Chapter Nine

Chase

A trending topic in college news, sure. And that was exciting and so much fun.

But the comments still stung.

Told you they were acting. Chase doesn't date anyone.

As if Amos would be his type anyway.

Wonder what they're filming?

A "She's All That" remake with the Preppy Jock and the Emo?

"Ouch," I mumbled. "Now I'm a preppy jock?"

Amos didn't even look up. He didn't seem interested in any of it. "I told you not to read the comments. Why do you like to torture yourself?"

He'd been quiet since we got back. While the others did their thing and the tech crews set up sound, cameras, and production, he just kinda slunk off to the corner and sat with his back to the wall, knees raised. Not looking at his phone, not reading a book. Just picking at a thread in the hole on his knee and staring at nothing.

Was this him needing to timeout from people ?

Probably.

But that didn't include me, right?

Of course not.

I went over and tapped his knee, then sat down right in between his legs leaning back against him. I was beginning to think this could be my new favorite spot.

"Are you okay there?"

"I am now." I sighed as I made myself comfortable, which included taking his hand and draping his arm over my chest. "I'm just going to assume that if you need less people time that does not include me. I'll be quiet, I just don't want you to be alone."

"I like being alone."

"And I like hanging with you, so can you see my conundrum?"

He sighed, long and loud. "And it's all about you, right?"

"See, you're getting the hang of this relationship with me. You'll be a pro in no time."

He sighed again, and I made good on my promise to be quiet.

If he needed silence, I could at least give him that.

And anyway, I wasn't lying. I liked hanging out with him. That silence that most people thought was him being shy or emo or reclusive, I actually found kind of comforting.

It was peaceful.

The hard exterior was now almost like a reassurance. The stoicism and reluctance he had around other people felt like a safety bubble, and I found myself enjoying that. I didn't have to put on an act, I didn't have to try and be funny, there was no audience. I could just be... me.

I liked it a lot.

After almost everyone was gone, Deirdre came over to us. "How are we feeling? Everything okay?"

I waited for Amos to answer first. He didn't.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "Not sure about this guy, though." I tapped his leg. "If he's just processing or just needs some non-people time."

"I'm fine," he replied quietly.

Deirdre gave him a pointed nod. "If you need to talk about anything, you come find me. Any time, day or night, okay?"

He nodded.

"Are you comfortable with the displays of public affection?" she asked him. "I know you said you were in the beginning, but how are you feeling about it now?"

He took a second to answer. "Yeah, I'm fine with it."

She looked at me, sprawled out using Amos as a recliner. "I can see you're fine."

I shrugged. "Yep." Amos said nothing else, and I got the feeling her being here, although well-intentioned, wasn't helping. "Amos and I need a minute. We're just gonna chill for a bit, if that's okay," I said. "If you need us to leave...?"

"No, you're fine," she said, taking the hint and backing off. "You know where to message me."

She left us alone and soon enough it was just him and me. "Thanks," Amos mumbled.

"That's okay," I replied. "Kinda got the feeling you needed some alone time."

He snorted quietly. "And yet, here you remain. "

"Because you being alone includes me."

"I think you need to google the definition of alone."

"I did. It says to be by oneself with Chase."

He chuckled, and I made no attempt to get up, get off him, or to move his arm from where it was still draped around me.

It was really freaking nice.

"Is this what couples do?" I asked. "Because this feels good. It's relaxing and comfortable."

"Glad you're comfortable."

I laughed, but yeah, still not moving.

"And yes, I believe this is what couples do."

"Is this cuddling or snuggling? You know, if I wanted to give it a name."

"Cuddling. I guess. Not sure the definition is so specific. Snuggling, I'd assume, is more intimate."

"More intimate than this?" Because to me, this was pretty damn intimate.

"Like on a couch or bed, more body contact."

"Naked body contact?"

He laughed. "Not sure. Probably, yes. Naked cuddling? Though not all snuggling requires nakedness."

"It should. I love being naked."

He sighed again, but I was sure he was smiling. Without looking up, I could just tell.

"Did you want to talk about anything we did today?" I asked. "Was how I acted as Dominic okay with you? You need to tell me if I cross a line or anything."

