"I just don't get it, dude," Brandon said, handing his credit card to the young woman at the checkout. He had dragged me to the outlet mall to buy a limited edition pair of tennis shoes that cost nearly three hundred dollars. The hideous neon shoes would probably get worn a max of twice—if that—and be relegated to the back of his shoe closet with the rest of the exclusive, rare, or one-of-a-kind pairs that he couldn't live without.

"There's nothing to get," I said. I just wanted to leave the store. I hated the sharp, heavy scent of new leather and that disinfectant spray they put in the shoes to make sure no one was passing along their foot fungus to some poor unsuspecting soul.

Although, I didn't want to bump into Summer. She passed the storefront a few minutes ago, which was how we got onto this subject. Something I'd very much rather drop.

Brandon leaned back against the tall desk, propping his elbows up behind him. "You dated her for like three months. You guys really seemed to have a lot in common. What was the problem?"

"It just didn't work out." I examined the display on the counter to lure in impulse purchasers. I didn't want to keep rehashing my breakup. I thought I was done with this. "I don't even know why you care so much."

"Because I want you to be happy, man." Brandon tapped the back of his hand against my chest. "Just tell me. Was it the sex?"

I sucked in a breath. I looked at the salesclerk, her eyes already trained on me. Averting her gaze, she typed something into the register, swiping Brandon's card.

I stared at the carpet, bringing my foot back to balance it on the toe of my shoe, twisting it back and forth. My cheeks burned, surely turning my face a more audacious shade of maroon than the laces on Brandon's ugly shoes.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the salesclerk said, handing Brandon his receipt and his card. She looked directly at me when she said, "Come again soon."

Brandon barely acknowledged her before he flipped around and started walking toward the exit. I followed right on his heels.

"Excuse me," the cashier said, much too close than she ought to be.

We both stopped and turned. I assumed Brandon forgot something until the young woman offered one of the store's business cards to me. She had written her name and phone number above the store's name. "If you ever want to maybe hang out sometime, call me."

My mouth dropped open. I took the card, almost on autopilot. I didn't know what else to do. It would be rude to shove it back at her.

She smiled at me and whirled around, running back to her post.

Brandon threw his arm around my neck, laughing. He turned me around and dragged me out of the store into the heat. "You lucky son of a bitch. I was gonna come back through later and get her number for myself."

I flicked my hand out to the side, offering him the card. "Now you have it."

"Are you serious? You're not going to call her?" He clearly thought I was foolish for ignoring a sure-thing. I mean, yeah, she was pretty. But I wasn't attracted to her. I barely noticed her before I caught her staring at me.

"No!"

"It's been like a month since Summer dumped you. It's time to move on. Or at least have some awesome rebound sex. You just need to fuck someone new, and you'll be all good."

"I don't want to fuck someone new," I said, far too loudly.

Two gray-haired women walking past us offered matching disgruntled scowls of disapproval. I withered under their glares, stuffing my hands into my pockets, my shoulders slouching forward.

Brandon pulled away, sighing. "If you're still this bummed out over her, then why not try to fix things. I bet she'd take you back. I sit next to her in history and she's always staring at the back of your head."

I couldn't seem to make him understand. So, I put it as plainly as I knew how: "I don't want her back. I believe this is what's best for both of us. We weren't right for each other."

"That's what I don't get, though. You guys were always the ones having the most fun at every party. You had all those little inside jokes. And those stupid pet names. What am I missing?"

I wish I could tell him he was missing the fact that I was massively into someone else. But I couldn't say that. Brandon was the type to pry until he got all the details. If I said I had feelings for someone, he would hound me until I cracked. I certainly couldn't tell him I wanted to date a guy. A guy who was the only one who ever made me feel like a normal person.

"Can you just chill with the third degree, Bran? It didn't work out. That's all that matters."

Brandon shrugged. "Whatever. But she's not gonna be single forever, bro. She's hot. Some dude's going to come along and you'll be shit out of luck."

"I hope she does find someone else. I want her to be happy."

Brandon raised his arm to hang his bag over his back, shaking his head. "I just don't get you sometimes, man."

That made two of us.

A moment later, Brandon patted my arm to get my attention and pointed down the walkway. "Hey, isn't that your friend?"

As always, the sight of Emmett brought me an overwhelming rush of joy. I could feel my lips stretching into a grin without even thinking about it. He wore a well-fitted white t-shirt with REP printed across the chest, paired with tight black capri pants and checkerboard slip-on Vans.

Emmett hadn't noticed me yet. He was busy chatting with a redheaded girl I had never met. I suspected this was the Makenzie girl he'd mentioned a couple times.

I finally turned to look at Brandon, who was staring at me. My smile melted, leaving my lips hanging open. My chest constricted as all my breath escaped. I didn't know how long I'd been staring at Emmett. Or how long Brandon had been watching me stare at Emmett.

