E shrugs. “Yeah, and about you coming over. I guess I—well, I just don’t want you to have a bad opinion of me. And I know it sounds ridiculous, and it probably is, but it’s just a fear that I have, and I can’t make it go away.”

“I’d never have a bad opinion of you,” I say.

E laughs, but it sounds like e’s forcing it out of closed lungs. “You hated me when we met, didn’t you? And I know it’s my fault for anxiety-puking on you, but . . .”

“I didn’t know you back then,” I say, “but I know you now, and trust me, I think you’re amazing.”

Eir breathing sounds kind of shallow, and I feel like I should do something to calm em down, but I don’t know what. Honestly, I don’t even know what it is about this situation that’s stressing em out so much.

Finally, e looks at me and says, “It’s been a really long time since I felt close to anyone, and I—I don’t want to screw it up, you know? But I always feel like I am.”

I take eir hand in mine because I don’t know what else to say. The truth is, I didn’t realize how much I needed Devin until now, and it’s not just because of how messy things have been with Becca and Drew and the Diary. E’s just really important to me. E’s one of those people who just make every day brighter, every hardship a little less daunting. And the thought that e really thinks I’d hate em—that I would genuinely want nothing to do with em—is just so preposterous I don’t know how to phrase it.

Eir breathing seems to even out a little, but eir hand still feels a little shaky in mine.

“Devin,” I say finally, “you’re a really great friend. Honestly amazing, and I’m sorry you don’t see that, but I’ll do what I can to prove it to you.”

E squeezes my hand and smiles. “Thank you.”

I wrap my arms around em, let em rest eir head on my shoulder for a while. I hate knowing it’s all I can do, but I refuse to do nothing.

Wed, Jul 4, 5:46 p.m.

Hey, Drew. Sorry, I’m gonna be a little late. Something came up.

Delivered

It takes a little while for Devin to feel better, so we pull up in front of Drew’s house about twenty minutes after six, and I give Devin’s hand one last squeeze before stepping out.

Drew meets me out on the porch, his eyes narrowed. “It’s too late to make our reservation.”

I shrug. “Sorry. I told you, something came up.”

“With Devin?”

“Yes?”