Page 19

Spencer got into Cat’s truck and handed her the cardboard container that held her meatball grinder and fries from Angelina’s.

“You look suspicious.”

“I look what?”

Spencer took a bite of his own meatball grinder. He probably looked something. He’d been thinking about Ian’s proposal all weekend.

She just eyed him over her food.

“Have you ever been in a nonmonogamous relationship?”

he blurted before sticking the grinder back in his mouth.

Cat blinked. “Sure. Remember Lizzie?”

“I thought Lizzie cheated on you.”

Cat rolled her eyes at him while she chewed. “Being nonmonogamous doesn’t mean you can’t cheat. We had a boundary about not sleeping with friends, and she slept with . . . many of our friends.”

“Oh.”

Spencer had really not ever thought about any of this before. He tried to think back on the times he’d hung out with Cat and Lizzie and whether he’d noticed anything different about their dynamic, but he came up blank.

“Why?”

Her tone suggested she had at least a sneaking suspicion why. Damn Cat and all the ways she knew him.

“Ian and I are dating,”

he started.

“I know.”

She fiddled with the air-conditioning vents, looking unimpressed.

“No, like, boyfriends dating.”

“Fuck, Spence.”

She slapped him on the arm. “That’s great.”

Spencer winced. “Yeah, I think it might be. But he, uh, asked if I wanted to be monogamous or not and said it was up to me.”

He stared out the windshield like the Brown Street house’s driveway held the secrets to the universe.

“Well, what do you want?”

Cat asked like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Spencer sighed. “I have no idea. I thought being monogamous was just what you do.”

“It’s what some people do. But you’re an adult. You get to decide what you do.”

Being an adult was kind of too much sometimes. “It didn’t bother you? Knowing Lizzie slept with other people? Before she lied and shit, that is.”

Cat shook her head, her curly ponytail bouncing off her face. “Nope. For me, a relationship is about spending time and energy and attention. And if I get the amount of that I want and the other person still has more of it to give, what do I care who they give it to?”

“Hmm.”

Spencer had never considered himself a particularly jealous person, but he’d also never thought about it that way. What did he even think a relationship was? The things Ian had said, definitely—hanging out and being in each other’s circles and sex, ideally. And what Cat had said—time and attention. And safety.

“Do you think it would bother you? If Ian was with someone else?”

That was the question he’d been asking himself over and over. “My gut feeling is no, but I don’t know why I think that? Like, I know I’m supposed to be bothered by the idea.”

“Spence, the same people who want you to be bothered by that idea also don’t want you to stick your dick in men.”

“Cat, oh my god.”

He threw a fry at her.

“Hey, no littering in the truck!”

She picked it up off the floorboard and tossed it into the plastic bag their food had come in.

“I mean, I like sleeping with hot men. I don’t see why Ian shouldn’t. Really, who doesn’t?”

“Um . . .”

He threw another fry, and this time she threw it back. “Sorry, we’re not talking about your lesbian ass right now.”

Cat paused their food fight and looked him in the eye. “I’m happy for you, Spence. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Do you think I should be concerned . . . that he’s white?”

Cat chewed a fry thoughtfully. “Are you concerned that he’s white?”

Spencer would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it at all, but his ex had been from a fairly traditional Chinese American family, and that certainly hadn’t guaranteed him any happiness. “Not specifically, I guess, except for, you know, the world.”

The sound Cat made in response was highly undignified. “Yeah, except for that.”

“Do you imagine yourself with someone Mexican?” he asked.

She tapped the steering wheel a few times. “I imagine myself with someone who fits into my life—the parts of it that are culturally Mexican, sure, but also the parts of it that are just me. I guess on some level their being Mexican might make it easier. But nothing about family is easy. Especially nothing about being from an immigrant family. I think it would be enough for me if they’d try to get it.”

Spencer thought about it. He certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being the most culturally Chinese person on the planet. But it was a part of him that was impossible to ignore, and he didn’t want to ignore it. He couldn’t imagine Ian asking him to. Ian was already fitting so seamlessly into his life. Spencer could definitely imagine him trying to get it.

Then his phone buzzed loudly on the dashboard. He opened a text from Ian to find a screenshot of STI-test results.

“What’s that?”

Cat asked with a mouthful of fries.

“Absolutely none of your business.”

Spencer tilted his phone away from her to reply. You got that done fast.

The benefit of knowing a bunch of people who can draw blood, Ian replied quickly. Spencer could imagine him sitting in the hospital break room smiling smugly to himself.

I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon because I am a plebeian who has to schedule my medical care.

No pressure.

Spencer smiled to himself.

“Ew, is it Ian? You look so mushy,”

Cat teased.

“I’m going to shove you out of this truck.”

Cat snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”