“On this crush? And you think I’m the best person to help?”

“I don’t know if it’s a crush. I don’t know what those feel like. And you’re … my friend … I guess.”

Samuel’s hand goes to his chest. “I’m honored, even with the ‘I guess.’ ”

“Shove it.”

“Do you want my absolutely honest trans opinion?”

I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Fine, yes. Give me your opinion.”

“You called me for a reason when you didn’t have to. There was no reason for you to spill this secret to me, to call me when it’s so late here on the East Coast. Because you already know your answer.”

It’s the most serious I’ve ever heard Samuel sound. He’s usually such a goofball, so ready to crack jokes or say something stupid.

So it’s a little surprising to hear his tone.

“Crushes are …” He sighs. “Weird. And bad. They’re not fun. But they happen, and you can’t really control how or when they decide to rear their ugly little heads. They’re like IBS.”

That’s the Samuel I know.

“But you called me for a reason, admitted the whole fake dating to me when it was clear that you wanted to keep it a secret from all of us. I think you know you have a crush, and you just need someone to tell you what you want to hear.”

“Well …” I’m still kind of in shock. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You know, when your parents are therapists and you have your identity analyzed to hell, you learn a few things.”

“Right.”

“How does Wyatt feel about you?”

“What do you mean?”

Samuel stares at me. “What part of that did you not understand?”

“I—”

“Do I need to repeat it?”

“No.”

“Then answer.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Not fun to get a taste of your own medicine, huh?” Samuel has this shit-eating grin on his face. “Answer me, Kearney.”

“I don’t know how he feels. I can’t read his mind.”

“How is he acting around you?”

“I don’t know … the normal way?”

“And what’s that like?”

“Goofy, smiling a bunch, making bad jokes.”

“Well … how do you feel about him?” Samuel asks. “And for the love of God, please don’t say that you don’t know.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t. I mean, tonight? He made me feel … I dunno, warm? Appreciated? He sang for me, Samuel. The guy fucking played guitar and sang for me.”

“Oh shit, that’s hot.”

“Yeah! You’re telling me. And the whole fake-boyfriend thing is fucking me up too. Like he’s holding my hand, and we’re sitting close to each other, flirting in front of other people. I want it to be real, but I can’t tell whether it is or not.”

“I can see how that’d be an issue.”