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“And what were you thinking about?” he asks.
“I was thinking about how much I like this tree.”
He reaches over, eyes unfocused as he moves his thumb across my cheek. An echo of electricity lingers on my skin once he’s lifted his hand, and it takes me a second to focus on the thumb he’s showing me. “Drop of water,” he says.
“Oh.”
“Must have dripped from the tree.”
I laugh. “Are you saying I have a moisture problem again?”
Andrew blinks before he bursts out laughing. “What?”
Oh, crap. That wasn’t this timeline. That was before. This Andrew isn’t in on the inside joke. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
His eyes gleam in delight. “Did you actually just say you have a moisture problem?”
“No.” I might die from this. “Yes.” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. “Ignore it. Let’s move on.”
I can tell he’s a cat who’d like to play with this mouse a bit longer, but he gives me a little shrug, gamely singing, “Okay.” Andrew turns his attention to the branches above him, using his old-man voice. “Maisie?”
“Yes, Mandrew?”
“You know what just occurred to me?”
“What just occurred to you?”
“We brought this tree in, like, two hours ago. What if there’s a squirrel still living in there?”
We stare at each other, wide-eyed, and shout in unison: “Ahhh!”
I’ve completely forgotten that my phone is in my pocket until it buzzes, interrupting our laughter. There is no one in the world I need to talk to right now who isn’t in this room with me, so I ignore it. It immediately buzzes again.
“Your butt is vibrating,” Andrew says.
“If it’s my boss replying to me right now, I’m going to need something stronger than sparkling water.” I pull it out and look. It isn’t Neda, thankfully; it’s a text from Theo.
No punctuation, no context. Just Theo, typing like a teenager.
I realize Andrew is reading over my shoulder when he lets out a little laugh through his nose. “See?”
I feel myself recoil. “See what?”
He lifts his chin, indicating my phone. “You haven’t spent any time with him, and he’s grumpy.”
“We were just talking earlier,” I counter, not quite a lie.
“Are you mad at him?” he asks.
I swallow, staring up at the lights. A scattered view blinks in and out of focus. “Not exactly.”
“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?”
I turn my head, and Andrew blinks, brows pulled low.
“It’s hard to explain,” I admit. “I’m not mad at him, I’m just aware that he and I are close because we’ve known each other forever, but not because we’re actually close anymore.” I shrug. “Just normal drifting that happens when people grow up, I guess.”
He smiles at that. “Mae . . .”
I grin back at him. “Yes?”
Andrew clears his throat, a sweetly pointed ahem. “About what you said earlier.”
Oh.
“Yeah?” The paradox of a hammering heart and dissolving stomach makes me feel light-headed.
“I appreciate your honesty,” he says.
Ugh. The worst thing he could say right now.
“You don’t have to let me down easy, Andrew.” I reach over and playfully smack him and the tree trembles above us.
“Andrew, Mae, what are you doing in there?” Mom calls out.
“Nothing!” we answer in unison.
“Well, don’t shake the tree,” she chides.
Again, we answer together: “We won’t!”
He turns back to me, whispering, “Are you sure Theo doesn’t think you’re into him?”
“Are you saying I’ve given him the impression that I am?”
“No, but if I assumed . . . maybe Theo assumed, too.”
Well, huh. I guess if Theo thought I was into him, it might explain why he was so cold the morning after I pushed him away.
I shake my head, and Andrew turns his face back up to the lights so it’s hard to read his expression. “Is it weird that I sort of worried you’d . . .” He flounders a little. “I don’t know, get together and then get hurt?”
I can’t even wrap my head around this. Andrew worried that I would date Theo and get my heart broken? Am I in the Upside Down? “Um, yes, it is very weird.”
Andrew gives a helpless shrug in response. “He’s a player. You’re good.”
This actually makes me laugh. “I’m good?”
“I don’t mean—romantically, or, like, sexually,” he says, chuckling with the slightest edge of discomfort. “Not that I would know about that. I meant your soul.”
“What are you even talking about?” It’s a good thing I’m lying down.
“Okay, bad word choice. I mean, you’re a good person.” He turns and looks right at me. We’re so close. “You love being here, you love each of us for exactly who we are. You’re, like, the most generous and least judgmental person I’ve ever known.”
“I’m not—”
“You moved home when your parents split,” he rolls on. “You loved your crappy apartment and gave it up because your family needed you. You took care of Miles, you were there for your mom.”
I bite my lip, glowing from his compliments.
