What If It's Us (What If It's Us #1)

by Becky Albertalli

I am not a New Yorker, and I want to go home.

But twenty points to Gryffindor, because I manage to smile up at him.

I just think you’re meant to meet some people. I think the universe nudges them into your path.

“That’s a big package.”

It’s weird—now I want to prove it. I want some gay ID card to whip out like a cop badge. Or I could demonstrate in other ways. God. I would happily demonstrate.

“Guess that’s the universe saying I should hold on to it.” The universe. Holy shit. He’s a believer. He believes in the universe. And I don’t want to jump to conclusions or anything, but Box Boy believing in the universe is definitely a sign from the universe.

“On the sad scale, how are you feeling today?” Dylan asks. “Opening-montage-of-Up sad? Or Nemo’s-mom-dying sad?” “Whoa, no. Definitely not opening-montage-of-Up sad. That shit was devastating. I’d guess I’m somewhere in between, like last-five-minutes-of-Toy-Story-3 sad. I just need time to bounce back.”

“Anyway. I walked past Kool Koffee, which I have avoided forever because you know I don’t find cutesy spellings cute, and she stepped outside to throw away some trash and I became trash for her.” “As you do.”

“Let’s talk about why you really didn’t mail the breakup box,” Dylan says, like he’s going to bill me for this conversation. “Only if you drop the therapist voice,” I say. “Maybe we can begin with why my tone bothers you. Do I remind you of an authority figure?”

I have to let off some steam before homework, so I open up my self-insert fantasy novel that I’ve been working on since January.

And yes, it could be a solidarity thing, like some kind of Kinsey scale Sorting Hat. “Better be . . . GAY!!!!!!” *cue cheers and rainbow flag waving from Hudson of Gay House*

And I let Jonathan Groff drown them out. Because that’s what cute boys are for.

The coffee shop smells like pretentious writers who would hate the stuff I write.

I’m certain that I’m 100 percent gay because if I was even 1 percent bisexual I would be crushing hard on Samantha for looks and high energy alone. Dylan watches Samantha as if she were glowing, and I wonder when I went dim for Hudson. If I ever really glowed for him at all.

“Right. Okay. If you’re not going to speak from the dick, I think you should speak from the heart. That seems like the next logical step.”

I have a date. A date. With Ben. I’m dating Ben. And dear God. Dear universe. Holy fucking shit.

I guess that’s any relationship. You start with nothing and maybe end with everything.

First kiss would happen next to my birthday twin and forever president, Barack Obama.

“All history should be taught through rap by Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“So is this a fifth first date?” “Second date, Arthur.” “Wow. Second date. We finally got there.” “How lucky we are to be alive right now, right?” “Oh my god, you’re speaking Hamilton—I’m just so into you. I’m helpless.” I’m so into him too.

But maybe this isn’t how life works. Maybe it’s all about people coming into your life for a little while and you take what they give you and use it on your next friendship or relationship. And if you’re lucky, maybe some people pop back in after you thought they were gone for good.