Wes’s brand-new tux shirt is ruined.
It only took five hours before he managed to get a Rorschach-style wine stain on it. Forget his boutonnière—that’s a casualty of the dance floor and the DJ’s obsession with replaying that wobble song. He survived an entire best man speech too. The stain came from Grace getting hammered and bumping into him on the way to the bathroom.
But at least the wedding’s done.
Leeann Chen is officially a Hudson. Leo’s married. And Wes needs a nap.
Also, Wes’s phone is missing. Not missing. Taken. Heisted. It’s currently owned by Cooper Shaw, who leads their pack into Little Tony’s Big Slice, gossiping with Savannah Kirk on FaceTime.
“Is she really that bad?” Cooper asks, awed.
“The worst,” Savannah announces. “Keep the bourbon away from that one.”
Wes should never have introduced them.
Ella, in a green polka-dot dress, fedora, and large dark sunglasses, makes a beeline for their favorite booth in the back. She shuffles in, bookended by Zay and Wes. It took a lot of convincing, but Wes managed to talk Leeann into bumping a few guests off the reception list to make room for his friends. Ella even brought a gift.
The card read, “To Leeann and Lucifer—may your reign in the Underworld be forever long.”
“What was that menu?” moans Ella, tugging off her sunglasses. “Did they want us to starve at the reception?”
“I thought the chicken was good,” Zay says, passing out the plastic menus as if they’re going to order anything other than the usual. His hair’s cut short, a few waves at the top the only remains of his sick, curly Afro. Wes still hasn’t adjusted to it. But it’s also a reminder that more than Zay’s hair has changed in a year.
“I can’t believe you caught the bouquet,” Ella says accusingly to Kyra.
Kyra has one arm resting lazily on Anna’s bare shoulders, scanning the menu.
“That means you two are next,” Zay teases.
Anna blushes from her hairline to her collarbones. But Kyra smirks, then says, “Don’t jinx it,” before pressing a loud kiss to Anna’s cheek.
Wes is happy they’re still a thing. Next to him, Nico finds Wes’s hand under the table. Wes’s glad they’re still a thing too. A capitalized Thing.
“Can we hurry up and order? I can’t be out too late,” Zay says, repeatedly flipping his menu. “My moms have been on me about studying. I’m taking this summer course—”
Everyone groans. Zay graduated high school early. He started UCLA in the winter and is living his nerdish-musicology wet dreams by taking two summer classes. He’s on a mission to finish college before he’s twenty-two. Wes supports it.
In fact, he’s behind all their decisions since Once Upon a Page closed.
Cooper’s living his best life as a soon-to-be high school senior. He’s up at least two hundred thousand social media followers thanks to a certain Savannah Kirk giving him a follow and commenting on all his Bookstagram posts. There’s no blue checkmark next to his name yet, but Wes is betting on @coopsarrow being verified before the year’s over.
Kyra quit Brews and Views. “Can’t make a living when two competing coffeehouses are on the same block,” she texted him a few months ago. “Who the hell does that? Fuck the Tea Leaf and Coffee Cup House.” She has one more semester in the fall before graduation. In the meantime, she rakes in loads of cash as an online gamer. She’s also moved in with Anna, who’s a bank manager.
Huh. Wes didn’t think she’d really pull it off.
“Yeah, whatever,” Ella says to Zay. “Be a nerd. I have a date tonight, anyway.”
Wes sputters. “A date-date?”
Ella rolls her eyes. “Here we go again.”
Yup. Here we go again.
Since he’s left UCLA, Wes no longer gets daily updates on Ella’s social life over sandwiches at Fat Sal’s. But before Wes can interrogate her, their waiter arrives with a tray of waters and a sour expression.
Constantine sighs. “Do you all need a mo’ to figure out what you’re having or what?”
“Artichoke or spinach?” Cooper asks the table.
“I’m thinking bacon,” Zay says. “Bacon’s life.”
“Babe, veggie or Hawaiian?” Kyra says to Anna as they huddle over a menu.
“So.” Constantine digs the heel of his hand into his eye socket the same way Wes’s dad does when he’s getting a stress headache. “Can we not give me hell tonight? I have plans afterward.”
“Hey.” Ella wriggles in her seat, back arched, her cheek resting against her knuckles. “Can you give us a sec? Five minutes, tops. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
And then, she winks. Constantine’s a new shade of red. Wes’s eyes widen, mouth falling open, but Constantine says, “Sure,” and then spins around and walks off.
“No. Shit.”
Ella pinches Wes’s thigh hard under the table. He yelps, nearly knocking over all the waters.
“Ella Graham, are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.
“Shut. Up.” Ella’s eyes are soft; her lips are pulled into a sweet, self-conscious smile. It’s peak Pining Wes Hudson. His brain can’t digest it. But Wes decides not to grill her.
She deserves this moment with no judgment.
