I fight the urge to look down. “Yes. I need to figure some stuff out,” I say. “This feels like the best way.”

“Hmm,” she says, nodding.

“I just need some time away. With old friends,” I say, deciding not to delve into Hannah’s and Lainey’s issues. I know that angle will fall as flat with her as it did with my father.

“Everyone has stuff to figure out, Tyson. We can’t just run away from our problems.”

“I’m not running away. I’m just taking a little time for myself.”

“Okay. Well, you’re grown,” she says with a sigh. “It’s your life.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to be upset with me—”

“I’m not upset. But I am worried. And a bit disappointed.”

“Please don’t worry, Mom,” I say, although her disappointment is what hits me the hardest. I can’t stand letting my mother down. For some reason, it feels even worse than letting my father down.

“I’m your mother. Worrying is part of the job, Tyson,” she says.

“I know. And I’m really sorry. But it’s all going to be fine.”

She gives me a look, then says, “It won’t be fine with Nicole. You realize that, right? She’s not going to sit around and wait for you.”

“It’s already over with Nicole, Mom. It was over the minute I went down to Atlanta.”

“Well, it will be even more over if you go on this trip. Death-knell over.”

“I know,” I say, nodding, although a small part of me thinks that if we were really meant to be, we could overcome just about anything.

She stares at me a long time, then says, “Can I ask you a question?”

I nod, bracing myself, somehow knowing it will be a challenging question without an easy answer.

Sure enough, she says, “Does this trip have anything to do with Summer?”

I look at her, shocked. It’s been years since we’ve discussed Summer.

My throat tightens as I slowly nod. “In some ways, yes,” I say.

She holds my gaze, looking deep in thought.

“You can’t change the past, Tyson,” she says.

“True. But I can learn from it.”

She gives me a curious look, then says, “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I need to do this,” I say, treading carefully.

“And you need to do it with Lainey and Hannah?” she says. “You have so many other friends who might be able to support you more.”

I nod, knowing what she’s getting at—that I have Black friends who are more settled and arguably better equipped than Hannah and Lainey to understand me.

“I know, Mom,” I say. “But I made a promise to them. And to myself.”

She nods, then says, “Well, I’m proud of you for being a man of your word. You’re a good friend.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“Maybe not the best boyfriend,” she says with a smile. “But a good friend.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Nicole. I know how much you like her.”

“I do,” she says. “But maybe not for the reasons you think…I just know how much she loves you.”

“She told you that?” I ask, surprised.

“Not exactly. But she understands that you have some unresolved emotions,” she says, confirming that the two of them have recently talked. “And she really wants what’s best for you. That’s love.”

“Dang,” I say under my breath.

“And for the record,” my mother says. “I want that for you, too.”

Chapter 9

Lainey

It’s only been a few days since I left Atlanta, but it feels like much longer, perhaps because I’ve been on a bit of a bender since I last saw my friends. I didn’t plan on that happening, but after digging around on the internet and finding all sorts of nuggets on my sisters, including Ashley’s sappy wedding announcement, I got a little triggered. Drinking helped calm me down.

Last night with Marcus, aka Neighbor Guy, was a particular doozy. We started out at Socialista, a Cuban-inspired cocktail lounge in SoHo; then moved on to the Wiggle Room, a nightclub in the East Village; then Musica, which I only remembered after seeing the photos on my phone. This morning, I woke up in his bed, my clothes nowhere to be found. I must have undressed in my apartment, but I have no idea how I got down the hall without them.

Somehow, though, I managed to make my flight to Dallas. As I sit on the plane now, I order a Bloody Mary—a little hair of the dog—which takes the edge off not only my hangover but also my anxiety about what’s to come.

I still can’t believe Hannah convinced me to go to Texas. I know she has a pure heart and the best intentions, but I can’t help having second thoughts about the mission. I tell myself that I’m not locked into anything other than a couple nights at a luxury hotel. I’ll be able to sort the rest out after we check in and if need be, to talk my friends out of this half-baked plan.

—

My flight lands slightly after Tyson’s and Hannah’s, and when I get to baggage claim, they are waiting for me, Starbucks in hand.

“Dallas in June!” I say as they hug me. “Everyone’s dream destination!”

Hannah smiles, looking sheepish, while Tyson says, “C’mon, now. Positive attitude.”

“Yep. Just call me Pollyanna!” I say, eyeing the carousel as luggage starts to drop from the chute.

“So do we have a plan?” Tyson asks, looking at me, then Hannah.

“Well…I confirmed the addresses,” I say, feeling squeamish.