Chapter Twelve

"Well, if it isn't Benson Beach's most infamous celebs," says Gerry when Levi and I walk up to the entrance of the one and only tourist-free bar in town, unsubtly named the Bar. "I assume you're here to autograph everyone's cocktail napkins."

Gerry looks very much unchanged from high school, sporting the same close-cropped haircut and wearing the same plaid flannel with the same high-waisted jeans she probably owned back then. She gives me a teasing smile, then leans in to hug Levi and clap him on the back. She was in his year in high school and co-ran the Science Olympiad team with him, but is now otherwise occupied as the host of the Bar's open mic nights on weekdays, where her wry, understated sense of humor has everyone in stitches between sets.

By virtue of this talent, she's also in demand for all the queer weddings in and around the Benson Beach area. It started when she got ordained to officiate a wedding for two of our classmates a few years back who wanted a less traditional ceremony, considering one bride's parents were religious and the other bride's were anything but. Gerry seamlessly handled the whole thing, with both families happily crying and cackling throughout the ceremony in a display that Annie declared "absolute fucking magic, like watching high-stakes wedding Jenga." Ever since then, Gerry's been known not just for the jolt of fun she adds to weddings, but her ability to adapt to any kind of situation to make ceremonies all the more personal and meaningful.

Enough classmates have gotten married over the past few years that we've all seen her in action, so we planned on her officiating Dylan and Mateo's wedding before there was even a wedding to plan. When they approached her about an outdoor ceremony incorporating a few touches of the Catholic mass Mateo's parents wanted to keep with the overall party vibe that both families enthusiastically agreed on, Gerry immediately and delightedly rose to the challenge, Zooming with both sets of parents to make sure she got everything just right.

Mateo and Dylan have been meeting with her on and off for the past few weeks to plan out the ceremony, but still wanted to go over how their vows would fit into the ceremony, now that they've both written theirs. We figured we'd make a night of it, since we've been missing so many happy hours lately as it is. Then Dylan added Levi to the group chat to invite him along, which is why Levi is now stretching his long limbs out after being subjected to another drive in Bugaboo.

"Forget the cocktail napkins," says Levi to Gerry. "We figured we'd get some Sharpies and go for the front door."

Gerry laughs, then steps aside to let us in. "It's nice to see your face around town again, dude," she tells him before turning to me. "And yours too, June! Feel like it's been a hot minute. Where's the rest of the crew?"

"Sana's got deadlines, but Mateo and Dylan should be by soon," I tell her.

The thing is, I don't usually see much of Gerry or her girlfriend, Lane, since we come in on Thursdays, when there aren't any open mics. I feel a quick pang that we haven't been able to keep it up lately, especially knowing how much Dylan loves all our weekly traditions—everyone going around and sharing the weirdest part of their week, or splitting whatever '90s-themed snack the bar happens to have in its ever-running rotation of them. But at least we'll be able to catch up tonight.

"Oh, they're coming by tonight?" asks Gerry. I tilt my head because it's unlike Gerry to forget a meeting on the books, but she adds, "Sounds good. Can't wait to get emotionally compromised by their vows."

We head into the Bar with its familiar low lighting and framed Benson Beach memorabilia on the walls, nodding at people we know and people we know of, which makes up most of the people here. What the Bar lacks in name creativity, it makes up for by being one of the most fun spots in town—it's rare there's a night that doesn't come with some new story about a classmate cutting their own bangs in the bathroom or one of the town's older residents busting into a drunk karaoke medley. If you're going to let loose, this is the safest, most supportive place to get it out of your system. What happens in Benson Beach Bar stays at Benson Beach Bar, as the saying goes.

Just as we settle in to a table in one of the dimly lit corners of the Bar, Gerry takes the small elevated stage and adjusts the mic. "Good evening, one and all," she says, eyes scanning the crowd. "Before we start, a quick reminder that yes, our tater tots are delicious, but please enjoy them with a modicum of dignity. I've heard enough When Harry Met Sally reenactments tonight that even I'm blushing, and I'm pretty sure at least half this town has seen my tits."

"Thunder and Lightning!" Lane calls appreciatively from the audience.

Gerry settles a hand on her chest and says, "Forever honored you remember their names. The two of them will join me tonight in appreciating our very talented lineup for this evening, all of whom will be rewarded for their efforts with free throat lozenges they can claim up at the front. Without any further ado, let's welcome Hannah to the stage as our first performer for a night of good old-fashioned, wholesome scream poetry."

I blink. Levi goes very still.

"Please tell me she did not just say what I think she said," says Levi.

"Oh my god," I wheeze, putting a hand to my mouth. "Oh my god. "

Levi's face is a cross of disbelieving amusement and mild horror. "You monster. You waited ten years to exact your revenge."