"What?" I asked, feigning a calmness I did not even remotely feel.

"Do you wanna go say hi?" If Brandon suspected anything, there was no hint of it in his voice. But why would he suspect anything? He thought I was straight. That's why he kept pushing me back to an existence of passionless numbness.

"I thought you wanted to shop," I said, seeking an excuse to escape. I worried Brandon might see through my facade. I was kind of nervous that he may have already.

Brandon showed me his bag, patting the box inside. "These are all I really wanted. Plus, I mostly just wanted to hang out with you."

"Oh." I chewed on my lip. Brandon's candor surprised me. I felt bad about being so annoyed that he finagled me into this outing when I just wanted to go home and take a nap after school let out. "I mean, I can see him anytime."

"You don't want to be rude to your friend though."

I glanced at Emmett. He had stopped walking. He was staring right at us with a huge smile. He waved when his eyes locked onto mine.

I offered a small embarrassed wave in return. I couldn't show too much enthusiasm. It was like that scene in Breaking Dawn: Part 1 where Bella is laying on the table still as a statue, but inside she's writhing in pain. Except on the inside, I was jumping up and down, screaming for joy.

"Now it really would be rude to ignore him," Brandon said, walking faster toward Emmett and the girl.

I kept pace beside my friend, pushing my hands into my pockets.

"Hey!" Emmett sounded extremely chipper.

"Hey," I said, trying to remain reserved and cool.

Emmett furrowed his brows, his smile faltering. Probably confused by my flippant attitude. Typically, I acted just as excited to see him.

"We never really officially met," Brandon said, introducing himself to Emmett.

"Nice to meet you." Emmett and Brandon shook hands. Emmett gestured to the tall, slender girl, who looked like she could be a ballerina. "This is my friend, Makenzie."

Brandon scanned Makenzie, offering his charming grin, his interest piqued. "And here I thought I knew all the beautiful girls in town."

Makenzie puckered her already pouty lips, batting her lashes. The attraction was obviously mutual.

"What are y'all up to?" I asked Emmett, noticing the choker around his neck. That was a brave choice. Wearing something like that around here was equivalent to holding a neon sign over his head blinking "GAY."

And maybe it was a little bit sexy on him. Maybe a little more than a little. Honestly, having the confidence to even wear something like that was a tremendous turn on.

"We were just headed down to grab a bite to eat." Emmett pointed to the restaurant down the way.

"Mind if we join?" Brandon asked, his eyes locked on Makenzie. "I'm starved."

"The more the merrier, I always say," Makenzie said.

"Yeah, that's like her catchphrase," Emmett said sarcastically. Neither Makenzie nor Brandon seemed to notice. It made me chuckle.

Brandon tore his eyes away from her, turning to me. "You're hungry, right, bro?" Though it sounded like a question, and he'd phrased it like a question, it was definitely not a question. I knew Brandon well enough to know that tone. The only acceptable answer was, "Yes."

While Makenzie and Brandon sauntered ahead, trading flirtatious remarks, Emmett and I trailed behind. Mostly because I was dragging my feet. If asked, I would say it was to give Brandon time to close the deal with Makenzie. Truthfully, I wanted time alone with Emmett. Possibly make up for being standoffish.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," I said.

It was three days, to be exact. Now that I was back at school, free time was harder to come by. It didn't help that Emmett had been busy every time I called. I was starting to think he was avoiding me.

"I know. Sorry about that."

"Are you still pissed at me for taking you hiking? I thought after we hung out on Sunday, you'd forgiven me for my impudence. I wouldn't want to be on your grudge list with that stingy lunch lady."

Emmett gave one of his rare genuine laughs. "I was never pissed. Just mildly annoyed."

"You called it homophobic, Emmett."

"We've known each other for almost a month, so by now you should know that I'm a lazy bitch who exaggerates for dramatic effect."

His statement surprised me so much, I burst out laughing, which made our friends look back at us. I blew out a breath to calm myself. I waited until Makenzie and Brandon became distracted to speak again: "I shouldn't have sprung that on you. I just thought you'd like the view."

"I did. It was amazing." Emmett reached his hand up to curl his fingers around my elbow, almost like he wanted to lock arms with me the way he had been with Makenzie. But he immediately dropped his hand back to his side. I missed the weight of his touch the moment it vanished.

I stared down at the ground, my eyes tracing a hairline crack in the pavement. I hoped the blush taking over my face wasn't evident in the bright sunlight.

The restaurant was part sports bar, part arcade. It was basically a low-rent Dave and Buster's knockoff. Huge televisions hung on every wall, playing every game in every sport currently airing. It smelled like smoky charcoal and beer. As the hostess (dressed in the equivalent of a sexy referee Halloween costume) showed us to our table, Brandon pulled me back. "Bro, take Emmett to play a game or something."