He was quiet again for another second, like a pause, while he decided how honestly he was going to answer. "It was fine. I just... your character is very you. Dominic is very Chase-coded. And while Elijah is still introverted like me, my character is expected to conform to yours." He sighed with a shrug. "I know it's for ratings and whatever. Introverts and quiet book-types don't make very interesting reality TV stars."

I sat up and stared at him. "Are you kidding? Introverts make the best characters. All mysterious and shit. And you guys always get to be the serial killers and psychos. You know, it's the quiet ones you gotta watch."

It was an attempt to get him to smile, and it kinda worked. "Gee, thanks."

"I get it," I said, putting my hand on his knee. "And people are gonna be watching us. Watching you. That's a lot, I get it. So if you need to decompress alone, then I get that too."

"Like you're leaving me alone right now?" He gestured to the empty room, then to him and me. "Alone, but with you."

I grinned at him. "Exactly!"

"So, everything is about you."

I gave his knee a shove. "See? You know exactly what it's like to be in a relationship with me."

His lips twisted into something that was almost a pouty smirk. "God. Even being in a fake relationship with you is a lot."

I laughed and jumped up to my feet. I held out my hand and pulled him up. "Come on, I need food."

"You always need food."

"Oh my god, you are so good at this."

He was smiling when we picked up our bags, just as some girls—freshmen—came barreling in. They stopped when they saw us, giggled, and got all shy, so I grabbed Amos's hand and pulled him out of the room.

I dropped his hand as we got outside and we headed toward the dining hall. "I get the feeling we need to get used to that," I said.

"Would you ever get used to it?"

I held the door open for him to go inside. "Hell yes. Fame and fortune all the way."

"So you need security to get groceries?"

"Dude. Fame and fortune. I'm talking enough fortune so I can pay someone else to shop for me."

He rolled his eyes and took a tray. I was surprised he was going to eat but never made a point to mention it. I was just glad. I took a plate of pasta and salad, some fruit and a juice, then threw on some bread as well.

He chose pretty much the same, just not as much, which was fair.

We sat down at the back of the dining hall. He faced the wall; I faced the room. I was kinda glad he couldn't see the people watching us.

"I think it'll settle down once filming starts," I said after we'd eaten a bit. "People will be used to seeing the cameras around. Pretty sure Deirdre said there were announcements going out about the filming and to remind people to please not interrupt or act like idiots in the background."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, given it's basically an insight into life at FU, I'm guessing they don't want any bad raps. I mean, they're calling it some fictional college, but everyone will know it's here."

"True." I stabbed some pasta with my fork, wondering how I should say this... "And once the bulletin goes out, people will know I'm Dominic and you're Elijah, so when they see us with the cameras around, they'll know we're in character." I made a face at my lunch. "I mean, just in case you... if you don't want people to think you and me are... dating for real."

He looked at me then. "I don't care what people think. I've told you that. But you do, clearly."

"No, not like that," I said quickly. "I don't care if people think I'm dating you. I don't care if they see us together. It's their idea of who I should date that makes them write stupid comments on social media. But at least writing our character names next to our real names will remind them that we're just acting."

He did a weird thing with his eyebrows that kinda came off as sarcastic without him having to say a word. He was so good at silent acting. "Sure."

God.

Now I'd made it weird, and I wasn't even sure how.

"So are you still coming to watch me play volleyball tonight?"

He pushed his food around with his fork, frowning at it. "I thought that was Dominic talking."

"Sure it was. He asked Elijah to come watch." I tapped his foot with mine under the table so he'd look at me. "Kinda hard for Elijah to come watch if you don't bring him."

He rolled his eyes again, but the corner of his mouth curled up a little. "This method acting really is something, huh?" He ran his hand through his hair, and so god help me, it looked good. "Being in character full time is harder than I thought it would be. "

"And we haven't started filming yet."

He chewed on the inside of his lip for a bit. "Hm."

Why did he somehow look ten times hotter to me than he ever had in that moment? The angle of his jaw, the line of his neck, his dark hair where his fingers had left track marks...

"What time is volleyball?"

I grinned at him. "You're such a good boyfriend."

Volleyball started at six.

It was just a pickup game, a bit of fun with the guys. I'd felt as if I'd been neglecting my friendships so it was good to spend some time with them.

Especially on the beach at twilight. The sand was cool underfoot, the sun was getting low, the fading light made everything look like they'd used a photo filter. The day was winding down, class was finished, dinner had been had. It was playtime.