"I didn't know!" I say, nearly gasping from the effort not to laugh as the first performer walks up to the stage. "I swear! Tonight was supposed to be the night people shared excerpts from their original fiction." I know this for a fact because I was hoping it might inspire Levi to come back and share some of his own.

But Levi shakes his head. "No, no, I see clearly now. Everything leading up to this moment was in your hundred-step plan to trap me in this bar and—"

"AGING IS A SCAM."

We startle and there is Hannah, who cannot be any taller than five feet but apparently has the vocal cords of a lion, yelling into the mic. The mic. Because apparently what we were missing from the time Levi accidentally dragged us to scream poetry as teenagers was more amplification.

We may very well not survive this night.

"DO YOU THINK GOUDA GETS UPSET ABOUT GETTING OLDER? NO. IT JUST GETS MORE EXPENSIVE AT TRADER JOE'S," Hannah bellows ferociously. "BE LIKE GOUDA! KNOW YOUR WORTH!"

"Scream it, girl!" someone calls from the audience.

"Goudadvice!" calls someone else.

Levi lifts a hand and says to the server, "We're going to need as many tater tots as you can legally give us."

The night only gets increasingly more chaotic from there. A retired teacher gets up and screams a rewrite of her wedding vows, ending with an "I WILL LOATHE AND DISHONOR YOU ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE!" so visceral that I'm sure wherever her ex is, he just shuddered without knowing why. One of the nail techs at Levi's mom's salon follows her up by screaming in multiple languages and finishing it off with an "IN CONCLUSION, FUCK YOU, SARAH, FOR WRECKING MY DUOLINGO STREAK." Another guy comes up to the mic and just yells, "AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHH!" over and over again, and then tips his hat with utter sincerity and says in a soft voice, "Thank you. I've been workshopping that one for a while now."

In between sets, I text Dylan: Where are you two??? You're missing some top-notch cheese puns and we're running out of tater tots .

Dylan's response is immediate: Are you at the bar? I thought we were meeting up tomorrow?

And then I realize with a guilty thunk in my chest—the reason we're here for scream poetry isn't because I mixed up which open mic was on which day. It's because I mixed up the actual days.

Oh crap. I'm sorry. Levi and I came tonight, I text. Any chance you can make it?

Dylan starts typing, then stops, then starts again.

"Shit," I murmur to myself.

"What's up?" Levi asks.

"I fucked up the dates," I admit. "We were supposed to meet them here tomorrow."

Levi raises his eyebrows. "Oh, so this wasn't you getting revenge. This was the universe avenging you."

More like me being a jerk. I should have paid more attention to the date. Not just for Dylan's sake, but because Levi's been looking forward to hanging out with us as a group again, too. I'm about to look up and apologize, but an incoming text from Dylan lights up my phone.

Nah we've got a Rainbow Eagles meetup tonight. Can you still make tomorrow?

I wince. I rearranged everything I had to do this week to make it here tonight as it was. If I go out a second time tomorrow, there's no way I'm going to be able to keep up with the chaos at Tea Tide.

Shit shit I can't. I'm sorry!!! I owe you a beer!!

The read receipt pops up immediately, but Dylan doesn't type back. I set the phone down and rest my head in my hand.

"Hey. Don't beat yourself up. There's a lot going on." Levi puts a hand on my shoulder, and the weight of it is so immediately, ridiculously comforting that I almost forget what he's talking about altogether. "And at least you didn't break anyone's Duolingo streak."

I smile despite myself. Levi squeezes my shoulder again before he lets it go, and I feel the warmth of it spread through me, loosening some of the tightness wound into my bones.

"All right folks, that's the end of our scheduled lineup, but the catharsis doesn't need to end," says Gerry from the stage. "Do I have any takers for the open mic?"

Her eyes settle on us with clear mischief and Levi immediately ducks his head, but it's too late. Half the bar has turned around and spotted us. The commotion is instant. I cannot for the life of me stop cackling when I look around and realize that one corner of the bar is occupied by half the staff of the salon where Levi's mom works, and another by a cluster of former Science Olympiad members who all light up at the sight of Levi like it's a surprise second Christmas.

"Seems to me like maybe two people here in particular might have some grievances to air," says Gerry with a smirk.

Levi's face is red enough to reheat our tater tots as he waves her off, but the rest of the Bar isn't having it.

"Let 'er rip, kiddo!" says one of the nail techs from the salon.

And then, to Levi's absolute mortification, one of his former teammates starts chanting "Levi, Levi, Levi " until the entire bar is chanting along with them, even people who clearly have no idea who he is.

"Aw, come on," I say. "Give the people what they want."

Levi looks over at me, his expression a mix of bafflement and panic. "What would we even say?"

I bite down a happy smile at the we —at the assumption I'm going up there with him, even though the crowd clearly has one very singular demand. That the two of us are in this together, for better or worse, the same way we have been since the first Revenge Ex tweet hit the internet.

At that particular thought, a grin starts curling on my face.