"Why?"

Brandon gave me an annoyed look. "I want to work on Makenzie. Unless you want a shot."

I shook my head. "She's all yours."

After putting in the order for drinks and some appetizers, I asked Emmett to follow me over to the arcade section.

The lunch crowd had long since gone, and the happy hour crew hadn't yet shown up, so the place was practically deserted. We had our choice of games.

Emmett pummeled me at skee ball, but he couldn't get the hang of the free throw basketball game.

"I suck!" Emmett grunted as the buzzer went off, ending his turn with zero points.

I loaded the machine with more tokens. "You just have poor form." I took a shot. The ball swished through the hoop and a bell sounded as the point counter switched to one.

"How do you do that?"

I had an idea. It was probably dumb and very corny, and it certainly pushed all the boundaries of male friendship, but I couldn't help myself. "I can show you." I held the ball out to Emmett.

When Emmett stepped in front of the game, ball in hand, I got behind him and pressed my chest against his shoulders. He turned his head slightly to meet my eyes. "What now?"

"Are you right or left-handed?"

"Left."

"Okay. Spread your legs a little more. Bring this one back a bit." I gripped Emmett's right leg, pulling it back so his left foot was slightly forward.

"Raise your arms," I said softly.

Emmett did as he was told. I instructed him on proper hand and arm positioning, laying my hand on top of his on the ball. Another inch closer and our cheeks would touch. "Now push the ball forward with your wrist so that it makes an arc. And just let the ball roll off your fingertips."

Emmett took the shot. The ball sailed through the hoop. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, shaking him in celebration. "You did it!"

Emmett laughed, gripping my forearms. "I think that was mostly you."

"No. You did that."

Emmett pulled away and turned to face me. "Do you really think I could've made that without you puppeteering me?"

"Try it."

Emmett picked up another ball and got into position. Without thinking, I stepped up again and put my hands on his hips.

When Emmett released the ball this time, it hit the backboard and bounced against the rim before dropping to the bottom and spiraling into the collection hole. Emmett twisted his waist toward me and grinned. "See?"

"You gotta admit, that was much closer than any of your previous attempts."

Emmett rolled his eyes. He draped his arm across my shoulder, bringing his face very close to mine. We were almost in the perfect position to kiss. "Whatever you say."

"Hey, guys," Brandon said, drawing our attention from our bantering, which I thought felt very flirty. Or maybe I was just projecting that onto the situation because that's what I wanted it to be.

I dropped my hands and took a step back, out of Emmett's reach. "I was teaching him how to shoot baskets."

"Food's here." Brandon pointed his thumb over his shoulder before turning away and heading back to the table.

Emmett smiled at me again as we followed Brandon. I barely said a word throughout the meal, offering monosyllabic answers whenever they caught me without food in my mouth. I ate way too much, trying to avoid having to speak.

After we finished, Brandon and I went back to his truck, while Makenzie and Emmett headed off to check out the sales they came for. The blazing leather seats seared the backs of my legs. Sweat drenched my back to combat the scorching leather. I nearly burned my finger when I pulled out the seatbelt hook.

"Emmett's pretty cool," Brandon said, cranking the engine. A blast of warm air shot from the vents before instantly turning cold.

"Yeah," I mumbled, giving a half shrug.

"Did you know he's gay?"

My head snapped to the side to stare at Brandon. All the air escaped my lungs at once. A chill shot through my veins despite the heat. "Why?"

Did Brandon know? Could he sense my feelings? Had he seen the way I held Emmett much too close during that free throw tutorial? He definitely saw the affectionate aftermath.

"Makenzie told me when I asked if her and him were a thing. I just didn't know if you knew."

"I did. But it doesn't matter to me. Does it bother you?"

My question was more about gauging Brandon's thoughts on the subject than about Emmett personally. After all, I had been having some seriously not-so-straight thoughts lately. I wondered if my friend would still accept me if he knew about it.

Brandon shrugged. "I honestly couldn't care less who someone else wants to fuck. As long as I get mine."

"Speaking of which," I said. I couldn't bring myself to talk about this anymore. I was having palpitations, which would soon lead to a panic attack if I didn't get my mind off it. "You and Makenzie. Is that a thing?"

"Might be. I got her number." Brandon cracked a mischievous smile and glanced over at me before turning his eyes back to the road. "She's seriously hot, right?"

She was a beautiful girl, but, like the salesclerk and Summer, she did nothing for me.

Still, I couldn't let the question go unanswered. Especially not after what we'd just talked about and what Brandon saw, even if it was innocent. So, I mumbled, "Totally."