“Are you sure?” Drew murmurs, so soft only I can hear it.

He’s never met Micah, but it’s so obvious, that claiming gaze. There is only one person who would think they had the right to look like they owned me.

I press against Drew and he lets out a soft breath. “Okay,” he says.

Mae—brilliant, calm, cool, collected Mae—flails her hands. Actually flails.

“It’s … so good to see you, Micah! Thank … thank you for coming. I, um … This is my boyfriend, Ben. He, uh, he goes to MIT and—”

Micah is ignoring Mae. Staring at me. The smile disappears from his face, and now he just looks confused. Because I was supposed to run to him. To be happy. To give him a big kiss.

But I just stand here.

“Hi,” I say.

All those missed calls swim between us. The ones he missed. The ones I missed. On accident. On purpose. The awkward texts. The ignored texts. The photos that were promised and never sent. All the things we can’t say, won’t say. The entire month of March, and everything after. The wave.

He walks past my sister, toward me. Looks at Drew. Looks harder at Drew. At the lack of space between us.

Drew slides his hand into mine. Holds tight.

And now Micah stops. Goes completely still.

“Fuck,” Nate whispers.

“So were you waiting to tell me about this when I came for Christmas?” Micah’s voice is so quiet, that calm sea inside him getting ready to swell. “Or was I never supposed to find out?”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“You’re sorry.”

“Nothing’s happened,” I say. “I promise.”

He gives our hands a pointed look.

“Yeah, that’s a lie.” Micah turns to Drew. “So, what, my girlfriend fucks you, and you give her pills?”

I wish he’d hit me instead. I really think I do. Who is this boy?

Mae makes a startled, choked sound. “Micah—”

Drew starts to say something, too, but I beat them both to it. “If that’s the kind of person you think I am, then there’s nothing more we need to say here. So you can turn your ass around and go back to Logan Airport.”

“I…” Micah shakes his head. “Fuck.” He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. When he looks back up at me I see what I feel every morning, when I first wake up, flash across Micah’s face—all that shame and regret, all those what-ifs. “I’m sorry. I’m just—baby, what the fuck is happening right now? We … you’re my … I don’t understand.”

“Is it true?” Mae says from behind Micah. She’s staring at Drew. I have never seen violence on my sister’s face before. I think she might hit him. “Are you the one giving her the pills?”