Austin tossed me a root beer from a mini fridge and we sat at his empty card table, as if we were in some secret meeting. Although his well-lit basement wasn’t your typical drug dealer, mob boss hangout setting, it was not a bad place to hide a body.

“I take it Carter doesn’t know?” Austin spoke first. “To get the obvious out of the way.”

It hadn’t occurred to me to lie to him. The secret was out.

“My nose isn’t broken, so no.”

“Too bad, you could’ve used the plastic surgery.” Austin took a long sip of his root beer, with an even longer belch at the end. “How long have you two been getting cozy?”

“A month, maybe.”

“Damn, Maguire. Lying to your bro’s face for a month? Cold.”

“Lay it on me,” I said. “Don’t hold back. Won’t be half as bad as when Carter finds out.”

“Who else knows about you guys?”

“Madison,” I said reluctantly.

“Madison?” Austin clapped. “You must have some serious dirt on her, for her to not tell anyone.”

You mean that she’s in love with Carter?

Seriously, Nick. You’re screwing over all of your friends.

I had to tell him.

“She wanted my help with trying to date Carter.”

“No way. I thought I was her second choice, after you.”

“Apparently half of why she was with me was to get to Carter.”

Austin grinned, his eyes shining through his thick glasses. “And now it’s my turn to be used. I’ll definitely take it. That girl . . .”

If I hadn’t known him better, I’d have thought Austin was catching feelings. He cleared his throat.

In the hour between the soccer game and my drive to Austin’s house, I’d been mentally preparing myself for this meeting. I’d predicted two possible outcomes:

Worst-case scenario:

Austin starts hating me.

Austin tells Carter about my relationship with Eliza.

Carter starts hating me.

Best-case scenario:

Austin and I are still bros.

Austin tells Carter about my relationship with Eliza.

Carter and I are still bros.

It’d never crossed my mind that Austin might not tell Carter about Eliza and me. Austin was a bro to each of us, but this was too big for both of us to keep a secret, since Carter had specifically forbidden it.

“You get that I have to tell him, right?”

And there it was.

The chair squeaked as I leaned back. I tipped the front two legs at a perfect 110-degree angle, showing Austin how it was done. Like a boss.

“Can I tell him?” I asked. “I think it would be better if it came from me.”

“That is an understatement,” he said. “That’s pretty much the only way you guys might still be able to stay friends.”

“What I don’t get,” I said, “is why this is such a big deal to him. You dated her. Why won’t he let anyone else?”

He took off his dark Yankees cap and threw it on the table, exposing his thick, black hair. Other than the cap smacking the table, the only sound in his house was the hum from the mini fridge. That wasn’t unusual; his parents were probably where my dad was: watching sports at Robert Maxin’s dad’s house.