“No,” Lily interrupted, putting down her drink. It was important that he hear this, she thought. It was the most important thing he would ever hear; she was sure of it. “You are the best guy. I mean that. The. Best. Guy.”

Philip smiled just a little before he inched backward out of Lily’s grip.

“That’s nice of you.”

“No, no, no,” Lily repeated. “You’re not hearing me. You’re seriously the best. Sarah . . . there are a million girls like Sarah. You could do so much better. If you just let me, I could set—”

“No, thanks,” Philip interrupted. But he looked more comfortable than he had a few minutes before, and a few minutes before that. She was getting through to him, Lily thought with a tingle of pride. They were bonding.

“Fine,” Lily said, and took the final sip of her drink. “But can I ask—why her?”

She couldn’t see his face anymore; the dark had crept up the porch, and the dim lights from the living room only outlined the shape of him, like he was an anonymous tipster in a Mafia documentary.

“She’s smart,” he said finally. “Not just in school, though. She’s smart-funny. My dad always says you can tell the quality of a person’s brain from their humor, and she is the proof.” He shifted on the swing. “And she seems to think I’m smart too. And funny. She gets me in a different way than other people. But it doesn’t matter. She’s not into me.” He reached for his beer and tilted his head back. “She’s into someone else.”

Those last words hit Lily’s skin like electricity. As she had the whole weekend, whenever faced with the shadow of a thought she didn’t want, she reached for her empty Solo cup and then for his beer, taking it right from his hands. He let her.

“You know what I think?” she asked when she had finished it. The alcohol made her vision swim, but it helped settle the unasked question that sparked and hissed in her chest. “I think if you like her so much, you should go get her. Screw this other person. You are one of a kind, Mr. Harrison. You deserve to get the girl. Don’t give up. There’s nothing sexier than a guy who knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.” She patted his knee definitively. “That’s what I think.”

Philip pitched forward, his elbows landing on his knees.

“Thanks, Lily,” he said, after a minute of nothing but the roar of crickets over a pop hit’s bass beat. “You know, I’m glad you’re practically part of the family.”