"Uh-oh," says Levi, before I've even spoken.

I lean in and grab his hand, snaking his fingers through mine. "Do you trust me?"

"Unfortunately," says Levi, without missing a beat.

I yank him up to his feet then, much to the delight of the entirety of the Bar, which is roaring with approval. On the way up to the mic, I pull up Twitter on my phone and type our names into the search bar. Within an instant it's pulled hundreds of tweets from strangers, ranging from supportive to confused to downright annoyed by our existence.

I tilt the screen so Levi can see it, too, and he lets out an amused breath of a laugh. I lean toward the mic first, staring at the crowd, and yell with all my might, "WHY DO PEOPLE CARE ABOUT LEVI AND JUNE SO MUCH? GO GET A HOBBY YOU BUNCH OF SEX-DEPRIVED NERDS."

The bar immediately erupts with laughter. Levi's trying not to grin and failing spectacularly when I hand him the phone. He lets out a surprised laugh at whatever he reads on it, then leans in close to the mic and yells, "GOD DAMMIT I WISH SOMEONE WOULD WRONG ME SO I COULD PULL A LEVI AND JUNE AND JOIN THE REVENGE EX MOVEMENT."

He looks at me with eyes so full of mirth that all at once I feel giddy, near electric, like the stress of the last few months is sliding off my shoulders and under the stage. I grin up at him as I nudge him out of the way of the mic and yell into it, "BOLD OF LEVI AND JUNE TO HAVE AN ORIGIN STORY SO ICONIC THAT THEY SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYED EVERY DATING APP ON MY PHONE."

Levi grins back, nudging me in turn to yell, "LITERALLY A CRIME THAT DUNCAN HINES HASN'T SPONSORED LEVI AND JUNE AFTER THAT CAKE NONSENSE."

I let out another sharp cackle, then lean into the mic so close that I can feel Levi's breath against my cheek. There's a split second where I almost forget to speak, so overwhelmed by the tempting heat of him I only just barely manage to yell, "MY FUCKING KINGDOM FOR A MAN WHO LOOKS AT ME EVEN ONCE THE WAY LEVI SHAW LOOKS AT JUNE HART."

I glance over at Levi after I say it, anticipating the next tweet he's going to yell into the mic. But Levi isn't leaning in. He's staring at me with a fondness so unmistakable I feel the impact of every word in that tweet—that I feel a whole lot else on the heels of it, curling in my smile, fluttering just under my ribs.

I'm so swept up that I don't even notice the entire bar has gone quiet, staring at us as we stare at each other, until Gerry steps onto the stage.

"The Revenge Exes, everyone!" she says, clapping us both on the back.

We startle back into reality, which is somehow even louder than our yelling. Nobody is more effusive than Levi's high school buddies except for maybe his mom's friends, and the display has Levi looking so bashful that I feel a little cinch in my heart at the sight. I've wondered if maybe Levi's avoided some of his old crowds since he got here, worrying that he'd been gone too long to jump back into their new rhythms. But from the near-deafening applause and cheers, it's all too clear how happy everyone is to have him back, and how much it means to Levi that they are.

"Get the fuck over here, Levi!" one of his friends exclaims, the others clearly about to descend on him.

He looks to me, and before he can ask if I want to join, I give him a quick hug. "Go hang with your nerds," I say into his ear before I pull back. "I have a whole mountain of work to get back to at Tea Tide."

"You're sure?" Levi asks.

He looks almost boyish when he asks, a shade of the Levi he was when we were kids. I nod, reaching out to squeeze his elbow, and say, "Very sure."

Levi smiles appreciatively, then leans in close and says, "All right. But just know that in another ten years, you should be on your toes. Because I'm dragging you right back here to get revenge on your revenge."

I lean in farther and say, "I'd be disappointed if you did anything less."

I can feel Levi's smile before we pull apart enough for me to see it. His friends find him a moment later and even then, he still glances at me, giving me a quick, happy wave before he practically gets swallowed into their pack.

As I'm leaving, I cast a glance back at the inside of the Bar. At the performers all flushed and pleased with themselves, cheersing with a round of beers in the corner by the stage. At one of the walls teeming with half the beach's lifeguards finishing up their shift for the day. At Levi getting hugged and hair-ruffled and playfully shoved by his friends. At the way this place isn't just a bar, but a community. Another version of home.

My chest aches and warms at the same time. It's what I've wanted for Tea Tide from the start, but it's always been hard to fully envision it. All at once, that version of Tea Tide feels less like a hope and more like a possibility—like once all this mess is over and we're solidly back on our feet, I really could build a home like this of our own. Something soft and safe and welcome to everyone. Somewhere you don't just come to visit, but come to stay.

I tuck the feeling into my heart and step out into the sweet summer air. For the first time in a long time, I don't dread the mountain of work ahead of me. For the first time in a long time, I see what might be on the other side of it, and love every inch of the view.