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“You were ravaging me in your sleep.” And then you said “Good morning” to my dad?

“Mmm, you have no idea.” She tried to wink, but just… slow-blinked both eyes like a sloth. Too much muscle control required. “I was literally ravaging you in my dreams right before you woke me up.”

I knew Lou was a flirt, but teasing a guy you knew had a thing for you—especially one you just turned down—by saying you’d been having a sex dream about him? It was more than a little tone-deaf.

“Don’t,” I said to her, removing my arm from under her head and getting to my feet. I needed some space from her to get my head right.

She looked chastened. “Shit. I’m sorry, Will. That was not cool.”

I fished around in my jacket pocket for the pack of cigarettes I bought last night and placed one between my lips, looking down at her, lost in the pile of blankets. “I’m not as good of a guy as Hasan, Louisa.” She understood I wasn’t looking for reassurance—just stating a fact.

I lit up as I ducked through the doorway and scanned the woods for children before unzipping my fly and taking a long piss off the treehouse balcony.

Lou leaned against the doorframe, eyes on my back.

“Do we need to fight it out?” she asked.

I scoffed. “No.” I took a drag and leaned against the railing, watching the smoke swirl away. “I’m not mad at you. You haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m a big boy. I just don’t want to be yanked around either.”

“That’s fair, but maybe I’m mad at you.”

“Are you?” She was full of shit.

“No. I had a lot of fun with you last night.”

“Same,” I said with a small smile, but it almost felt worse to know.

Stubbing out my cigarette, I swung my jacket over one shoulder and held out my hand to help her onto the ladder. “Ladies first.”

12

Dreadballs & Dreams

The Bronx, NY

Louisa

I’d been carrying around this ball of dread in my stomach ever since Hassi and Will went back to Boston, and I couldn’t figure out how to shake it. They’d left earlier than planned after one of Will’s sisters called him, asking for help with a school project, allegedly, and things felt unsettled without them.

Has said Will was just busy with midterms, but we hadn’t spoken at all since he left New York, which was odd for us. I knew Will was avoiding me, but I didn’t feel like I had the right to demand his attention. I didn’t think he was trying to punish me, just creating distance, which was fair. But since I didn’t want distance from him, it felt like punishment. Consequences that I wasn’t prepared to hate so much.

But Has and I were keeping our regular hours, and maybe it was just getting harder being away from my person. I wasn’t sure what Will had told Hasan about what happened between us. I didn’t want to ask because I knew he was still worried about Has’s feelings for whatever reason—it felt like I’d be breaking his confidence if I said anything to Has about it—but I needed a friend’s opinion.

“So you’re saying you guys had what sounds like a fucking adorable night together. He told you that if Has wasn’t in the picture, he’d want to be with you. And you shut him down… but with a sexy kiss?”

“Yes?”

“Then you slept with your arms around him, dreamt about fucking him, and tried to tease him about it in the morning like that’s not kinda cold?”

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I called Southie sweetheart Christian Ortiz, but it was not this WWE SmackDown-level suplex of calling-me-on-my-shit.

“God, Christian, it sounds fucking awful when you say it like that.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, mi amiga. Hawkins is my brother, and I don’t care that you’re cool otherwise. Don’t come for my boy…”

“I’m not coming⁠—”

“Let’s ask Marisol, hang on—¡Gorditaaa!” he yelled away from the phone for his wife. In the background, I heard Marisol tell him to get fucked. I loved her.