People were coming across the campus to watch, which was normal. It was a great night to sit on the pier or the steps to the beach, grab some snacks from the food trucks, and chill with friends.

But I hadn't seen Amos yet.

"Christ, Chase," Jimmy said, throwing my water bottle to me. "It's been two hours since you saw him last and you're already looking for him."

Fuck.

"I just don't want him to be by himself," I said. Which was redundant because I knew he would be by himself. "He's not big on crowds or people in general. This is out of his comfort zone."

More crowds came down as we were warming up, and by the time the first match started, we had a decent audience.

Still no Amos.

I tried to tell myself not to be disappointed, but that was a fat waste of time. I tried to not be distracted, tried not scanning the crowd, or looking for a familiar face with dark hair and a sly smirk. But that wasn't going too well either, apparently, because I missed a few easy shots and I wasn't really paying much attention to the game. We lost the first set.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jimmy said, sending the ball none too gently at my head. I caught it before it hit me—barely—and before I could spit out what the fuck , he pointed to the pier. "He's over there. He's been there for fifteen minutes. Now quit looking and pay some goddamn attention. I got two beers on this match."

I looked over toward the pier to where Jimmy had gestured, and sure enough, there he was.

Amos, in his black jeans with the knees out of them, black hoodie, and his Chucks. Without even realizing it, I was grinning at him... until Jimmy came over, took the ball from me, and shoved me into place.

When I took notice, people were smiling at me on the volleyball court—waiting for me so they could play?—and in the crowd too, but before I could even be embarrassed, the whistle blew and play began.

I was more focused for the second set. I managed some points and a few kickass saves. And it helped that I had a reason to try and look cool now.

It was a tough game but a lot of fun, and we'd managed to win the second set. I was hot and sweaty and covered in sand, and knowing that people would be watching—hell, maybe that's why I did it—I grabbed my water bottle and jogged over to Amos.

"Hey."

He made a face, clearly horrified that I'd make a bigger point of drawing attention to him. "What are you doing?"

"I didn't think you'd come," I said, ignoring his question. I pulled up the hem of my shirt to wipe my forehead and then I had an even better idea.

I pulled my shirt off right in front of him.

I heard some laughter behind me, but I wasn't turning around.

"Very Top Gun ," Amos said. "Iceman."

I wiped my abs over with my shirt and chugged some water. "You calling me Iceman is better than generic, so I'm taking that as a win."

"Iceman from Top Gun 1986 is the definition of generic Hollywood, but okay."

I threw my shirt at him. "Don't tell me you didn't like watching me play just now. I caught you smiling a time or two."

He held up my sweaty shirt. "Ew. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Hold it for me," I said, giving him the smile that usually got me whatever I wanted. "And you can't toss it because people are watching and you have to think, what would Elijah do with Dominic's shirt? "

Amos gave me an unimpressed glare. "He'd send it to the CDC and then have an acid bath, that's what Elijah would do."

I laughed and stepped in even closer. "He absolutely would not. He'd love it. Method acting, remember?"

I was probably pushing my luck with him, but to be honest, I really gave my shirt to him so there'd be more of a chance he'd stick around until the match ended. We were heading down to Shenanigans after the game and I wanted him to come with me.

So, he'd either hold it till the end or my shirt would be a lump of fabric on the sand, and he'd be nowhere to be found.

I had a feeling it'd be the latter.

But to my surprise, he stuck around.

Also to my surprise, we won the match. I played awesome in the final set; it helped that I played harder than I'd ever played in that final set. I told myself it was not because Amos was watching me.

But it absolutely was.

I wanted to impress him.

Even if he didn't care.

But did sticking around mean he cared? Or was he just acting the part of his character, Elijah?

Because sure, being in character one hundred percent of the time was very much an Amos thing to do. This was an exercise in method acting, after all.

But I wasn't entirely sure I was . . .

When the match ended, we walked off to our drink bottles and most of the crowd dispersed. Amos headed over and threw my shirt to me. "Good game," he said .

"Thanks."

Tater smiled at him, and I knew he was about to say something... I mean Tate. I really had to stop calling him Tater. "Hey," he said to Amos. "We're heading down to Shenanigans. Wanna come with us?"

