Page 39 of Love Felt Like This

“Not yet.”

“I can’t believe he’s coming here,” Rob breathes, flicking through his phone. “Griffin Harvey is so cool. Is he friends with Beau? Were y’all hanging out or something? It looks like you were talking in this photo and—”

“Let me see that,” Nana says, holding out her palm. Rob passes his phone to her, and then she drops it in the cupholder up front.

“Nana!” he yelps.

Only my parents, Nana, and Uncle Greg know the gritty details of Beau’s and my breakup two years ago. Rob heard things at school due to the viral video, but the clip was so out of context and contradictory to his image of Beau that I think it only confused him. Rob’s only talked to me about it once.

“Are you still friends?” he asked. His worried twelve-year-old eyes killed me.

“We’ll always be some sort of friends,” I answered.

Beau was the brother Rob never had, leaving him almost as heartbroken as me. As a family, we try not to trash Beau in front of Rob, but we do change the subject often.

“Nana’s right,” Dad says from the front seat. “Let’s be more present, son. Now, Bev, tell us all about the show and your plans.”

I dive into the details of my pitch process. I tell them about the research I’ll need to do, the new scripts I’ll need to write, and how Griffin will be making the music.

Eventually, Rob leans in again. “So how close are you with Griffin Harvey? I know he’s not your actual boyfriend…right?”

“That was just for the press,” I confirm. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Good,” he says.

I laugh. “Good?”

“He’s just so much cooler than you.”

I gasp and playfully reach behind to push his knee. He’s not exactly wrong, though.

“Well, I think you’re the coolest cat in Elk Grove, sugar,” Dad says, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“But Griffin Harvey’s here now,” Rob counters.

“And he’s not cooler than your sister.”

“Can we just treat him like a normal person?” I ask, holding up my hands.

“Yes,” Nana responds. “We will welcome him with a smile on our faces and dinner on our table.”

My cheeks heat. “Oh, I don’t think he needs to be with us for dinner or anything.”

I can only imagine Griffin hearing Uncle Greg’s dissertation on how the US imports bananas or enduring Rob’s questions about his next album.

“Yes, he’s coming to dinner,” Nana argues. “While he’s in town, he’s family.”

Dad smiles. “Your boyfriend is moving into town, and we don’t give him dinner? What a scandal.”

“Dad,” I groan.

Rob leans in. “So, like, what’s his real name?”

I shrug. “Griffin?”

“No, his real name,” Rob says, “ ‘Griffin Harvey’ has gotta be fake, right? Like a stage name?”