Dial it back, Nick. Stop trying so hard.

“You’re getting closer to my nerdy best friend by the minute, Nick,” Eliza called, back in her dressing room. I rubbed my jaw to hide my goofy smile.

Finally, she picked her dresses and left her selections at the desk with Dylan for her mom to grab the next day. We walked through the mall and back towards my car.

“Wow, good job, Maguire,” she said.

“Oh, with the dresses? Yeah, I know.”

“No . . . we passed a Victoria Secret and you didn’t try to look in.”

“Oh, shit, we did?” I spun around. And so we had. I’d been too distracted thinking about certain proximities to certain other people to notice. With the mall almost closing, the hallways were empty except for the few shoppers inside the boutiques. The smell of oversalted pretzels and greasy sushi hung in the air. “I mean, shoot.”

“It’s okay, Maguire. You can say ‘shit.’”

“Nah. I have a strict policy of not swearing in front of girls.”

“I’m surprised.” Eliza said, her voice filled with disbelief and something else. Darn that Girl Code.

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I guess I really didn’t think you, like . . .” she searched for the perfect phrase, “cared about other people?” Other girls.

As if it had never gone away, the awkwardness was back. “I deserve that.” After a breath, I continued, “I shouldn’t have said anything about Hannah last week. I didn’t really mean it. I was trying to gauge how you thought she stood with Robert.”

And then I said something bros hardly ever need to do, since the Bro Code clearly states that a bro is entitled to his convictions and should never feel the need to defend them: “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she swallowed a lump in her throat. “Me too. I know you care about me and Carter. And that you’re not, like, a terrible guy.”

“Not a terrible guy. I’ll take it.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “You’re still the cockiest kid I have ever met . . . though maybe you’re not totally immature.”

I laughed and threw my arm around her, careful of her shoulder, pulling her into me like I’ve wanted to do a thousand times. “Thanks. Means a lot, O’Connor.”

She didn’t shrug away like I’d expected her to, even as we passed stylish middle school girls searching kiosks for the perfect phone case. Walking beside her, arm around her, felt all kinds of thrilling: like sneaking out, being wide awake, and like I could accomplish anything. That was what I liked most about her—how exciting she could be, even when she was totally chill.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said. “Actually, you did a really good job today. You can have your prize if you want.”

“You know what I’d ask for if this were a rom-whatever, right?”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Can we keep this PG, Eliza? Please? There are kids.” I gestured around the empty hallway.