Amos was clearly surprised and he shot me a wild look. "Uh..."

"Just for one drink," I said, striking while the iron was hot. "And food. It'll be fun." But remembering how peopling wasn't his favorite thing to do, I added, "We don't have to stay long."

Amos shoved his hands into his back pockets. "Uh, okay. Sure."

I grinned at him, and yeah, it wasn't my character Dominic that was happy. It was me. "Awesome."

He looked me up and down. "But only if you put your shirt on."

Jimmy grabbed my pec and tweaked my nipple. "These are his emotional support tiddies. Brings 'em out whenever he can."

I batted his hand away and rubbed my nipple. "Ow."

Amos almost smiled. "Emotional support tiddies. Makes sense."

I used my balled-up shirt to wipe off as much sweat and sand off my chest and arms as I could. "Leave my tiddies alone."

I was just glad he didn't call them moobs in front of Jimmy.

"It sounds better than emotional support moobs."

Aaaaand there it was .

I looked at Amos and sighed while Jimmy roared laughing.

"Thanks a lot," I mumbled. "Never gonna hear the end of that."

Tate gave me a sympathetic nudge. "Guess it's better than generic Hollywood."

Tate meant no harm, but Jimmy laughed again, and even Amos cracked a smile. I looked at all of them. "Is it National Pick on Chase Day today? Did I miss the memo?" I gave Amos a pointed stare. "You are supposed to be on my side."

Jimmy and the others picked up all their stuff and began heading toward the bar, and Amos and I fell into step behind them. There were some girls still on the steps watching us, so I slung my arm around Amos's shoulder, pulling him into my side.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's payback for the moobs comment. Now Jimmy is gonna be a pain in my ass for weeks."

I'd pulled him so close he kinda had to put his arm around my waist. "You're all sweaty and gross," he said.

But he never dropped his arm, so I kept mine where it was. "Volleyball was fun. I'm glad you came to watch."

He made a scowly face. "I'm not staying here long, just so you know. Just enough to show face, play our part, then I'm bailing."

"Fair enough."

I was surprised he'd said yes to the bar at all, so even five minutes was a win.

Especially when he saw how crowded it was. A lot of people meant close contact, and I was grateful for all the practice we'd done because it didn't feel weird at all.

It felt natural.

We managed to score a tall table by the wall, so I put Amos on a stool in the corner so he was kinda hidden and might feel more comfortable. It also meant I could maybe press him against the wall if it got extra crowded.

Not my original plan, but I didn't object when it happened.

Neither did he.

I found myself somehow between his legs, my arm around his shoulder, a drink in my other hand.

Yep, all that close-contact practice had been a great idea.

"So," Jimmy said, looking at Amos. "You drew the short straw and won the consolation prize, huh?"

"I'm not a consolation prize," I said, sipping my drink. "So that's a real quick fuck you. I'm first prize all the way."

Amos smirked as he sipped his bourbon. "Your friends are great for your self-esteem."

"I know! I don't know why I keep them."

"Because shit-talking is our love language," Jimmy said, raising his glass.

We clinked our drinks together and Amos shook his head.

Amos's phone beeped with a message and I saw Deirdre's name on the screen. He tapped on it.

Casting just went out. Enjoy!

There was a link, which he clicked on, and there on the screen was the list of the cast .

Our names alongside our character names.

Chase Soria as Dominic Davis

Amos Beddington as Elijah James

I looked at Amos. "Well, Elijah. It's out there now."

"So it is," he replied, meeting my eyes. "Dominic."

I didn't even mind him calling me that, because our faces were just a few inches apart, and while Amos would never look at me like that, Elijah would.

Method acting sure was a mindfuck.

Taylah and Georgia were suddenly at the table. "Hey, Dominic," Taylah said with a drunk grin. She held up her phone. "And Elijah. Looking forward to the show."

"I knew there had to be a reason," Georgia said, looking at me.

A reason why I'd declined her offer the other night.

"Something like that," I said before sipping my drink. Because man, in that moment, I'd pick Amos a hundred times before I'd pick her.

Why?

I wasn't sure.

Because maybe you like the whole fake-relationship thing more than a meaningless fuck.

Fake relationship? Or the idea of a real one?

I downed my drink trying to shut that voice up.

