Page 31 of A Bittersweet Summer

“I’ll need you both there,” she says. “Lennon to tell me if I look stupid, and Cass for moral support when I inevitably cry.”

Lennon winces. “I wouldn’t tell you that you looked stupid.”

“Yes, you would,” we say in unison, leading to a round of laughter.

“The venue is where I’m struggling,” Ellis says once the laughter dies down. “Everything is so expensive, and we are on a tight deadline. Maybe it was a mistake to wait this long to look.”

“Cass, your ex is rich. You don’t think you could guilt him for cheating to fork over some cash or connections?” Lennon asks, and I fold my arms across my chest, my stomach twisting to the point of nausea.

“Absolutely not,” I say. “I’ve erased all traces of Chad from my life. Besides, Gus would like you guys way more than he ever liked Chad’s rich friends. They all had this certain laugh.” My lip curls back in disgust at the memory. “It sounded rich and irritating all at the same time.”

“I love how you judge the wealthy,” Lennon jokes. “I aspire to this level of hatred for anyone with money.”

Ellis looks thoughtful, her head tilted to the side. “Who’s Gus?” she asks, and my twisting stomach folds itself into a paper swan and takes a nose dive straight toward the floor. I might as well be on a roller coaster at this point.

I know why I haven’t discussed my family with Lennon and Ellis. In the beginning, it was for the sake of compartmentalization. I’ve been struggling to be exactly what Gus needs me to be as of late. Things have felt strained—like I can’t keep my worry contained, and it keeps leaking out like a mystery liquid from the garbage.

I want him to be comfortable—I want him to feel normal around me, but I don’t know how to make that happen.

Maybe, instead of keeping my family at an arm's length away—hiding my pain, I should be what Wes called me—an open book. It would make more sense to be that with my friends than my boss.

“My brother,” I offer, wincing at the smothered surprise on their faces. “August. He’s—”

An idea comes to me, and instead of giving it another thought, I announce what I’m thinking. “What if I had a get-together here. A welcome party, so to speak. I’m sure Gus would want to come, then we can skip all of this, and you can just meet him.”

Ellis leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is Gus a murderer or something?”

“No more a murderer than Griffin was a year and a half ago.”

“What about Griffin?” The man himself says as he enters the doorway with the second half of my couch clutched tightly against him. Noah stands just outside, swapping places since it went so well the first go round.

“You’re not a murderer,” I say.

“You know,” Noah practically shouts. “You’re all doing a lot of standing around. I feel like I’ve been bamboozled.”

“I’m getting you all free pizza,” I offer, feeling somewhat guilty for spending the last ten minutes chatting.

Noah shakes his head once, sweat still dripping. “All’s forgiven,” he says with a strained smile.

“Good!” I pull out my phone, typing in the order I am now obligated to make. “Three large pizzas sound like enough?” I ask. “I’m willing to let the boys take the leftovers.”

“I’m in, then,” Griffin grunts, setting the couch down gently next to its other half.

When I’m done ordering our food, my thumb hovers over Gus’s number. Instead of fretting over what he will think about me inviting him to meet my friends, I click his name and type out a message.

Me:I’m having a housewarming party or whatever. I want you to meet my friends.

Three bubbles appear, disappear, and reappear.

I chew the end of my thumbnail as everyone folds onto the couch that now occupies my new living room.

When Gus’s text comes through, a grin breaks over my face.

Gus:Can I bring a girl?

Me:I knew it!

Me:And yes!