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“I figured it out when she won that big award. Her caseworker called her ‘Isa.’”

His face said Why didn’t you tell me? But his voice asked, “Does she remember you?”

“Ah, no. Well, I haven’t asked her.” I looked at her over the rim of my glass. Hair in a messy bun on her head. “She’s not exactly subtle, Christian. I think she would have brought it up by now if she did.”

She would’ve never shut up about our friendmistry.

Wiser to ask than to guess, my boy.

Christian Ortiz looked like he had something he wanted to say, and he was thinking hard before he said it. Odds were good I’d leave The Swan Dive little fucked up in more ways than one.

He leaned over, elbows on the bar in front of him, but his voice was gentle when he asked, “You ever think maybe your old man sent her?”

His words struck me in the sternum like a lead weight.

Yes. I wondered that night. I’ve asked him every day since I found her again.

Dad would have loved the idea of being an angel and sending me a woman to rock my fucking world.

Do ye reckon they’ve knickers on under them robes, or are we all just a glance too high from regret? I’ll let ye know when I get there, Liam.

“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’d do it just to test my mettle as a man.” He would, but only because he believed I had it.

I’d have to mention the robe thing to Mom.

Christian leaned back, not taking his eyes off me. “I hear you, brother. And I respect you.” He tapped his foot against mine. “Usually.”

We joined the rest of the crew for a few rounds. The bar was practically empty on a Sunday night, aside from our group. At some point Hasan, Rachel, and Jaimie had all joined us, laughing and genuinely getting along, and Louisa’s whole body was buzzing from secondhand friendmistry—her words, not mine. I was happy for her, but I was also sick of her shit.

I leaned in, lips at her ear. “You’ve used the word ‘friendmistry’ four times in this conversation alone. It’s officially under moratorium for sounding stupid as fuck.”

She shot me a shocked expression. “Considering our top-tier friendmistry, you’d think you’d know not to challenge me like this.” She sighed heavily. “Now we’ll both be paying for it.… Hey Christian! What do you call the chemistry between friends?”

20

The Morning After

Boston, MA

Louisa

Oh fucking hell. My head was pounding, and my tongue felt like I’d spent last night licking carpet. It took me a full minute to realize we were at my new place, a curtained-off section of the studio I’m sharing with Rachel. It was cold as fuck in the room, but warm inside the blankets where we snuggled tight. Were we on the floor? Yes.

I grabbed my phone and saw a text from a number I didn’t recognize.

Unknown Number

You have fun last night, bitch?

Ugh. What the fuck? I turned over to show Hasan, but it was Will wrapped around me. Squee! The comforting weight that had felt like friendmistry just seconds ago—when I assumed it was Hasan—was ripped away to reveal a whole page in my brain covered in heart doodles and “Louisa May Hawkins” in looping script. Who wrote that shit?

I looked at his sleeping face, a soft smile spreading⁠—

I sat up straight and really looked, grinning maniacally.

Will had drag queen eyebrows drawn over his real ones, and this hilariously flaccid, sad penis right on his cheek. Like, it had a sad face and everything.

It was a goddamned masterpiece.