Page 115 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

I blinked, taking it all in.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself.

I turned a corner—and stopped.

There, tucked into one side of the rooftop like a chaotic afterthought, was a bright blue kiddie pool… filled with gays, of course.

Water sloshed over the edges as a group of them laughed, splashing at each other, already soaked, their energy loud and unfiltered. Someone raised a drink in the air, singing to Carly Rae Jepsen like they were in a music video.

I stared for a second longer than necessary.

The undies make sense now, I said to myself.

The place was alive. Not just loud, but palpable. Like the air itself was charged—buzzing with anticipation, with the kind of energy that only came from a countdown everyone was waiting to feel in their chest.

I scanned the crowd, craning my neck slightly.

“Erl! Seph!” I shouted over the music, weaving my way through clusters of homosexuals, dodging an overenthusiastic dancer and someone mid-selfie.

It took another minute before I reached them at the bar.

Of course they were at the bar.

Erl saw me first. His face lit up like I was the main event.

“Babe!”

Seph turned immediately, following his gaze—and then they both shrieked.

I barely had the time to react before they were pulling me in from both sides, gripping my arms like I had just returned from war instead of… you know… arriving thirty minutes late.

“You made it!” Seph said, eyes scanning me up and down like he was doing a full inspection.

“Obviously!” I said. “You said there would be bears, so I came.”

Erl clutched his chest. “And there are. I nearly passed out twice.”

“I saw one earlier,” Seph cut in. “Six foot, thick, bearded, emotionally unavailable—I love it!”

I gave him a look. “Why is that always part of the appeal?”

“We’re gays,” Erl said. “We’re afraid of stability!”

We laughed—the kind that came easy and automatic.

For the first time in a few months, nothing crossed my mind. Not the hurt. Not the effort it took to get over someone. Not Victor.

I could’ve sworn I felt normal… again.

Seph leaned in closer. “Okay, serious question. If a man proposes to you at exactly midnight, do you say yes or do you pretend you didn’t hear him?”

“I’d say yes,” Erl answered before I could. “I desperately need emotional security.”

“I knew it,” I said, pointing at him like he’d committed a crime. “No standards!”

“High standards,” Erl corrected. “Just… flexible when necessary.”

Seph suddenly grabbed Erl’s arm, eyes widening. “Oh my God. Twelve o’clock. By the speakers.”