that shy, quiet bookworm type, and Cam’s always been the popular jock, so they didn’t really run in the same circles.”
Holden sits up now, yawns, and asks, “So how’d they get together?”
“I have little twin brothers and Cameron coached them in baseball. I guess he saw her there. And then…” I lick the dryness off my lips. “And then my mom died, and I don’t really know how or why, but Cameron just started showing up and kind of helping out. He played with us and kept us occupied while she took care of my baby brother. He was only eight months when Mom died, so… anyway, they’re together and married, and yeah, it’s not been easy, but it’s possible.”
He stares off at nothingness, and I think maybe he checked out, didn’t hear a word I said. But then he mumbles, “Maybe that’s the difference between you and Mia.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, you see how good things can turn out, and she only has proof of the bad.” His phone goes off with a text, and he’s quick to check it. “Shit. It’s Mia. She’s asking when I’m coming by.” He faces me. “Giddy the fuck up, bro. Shit’s about to get real.”
Holden asks, as he pulls out of his house to take the two-minute drive to Mia’s, “You ready for this?” By this, he means Drake.
“No,” I tell him honestly. “Do you even know what he looks like?” In my mind, he looks like the Drake, musician and actor.
Holden nods as he loosens his tie, then removes it completely and throws it in the backseat. It joins a bunch of other clothes, a mix of girls’ and guys’. I’d forgotten we were still in our church clothes. “He looks like Lord Farquaad.”
I stifle my chuckle. “Shut up.”
“Miniature-lookin’ dude, square head, shoulder-length black hair and fucked-up bangs,” he jokes.
I picture a real-life version of the Shrek character and bust out a laugh.
Holden laughs with me and then squares his shoulders, takes in a huge breath. “Nah, to be honest, he kind of looks like you. Like a preppy, Walmart version of you.” He ruffles my hair. “Handsome motherfucker.”
I try to resettle my hair. “You’re an idiot.”
Silence passes, and then he says, “Look, I know we’re friends—you and me—and I hope you don’t take it personally if I’m nice to the guy.”
Turning to him, I shake my head.
“It’s just…” He shrugs. “Mia’s my girl, you know?”
“I get it, man.”
“And this guy means something to her, so…”
“Don’t even worry about it.”
“Yeah?” He glances at me quickly before focusing on the road again. “Because I really like this little bromance thing we have going.” He sits taller, clearing his throat. “Anyway, did you see the rack on the pastor’s wife? Got ‘em last year. What I wouldn’t give…”
“There’s something wrong with you, dude.”
He blows me a kiss. “Love me anyway.”
We pull into the driveway, and he cuts the engine, then turns to me. “In all seriousness, do I need to be ready for a fight or something? Because you could take him… if you wanted to.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to fight him.”
“Good,” he says, opening the door. “My face is too fucking pretty to be taking blows for your pathetic, love-sick ass.”
Drake… is… wearing a sweater vest.
That’s the first thing I notice.
The second is that he’s sitting on the kitchen island with Mia standing between his legs. They both turn to us as we stop just inside the door, and Drake hops off the counter, approaching us with a blindingly fake smile and a hand out in front of him. “Holden, man, it’s good to finally meet you.”
I step to the side so Holden can shake his hand. “Yeah, bro, you too.”
I cross my arms, stare at Mia—the fake Mia with the fancy clothes and the makeup and roll my eyes. She notices, but she doesn’t react.
“And you’re Leo.” Drake’s in front of me, his hand out, and I look down at it… at hands that have touched Mia in ways I’ve only ever dreamed of.
I suck in air through my nose.
Inside me, something cracks, detonates.
Holden whispers, “Jesus Christ.”
“I can’t.” I look at Mia and shrug. “Sorry.” I’m not. I shove past Drake and make my way upstairs.
“Nice guy,” Drake cracks.
“Fuck off,” I murmur.
“Leo!” Mia yells, and I can hear the click-clack of her lying liar heels following after me. I try to shut my door, but she’s right there, pushing it back open.
I shrug out of my shirt just