shakes their head.
“Are you mad at me for something?”
“You really have to ask that?” Bowie sighs. “When was the last time we actually hung out?”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, with Liam. I’ve noticed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s been two months of this and you only want to hang out with me when he’s not available. You know how that makes me feel?”
I want to open the car door and throw up. Because I know exactly how it feels. Dr. L does it to me all the time. She did it to me just this afternoon. Again.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I swallow down my guilt. “And thank you. You want to hang out?”
Bowie rolls their eyes. “Can’t tonight.”
“But I thought—”
“I wasn’t fishing to hang out with you. I’m actually busy. I do have a life outside of carting your carcass around.”
“Sorry.” I know they do. “I miss you is all.”
“I miss you too,” they finally say. “Even when you’re being a butt.”
“That’s fair.” I start to bite my lip but quickly stop. Now that I’ve got a boyfriend, I need to keep my lips in better shape. “I really like him, Bowie.”
“I can tell.”
“I think I’m in love with him.”
I don’t even think it. I know it. But it feels too huge to say with certainty.
“Wow.” Bowie takes a deep breath. “Have you told Jasmine yet?”
I sigh. “No. I’m still working on it.”