"I think that's my cue," Amos said. He slid his empty glass into the middle of the table and stood up.

"Yeah, okay," I said, knowing he was never staying long. I gave Jimmy and Tate a nod. "Catch you guys later. Bye, girls." I gave them a parting nod, took Amos's hand, and pulled him through the crowd .

I didn't let go of his hand, not even when we were outside, the cool air a welcome reprieve.

"You can stay," he said, facing me.

"Nah, I can't." I tried to roll some tension out of my shoulders, giving his arm a bit of a shake because I was still holding his hand.

I didn't want to let go of it. No clue why. I just needed the contact. The connection.

"I wasn't feeling that tonight." I nodded toward the way back home and we began walking. "Kinda glad to leave if I'm being honest."

"So are we holding hands the whole way back?"

I gave his hand a squeeze. "The whole way."

He was trying not to smile, and it plucked at something inside me.

"Those girls," Amos said after a bit. "Was that Georgia?"

I groaned. "Yeah. Nice girl. We had a thing once. We're still friends, but I don't want a repeat."

"Oh, that's right. You don't do repeats. I forgot."

I shot him a sideways glance. "It's not that I don't... Well, okay, I didn't used to. I just never..."

I stopped talking, not even sure what I was trying to say. But now holding his hand felt weird. I let it go, missing the warmth of it, and the ache in my chest grew a little deeper.

And I was hurt.

Why? Because I never did used to want repeats, and that was a well-known fact. So why did him saying that hurt so much? Because him thinking less of me, thinking I wasn't capable of dating anyone...

Fuck .

"I dunno," I mumbled.

"You just never what?" he asked. "You dunno what? You're not normally at a loss for words, Hollywood."

I rolled my eyes at his stupid name for me, but it also kinda made me smile. He made me feel a bit better without even trying. "I dunno about a lot of things," I said. "Like what we're gonna watch when we get back to your place. Or what kind of pizza we're gonna order."

He snorted as he took the steps up to the entry hall of his dorm. "You assume a lot," he said, leaning his back against the door. But then, with that disarming smirk, he pushed the door open, waiting for me to brush past him.

Which I did, of course. A little closer than was completely necessary, but that was totally his own fault. I went up the stairs without waiting. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"For the view of my ass when I'm walking up these freaking stairs again." I lifted the back of my shirt and tucked it into the back of my shorts. "There you go. Unimpeded view. Now you're welcome."

"Tell me, do people find your douchery charming?"

I stopped, mid-step, turned, and smiled at him. "Believe me, those who I've douched for, appreciated it very much."

He stared, cheeks turning pink, before he trudged past me. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You did, yeah." I followed him up the stairs. "Now it's me who should say thank you."

"Stop looking at my ass," he grumbled.

"It's a great ass," I replied, just as two girls came down the stairs. They giggled, and I gave them a nod. "It's true. He has a great ass."

He stopped on the landing so he could glare at me, which, of course, made me grin at him. He also glared at me when he opened his door for me, and I grinned at him as I walked in.

This game was so much more fun than my uncertain, overthinking shitshow game from earlier. It was so much more fun to pretend not to have feelings.

I threw myself on his bed, head on his pillow. "So," I said, "pizza?"

"You know," he said, toeing out of his Chucks. "When we agreed to the whole method-acting thing, I was pretty sure it did not include you lying on my bed demanding pizza."

"Okay, one. I didn't demand it. I suggested it. Offered to order it, even. There was definitely a question mark implied, so that rules out any demands. And two, this is method acting. Me lying on your bed is exactly what a boyfriend would do. And we are acting boyfriends, amiright?"

He sighed. "You're impossible to argue with."

"Only when I'm right. Which is most of the time." I took out my phone. "So, meat lovers okay?"

"Get the spicy one. The Godfather, I think it's called."

So of course I had to do my best Godfather impersonation. He'd basically asked for it.

"‘I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse.'"

I thought he might roll his eyes at me, but no. He replied with his own. "‘It's a Sicilian message. It means Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.'"

I laughed, impressed. "Great quote."

He lifted my legs and sat on the bed with his back against the wall. He put my legs back across his knees, his hand resting on my thigh. "It's an underrated quote."

"And that's an underrated move," I said, gesturing to my legs. "Impress all the boys with that?"

