“Smooth, Ell,” Andreas said.

“Shut up.”

His feet came into view in front of my book and I pretended to be so engrossed that I didn’t even notice.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Want to grab a snack?”

I continued pseudo-reading. “I’m good.”

He kneeled down close to me, ducked lower to catch my eye. I could see his apology written all over his face. “Come inside, it’s sweltering.”

In the kitchen, he pulled out a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses, and started making us sandwiches. Andreas hadn’t followed us inside and the house was cool, dark, and quiet.

“Emma seems lovely,” I said dryly, rolling a lemon across the countertop.

He shrugged.

“She’s the one you kissed at prom, right?”

He looked up at me and scrunched his glasses up his nose. “Yeah.”

“Do you still kiss her?”

Turning his attention back down to the sandwiches, he spread the peanut butter on the bread and added jelly before answering. “No.”

“Is that a lie by omission?”

When he met my gaze again, his eyes were tight. “I have kissed her on a few occasions, yes. I don’t still kiss her.”

His words hit my ears like bricks dropped from an airplane. “You kissed her other times besides prom last spring?”

He cleared his throat, turning a brilliant scarlet.

Jerk.

“Yeah.” He shifted his glasses up higher again. “Two other times.”

I felt like I’d swallowed a jagged ice cube; something cold and hard lodged in my chest. “But she’s not your girlfriend?”

He shook his head calmly. “No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I wondered why I even had to ask this. Wouldn’t he tell me? Or spend time with her during the summer instead of me? He was always honest, but was he forthcoming?

He put down the knife and assembled the sandwiches before looking at me with a smirk. “No, Macy. I’ve been with you every day this summer. I wouldn’t do that if I had a girlfriend.”

I wanted to throw the lemon at his head. “Would you tell me if you had a girlfriend?”

Elliot gave this full consideration before answering, his eyes locked on mine. “I think so. But, I mean, to be honest, this is the one topic where I’m never sure how much to share with you.”

Even though a significant part of me knew what he meant, I still hated this answer. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Blinking away, he returned his attention to the sandwiches. “No. Not technically.”

I rolled the lemon again and it fell onto the floor. He bent to pick it up and handed it back to me.

“Look, Macy. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t want to hear if you kissed someone if it didn’t mean anything, and kissing Emma didn’t mean anything to me. That’s why I never told you.”

“Did it mean anything to her?”

His shrug said everything his silence omitted.

“Maybe it isn’t my business,” I said, “but I do want to know those things. I feel weird that I didn’t know you have a thing with her.”