Page 117 of Promise Me Sunshine

Jericho texts next:Perfect.

Jeffy is next:K.

Rica:Don’t sound so excited Jeffy.

And then Miles swoops in and makes everything wonderful:What about we meet at the disco bar.

There’s a very long pause where I think all of us are processing the fact that Miles has suggested we go to a disco bar.

But then Jericho chimes in:You mean Sacha’s?

Yeah.

Jericho again,What do you know about Sacha’s???

Miles sends a shrugging emoji.It’s not too far of a hike from Queens for Rica and Jeffy.

Jeffy up next:I hate Sacha’s but Miles suggested it so I’m in.

Rica:Literally can’t wait to see Miles disco.

I didn’t think this through,Miles texts.

Too late!Jericho says.Attn: everyone. The dress code tonight is no pockets.

What?Miles texts.Dress code? No pockets??I can taste the panic.What am I supposed to wear for pants? And where do I put my wallet?

After the plans are set, and Miles has insisted to me over text that he can handle his own outfit, I hit a thrift store. I’m torn between two lovers. One of them is a sweater dress so red and soft that you could bake it in a pie. The other is a metallic purple jumpsuit that’s skintight everywhere except the cowl-neck collar. It’s horrific and uncomfortable. Of course I choose that one. We’re going to a disco bar, after all.

Miles texts that he’s late due to dress code requirements, and we all wait outside the bar for him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come together!” Jericho says tome.

I shrug. Exactly how much do I tell them? “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with him, but he says we need to slow things down so now we’re giving each other space or something?” Apparently, I just err on the side of telling them everything.

I turn to see all three of them gaping at me. I laugh at their identical expressions.

“This…” Jeffy says dimly. “All happened since we saw you on Saturday?”

I shake my head at myself. “Oh, God. I guess so?”

Rica’s viciously frowning. “He said you need to slow things down…Like he’s not ready for commitment?”

“Oh. No.” I realize now what that sounded like. “I think he thinksIneed more time.”

This is apparently just as confusing to them as it is to me. But at that second the man of the hour comes jogging aroundthe corner, his breath puffing into frigid clouds and his cheeks pink with cold. He screeches to a stop in front of the group.

All of us give him an epic up-and-down. He’s in blue sneakers, pale green pleated suit pants (no pockets, of course), and a white long-sleeve waffle tee.

“Where’s your coat?” Jeffy demands.

“You said no pockets! All my coats have pockets!” And then he digests the fact that all of us are wearing coats with pockets. “Wait, what the fuck!”

We burst out laughing and Rica and Jericho both promptly unzip their coats and envelop him inside a coatful hug.

“Sorry,” Jericho says sincerely. “I should have clarified that weather-necessary clothing is an exemption.”

“Wow, you really didn’t want to get disqualified on a technicality,” Jeffy muses.

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