I look at Devin and feel heat rush to my face because I’d forgotten how beautiful eir eyes are, and how cute eir lips are, and I don’t want to think about that right now. I’m not into Devin. I can’t be.

“It’s okay for your feelings about Drew to change, you know?” Devin says. “I mean, just because you were into him before doesn’t mean you did something wrong by not wanting to be around him later.”

But I don’t want to hear that from Devin right now. I don’t want em to treat me like some kid in need of fortune cookie advice.

And more than anything, I don’t want to think about what comes after. I don’t want to think about letting Drew go and moving on and the feelings I might have to acknowledge if I do that here.

I roll my eyes and say, “Just drop it, okay? You don’t know anything about Drew or me, so just let it go.”

And Devin’s face drops, but I can’t bring myself to pick it up right now. I just need to think. I need to lock myself away and think.

“I need to go home,” I say.

I stand from the bed, already halfway to the door when Devin says, “Wait, at least let me drive you.”

And I nod because it’s getting kind of late, and the apartment’s pretty far.

I know I should apologize for snapping at em, maybe thank em for offering me the ride, but all I can think about is getting home. My heart weighs down my chest, and my body feels tense, like it’s waiting for an answer, and I know there’s really only one place to find it.

When I get home, Brian’s not there. Probably out enjoying the Fourth with his frat brothers since Maggie’s no longer in the picture. I race into my closet and dig around for the little shoebox where I keep my Best-Friend-Approved Datemate Qualities list. I’m positive I brought it with me. There’s no way in hell I’d let it go to California with my parents.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally find it, my fingers tracing the lid lovingly for a moment. Then I pull it open, yanking out the envelope where Becca filled in all the things I’d need in an ideal partner. I promised her I wouldn’t open it until I thought I’d found the one, but I need to make sure. I need to know if this is the Release, or really just the end, or something else entirely.

I unfold the small sheet of paper to read her list, which is about twenty items shorter than the one I wrote.

Must be someone you can talk to the same way you’d talk to me.