He replied with a glare. "Don't get comfortable. You're going down to get the pizza."

"That's fine. I'll be taking the elevator. No point in taking the stairs if you're not there to ogle my ass."

He sighed. " Rick and Morty okay?"

"Perfect."

And I couldn't lie, this was perfect. Just chilling, easy company, stupid, funny shit to watch and pizza on the way.

"Tell me, is all dating like this?" I asked. "I mean, boyfriends. Is this what they do every night?"

"Why? Are you bored?"

"Are you kidding? This is like my ideal night right here."

He kept his eyes on the screen but his smile turned a little wry. "Yeah, I guess this is what boyfriends do."

"Man, I've been missing out. Add in some making out, maybe an orgasm or two, and it's a perfect night."

He turned slowly to face me. "Pardon?"

Oh shit. I just realized how that sounded.

"I didn't mean with you. Tonight. I just meant in general. If this is what boyfriends do. This, right here." I gestured to us. "Hanging out, chilling out watching shit on Netflix, and eating pizza. I mean, that's perfect. And I'm assuming most boyfriends make out because that's what couples do, right? And sex? That's all I meant. I didn't mean you. I mean, not that I'd be opposed to that. With you, because you're hot and everything." Christ, Chase, stop talking. "But that's not... I didn't mean... Fuck."

He was still staring, but the corner of his mouth did that thing... that almost curling thing that I was beginning to think was his trademark smirk. "Are you done?"

"Embarrassing myself? Not sure. The night is young. Anything's possible."

He pressed his lips together and watched the screen for a bit. "So you think I'm hot?"

I pulled his pillow over my head and groaned. "Is it possible to snuff yourself with a pillow?"

"Dunno. You try it, then we'll know."

I took the pillow and tried to whack him with it, but he deflected it easily. He gestured to his screen. "You're missing one of my favorite episodes."

I shoved his pillow back under my head and pouted for a bit, trying really hard not to think about how his hand was now resting a little further up my thigh.

"You're totally hot," I said, aiming for nonchalance, watching Rick and Morty do stupid shit. "Don't pretend you don't know that."

He shot me another glare, mouth open, just about to kill me with sarcasm and wit, no doubt, when my phone beeped.

"Ooh, pizza," I said. "Saved by the bell."

I pulled one leg back, sat up, and straddled him before climbing off the bed. The move stunned him, but I got in a quick grind before he could shove me.

"Do you need another lesson in consent?"

I stopped at the door. "Would that involve you pinning me down with your body weight again? Because if so, then yes, I need another lesson in consent."

He lobbed the pillow at me but I was already out the door.

I jogged happily down the stairs and was at the bottom before I remembered the elevator existed. I grabbed the pizza and took the elevator back up to his floor. His door was unlocked so I just walked straight back in and joined him on the bed with my back to the wall, my thigh touching his.

I had no intention of moving. Lying all over him was my newest favorite thing to do.

I put the pizza on our laps. "The elevator is the way to go," I said, shoving the first slice into my mouth. "We should take that from now on. I'll forgo the ogling of your ass just not to walk up those stairs."

"Nice."

I wasn't sure if he was referring to my comment about his ass or me speaking with half a mouthful of food. I wasn't bothered either way. "I'll just have to cop an eyeful every other chance I get."

He bit into his pizza. "Shut up and watch the show."

So I did. And we ate the whole pizza, laughed our way through two more episodes, and by the end of the night, I was certain—without any doubt—that if we were dating for real, I would've spent the night. In his bed, in his arms.

I wanted to. Hell, if he'd offered, I would've been naked and face down on his bed in a heartbeat.

I even considered offering it.

But instead, knowing he'd have told me off and sent me packing and knowing we were about to start filming in the next day or so, I couldn't risk ruining such a good thing.

The next morning, I found Jimmy and Tate eating breakfast before class. I came down, my mood bright and cheerful. "Morning."

Jimmy stared at me. "You were home late. Guess your smile says why. You finally got some."

I poured myself some juice. "Nope. Not like that. But I did have a revelation."

Tate looked very confused. "About what?"

"About me."

Jimmy smirked. "And?"

"About this whole dating thing. Being a boyfriend or whatever." I took a mouthful of juice while they waited. I swallowed, still smiling, too happy to care. "It's like the best thing ever."