Page 13 of Betting on You

“Not ‘ours’ as in yours and mine,” I said, “but ‘ours’ as inhisand mine.”

“Dude.” Her eyes narrowed and she said, “Is there anywhere you think of as yours and mine?”

I kept playing with my straw as I thought about it for a minute. With us, it wasn’t so muchifthere was a place that was ours but more so which place was themostours. I looked at her and said, “Definitely the dollar store in Springfield.”

She snorted. “Holy shit, that is soours. Sour Patch Kids and Cokes.”

“Every day that summer,” I said, grinning as I remembered our obsession with—

“Remember how we’d just binge episodes ofBig Time Rushfor hours on end?”

“I was just about to say that,” I said, laughing. Technically I’d known Nekesa for only a few years, but we’d been inseparable since that first day together in Mr. Peek’s gym class, aka Toxic Masculinity 101, where she’d spiked a ball right at Cal Hodge’s nose for saying “Looks like Bailey’s boobies came in.”

I still hate Cal Hodge.

“Ah, the simpler times, before we had cars.” Nekesa was chuckling, but then her smile faded away and she said, “Aw shit.”

“Aw shit, what?” I asked, still amused. “What is the shit?”

I followed her gaze to the door, and then I knew what the shit was.

Zack and Kelsie were there.Oh God.They were holding hands, and his head was bent down a little, so he could hear whatever shewas saying. She was smiling and he was smiling, and it felt like my heart was constricting in my chest.

They looked so fucking happy.

My stomach hurt as I watched them walk up to the counter. I couldn’t believe it. He really was takingherfor Saturday morning coffee. It was such a silly little thing, but my throat was tight because I missed him so much.

I misseduswhen we were together.

He put his hand on her lower back, and I could almost feel it onmyback because that was his go-to gesture whenever we were together.

“Let’s go,” Nekesa said, nudging my arm with her elbow. “I don’t like your face like this.”

That got my attention. I looked away from Zack and said, “What?”

She waved her hand in front of my face and said, “You look like a sad puppy when you see him. I think it’s my job, as your friend, to remove you from any situation that fucks up your face that way.”

I smiled in spite of my heart shattering. “You have no idea how much I love you for that, but can we wait until they go? I’d rather eat curdled milk than have to small-talk with them right now.”

“Eat?” She tilted her head and said, “Wouldn’t youdrinkcurdled milk?”

“You’d drink it if it was mildly curdled, but I was referring to long-forgotten, extra-chunky curds. You’d need a knife and a fork for this shit.”

“Of course.”

We waited until the happy couple left—thank God it was a to-go order—and then we took off. I was walking to her car, trying to shake off the sad and not think about them, when my phone buzzed.

Mom: Was I right?

I rolled my eyes and texted:Maybe.

Mom: Gah, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I called Jimmy Bob Graham’s prayer hotline and requested they pray for Zack’s bowels to loosen.

I snorted.You did not.

Mom: No, I did not, but now I shall.

I opened the passenger door and got into Nekesa’s car. Texted:What are you doing this morning, besides lying about prayer circles?

---