“Yeah,” he says. “Even though we won’t be . . . having tea anymore.”

“Who says we’re not having tea?”

“Uh, well. I thought . . .”

“I still want tea,” I tell him, and right in that instant I feel like it’s the truth. Life is short. Bad things are happening all around us. There’s no better time for us to live for the moment. “Do you still want tea?”

“I think I would love tea,” he says.

“Okay, then. Tomorrow night’s still on.”

“Really?”

Something about the way he says the word really? reminds me of Leo. It’s been a while, I realize, since I even thought about Leo. Which is progress, I guess.

“Look,” I say to Nick, “if I say something, I mean it. I wouldn’t tell you I wanted to have sex in order to trick you.”

“Okay. Good, I guess.” He coughs into his fist. “Good. I’ve been doing a lot of research.”

My eyes fly to his face, which is slowly but surely going as red as the coffee berries. “You have?”

“It’s been very interesting.” He stares off at the ocean for a second. “I didn’t know girls were so . . . complicated.”

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t, either. I haven’t done this before, you know.”

“I kind of figured,” he says with a shy smile.

But he doesn’t say it like he thinks I’m unfuckable or anything. Just like he recognizes that this is as much of a big deal for me as it is for him.

“I did see this really sexy episode of the Scottish show yesterday,” I tell him. “So that’s probably all the research I need, right?”

“Oh, the Scottish show?” he says lightly. “I’ve seen that. I get why the ladies like it. That guy is ripped.”

“Agreed. He’s almost unbearably hot.”

“How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Better do some push-ups,” I say.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “But does this mean you like redheads?”

I bite my lip against a smile. “Go team ginger.”

Our eyes meet. Then we laugh, and the tension between us dissolves. We’re both blushing.

We’re flirting. I am surprisingly into it.

Abby comes running up. “Josie’s mom says the coffee lady said that the chef is whipping something up for us, but it may take a while. Which is bad because I’m so hun-gry!” She suddenly seems to notice I’m not alone. “Hi, Nick.”

“Hi, Abby. Hey, I’ve got something you might like.” He heaves his backpack onto the table and rummages around in the front pocket before he produces a granola bar. “Here. It’s chocolate chip.”

“Oh my dog! Thanks!” Abby gasps. “You just saved my life!” She tears off the wrapper and takes such a huge bite I worry that I’m going to end up doing the Heimlich.

“That’s me,” Nick says. “Casual superhero.”