“I’m not artistic, not the way Sophie is,” I add. “But I loved the idea of working with jewelry and helping people find pieces that they really appreciate, the way Helen did. When she retired and closed down her shop, I was really upset. I missed it, you know? And that’s when I knew I had to have a shop of my own.”

From there, the conversation spirals into why we’d both die before racking up student loans in grad school and what we’d do if we won the lottery. By the time the mozzarella sticks and beer are gone, it’s fully dark out—I don’t know where the time has gone. Aside from a couple that looks like they’re on an awkward first date, Raj and I are the only people left in the bar.

I’ve never really had guy friends before. Sure, there were guys I knew in college, and we’d hang out after class and on weekends, but that’s not quite the same thing as what I have with Raj. Those were friendships of convenience. Back then, we led lives with a shared rhythm—classes, internships, parties, stumbling bleary-eyed and hungover into the library on weekend afternoons to cram. But now, there’s no real gravity holding me and Raj together, aside from the fact that he’s just genuinely cool. He’s easy to be myself around. And these days, that’s increasingly rare to come by.

“I’m glad things are okay between us,” he says suddenly, giving me a sheepish look. “You know, after the other night.”

“Oh my god, yeah. Yeah! I just wasn’t feeling well. Thanks for being so chill about it.”

He reaches over the bar to give me a hug. “So, we’re cool,” he says, laughing.

“Always, dude,” I say, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

When we break apart, he goes from starry-eyed to straight-faced in a split second. He coughs and looks away. His cheeks flush. I wouldn’t blush just from hugging a friend—but I’m not confident enough to call him out on it, either. I push the thought away, crumple up my napkin, and formulate an excuse for why I really need to get going.

• Part 2 •

September

• Chapter 16 •