Jack: Are you free for dinner tonight?

I loved that he didn’t care about playing it cool and I couldn’t keep the goofy grin off my face as I wrote back yes.

Elise noticed. “Did something happen? You seem different.”

“Different how?’

“Happy? Keyed-up?”

“Oh. Um, I forgot to tell you. I met a guy,” I said, dreading this moment. “At the party. After you left.”

“You did? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” she asked, looking slightly betrayed. “Wait, is this the thing you texted me about but wouldn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to,” I said. “But—”

But you needed me, and you were devastated, and—

Instead, I said, “There just wasn’t a good time and it wasn’t important.” That was sort of true, but at the heart of it, I was a little scared of her—scared that she’d be angry that I’d had such a good time when she’d had such a shitty one.

Maybe what I was really scared of was how it might change things between us. Elise was always the one who made decisions for us, where to go, what to do—who to hang out with. And bringing Jack into my life, our lives, hadn’t been sanctioned.

It hit me then how paranoid I was being. Elise was my best friend! She’d be happy for me.

Wouldn’t she?

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Jack. I don’t know his last name yet, actually,” I said with a small laugh, trying to sound extra cheerful. “I can’t wait for you to meet him, though. I think you’ll like him.” I watched carefully for her reaction.

Her expression was unreadable and I grew uncomfortable at the silence stretching between us. Oh no, I thought. She was angry.

But then she smiled. “Can’t wait to meet him,” she said.

“Really?”

She nodded, still smiling. “Anything for you.”

33.

Back at home I took a shower and washed Jack’s Superman tee. The whole house was quiet—Mom in her study, Christian gone, and Dad at the office or on a golf course. Exhausted from the night before, I fell asleep and only woke when my phone buzzed on my chest.

Jack: Lola’s helping me pick out a shirt for tonight

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, confused.

Me: Lola?

Then Jack sent a photo of him and his golden retriever, both of them adorable with wide grins, looking carefree under sunlight. Sitting up, I stared down at it, smiling as I saved it as his contact picture.

Jack: Just to let you know, I am not above using my cute dog to flirt with you.

I couldn’t stop grinning, so busy rereading his words over and over again that I almost forgot to respond.

Me: Of course not.

Jack: Is it working?

Me: Send me more Lola pics

He sent three more: Lola and him at the lake, both of them soaked; Lola alone chasing a toy; a selfie of Jack kissing her head.

How was he so cute? It wasn’t humanly possible. I flopped back onto my bed and wanted to die from happiness.