Page 110 of Maybe Meant to Be
We said goodbye on the MAC’s roof, of all places. “I can’t believe you guys,” Nick said as we took in the view, big and blue and beautiful. “Why didn’t you ever tell us about this place?” He gave Luke a look. “I thought we were bros, Q.”
I laughed. Nick had been calling LukeQsince we all went home to Darien one April weekend. We’d been in the Carmichaels’ basement watchingSkyfalltogether. “Holy shit.” Nick had paused the movie and pointed the remote at the screen, at Agent 007’s quartermaster. “That’syou, Luke.”
“So if Luke’s Q,” Charlie said now, “that means I’m Bond.”
Luke and I exchanged an eye roll from our beach chairs; he and Charlie had brought them up here earlier in the spring. There might’ve beenXafterXon their secret campus map, but I suspected this was truly their spot. They hadn’t forgotten to leave their mark:CCC + LGMwas tastefully written on a skylight (meanwhile, Nick and I’d stolen the sixth hole’s flag).
“No.” Nick shoved his twin. “Bond and Q aren’t a couple.”
Charlie shoved him back. “Yeah, they are.”
“Says who?”
“Certain people on the internet. You should see the GIFs.”
“Okay, you wish,” Nick said, and trapped Charlie in a headlock. I heard Luke release a deep sigh as they wrestled.
“You know, Sage,” he said. “I’ve discovered something.”
“Oh yeah?” I turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”
Then Luke Morrissey smirked at me, and in that deadpan delivery of his, said: “We have terrible taste in boyfriends.”
