Page 38 of Okay, Cupid

“Wow, major dick behavior.”

“Yeah.” I add a little wetness behind the eyes, just to sell the story. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood or whatever. I guess I’m still hung up on him.”

“No, you’re good.” She puts a hand on my knee. “Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s been through that.”

Bingo.

“Boys really fucking suck sometimes.” I sniffle, wiping at my nose with my sleeve, and Alice laughs. Another crack in the wall.

“Preaching to the choir, Jude.”

“I’m guessing that you and Huy … ?” I pause, letting her take it from here.

“Yeah, kind of. In that way that you ‘date’ during eighth grade. Like kisses on the cheek, holding hands in the hallway. But I thought I was in love with him.” She huffs. “And then, over the summer, he basically disappeared. When I saw him again, he was totally different. He’d come out, started dressing differently, binding his chest, and he cut his hair. Which is fine, it’s great. He didn’t owe me a coming out, but I just felt … I dunno, blindsided.”

Then she laughs.

“And I’m sure I’m getting all the sympathy in the world from you right now. Poor little cis girl whines about her trans friend coming out because I’m the center of attention, right?”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first,” I say. But at least she’s self-aware. I get it; these feelings are complicated to say the least.

“As I said, he didn’t owe me anything, but I thought we were closer than that. But … I wasn’t angry at him. I was happy, despite it all. Still, he totally ghosted me, ignored my texts and calls for weeks. And one time when I went to the Trinhs’ shop to confront him, he just hid in the back.”

“Ouch.”

“He was still posting on Instagram and TikTok, and I saw him making new friends. It made me realize that I’m not good enough for him. At least, from his perspective.”

I don’t know what to say to any of this. I’m shocked that someone who seems as nice as Huy could do that to her. Then again, I’ve known Huy for a week, and she’s known him for years.

“I’m sorry, Alice.”

“It would’ve been easier if we’d had a fight,” she says sadly. “If one of us had done something to make us hate the other. But it just happened.” There’s a quiet to her voice. “It’s so stupid too because it was middle school. Like no relationship in middle school is real.”

I can’t really attest to that.

“But he was my best friend. We literally met in kindergarten. We went to the same church. Our families always celebrated Tết together, and Christmas, and suffered through those all-day Masses that we had to drive all the way down to San Jose to attend.”

“I know that advice might not be what you’re looking for right now, but can I say something?”

“Sure, go for it.” Alice relaxes, falling back toward me. Our shoulders touch, but since she doesn’t move, I assume it’s okay.

“Did you ever talk to him about it?”

“No,” she tells me. “And the funny thing is, I don’t really know what I’d ask him. Or how I’d ask it.”

“He might’ve had a reason for everything. Not that it makes it better, but …”

“I know it was a hard time for him, with everything going on. I just wish he’d been honest.” She starts to pick at the holes in her jeans, pulling the light blue thread of denim free and balling it between her fingers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this all on you.”

“No, no. It’s okay,” I promise her. “I guess we’re both not over it.”

“Boys fucking suck.” Alice stands, wiping at her eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” She looks at me, and then at the bag in my hand. “Are you going to eat that?”

“The donut?”