Wes turns to Nico, who wiggles his eyebrows knowingly. Nico never misses anything. Well, except that One Thing. Wes kisses him. They see each other every other weekend, but Wes has missed him. He looks incredible in an all-black tux with a rose-colored bow tie. His hair’s slicked back with a single curl falling across his forehead, à la his prom look.
Wes also kisses Nico just because he can, as a boyfriend.
It’s become Wes’s favorite word. Boyfriend. He’s made a list of ways to say it in other languages.
“How’s the job?” Nico asks quietly.
“Ugh.”
After an entire year and probably too much debt amassed, Wes is taking a gap year from UCLA. It wasn’t that he failed. He just wasn’t ready. Both his parents assured him that was okay. Leo did too.
Wes has moved back into the loft. He has a summer job working at his dad’s Santa Monica restaurant. Waiter. Busboy. Assisting in the kitchen. Whatever Calvin needs. It’s at least earning him gas money—Leo gave him his old car in exchange for promising to help plan Leeann’s baby shower when the time comes—and an opportunity to think.
It’s the universe’s gift to Wes—a chance to figure himself out without any distractions.
Leaving Ella was hard, but they’ve adjusted.
“The worst thing you could do in this life is live it without ever knowing who you are,” she said.
Wes thinks she stole that from her therapist.
“Has anyone been by the new shop since…” Zay trails off.
Around the table, everyone shares looks—sad, confused, and indifferent ones. This is one thing they don’t talk about.
Wes shrugs, then says, “I’ve visited Lucas a few times.”
Cooper nods. “We hang out there all the time after school, before their shift.”
“I got an iced coffee the other day,” Anna says. “Horrible.”
“Told you,” Kyra says smugly.
“Their book selections need work. They’re showcasing the wrong stuff,” Ella huffs.
Wes side-eyes her. He knows Lucas only has a small voice in what’s featured in Mrs. Rossi’s Book Corner, but they’re trying. Secretly, he’s certain Ella just wants a summer job bossing around young baristas and pissing off entitled customers. The usual.
But this is nice too. They’re not tiptoeing around the fact that Once Upon a Page is gone. Their second home has been turned into a luxury apartment building with all the amenities and none of the heart that made the bookstore the soul of this community. But they’re letting go.
“I heard there’s a new indie bookshop opening up a few blocks away,” Anna mentions.
Wes knows. He’s already put in an online application. So he’s mostly learned to let things go. But he loved life in a bookstore. He loves the things it gave him and the things he was able to give in return.
Zay raises his water. “To Mrs. Rossi.”
It’s quiet for a moment. They’re all accepting that Once Upon a Page’s not the only thing that’s gone.
Wes stares resolutely at the Formica table. It’s only been five months since the funeral, but it still aches like yesterday. Wes now owns two suits. He’ll never wear either of them again. But he made it through the beautiful ceremony. He sat next to Mr. Rossi, holding his hand. He fought back tears, but only until Nico cornered him before the burial.
“It’s not her. Her hair’s not pink,” he whimpered into Nico’s shoulder. “They didn’t even give her that.”
She died in her sleep. She died living the last of her days reading, sitting in the sun, and being with her husband.
Wes clears his throat, then lifts his glass. “To Patty Rossi,” he finally says. “She changed our lives.”
Ella adds, softly, “She was a fighter.”
They clink their glasses. Anna sniffles into a napkin. Nico drags his knuckles across his puffy, wet eyes. It’s surreal. They’re toasting Mrs. Rossi and the bookstore and all the things they can’t take with them. Except the memories.
Wes will never leave those behind.
Constantine returns, brooding, but Wes now knows it’s only for show. Constantine and Ella are posers. One day, he’ll call them on their bullshit. “I put in an order for two pepperonis, a Hawaiian, and a veggie,” he announces. “And a pitcher of Coke. Anything else?”
“The complimentary breadsticks,” Ella reminds him.
Constantine stomps away, offering their table a one-fingered salute.
Wes yawns. It’s almost eleven o’clock on a Saturday, and he’s exhausted. Is this adulthood? Is this what he has to look forward to? In bed before midnight on a weekend? This is a tragedy.
He rests his head on Nico’s shoulder. A dry kiss is pressed to his temple.
Across the table, Cooper hums something. It’s familiar. It’s also terrible.
“Coop.” Wes’s face wrinkles. “No. I’m embarrassed for you.”
“What? Come on,” Cooper tries to argue, but Wes is not having it.
“You have shamed your family,” Wes accuses teasingly. “Semisonic? Gross.”
“It’s a classic,” Cooper insists. The pizzeria’s speakers hum to life as “Closing Time” fills in all the spaces between the empty tables and forgotten pitchers of beer and the heavy scent of baking bread.
Wes rolls his eyes, beaming. “Ohmygod, Canceled, dude.”
They all laugh. And Wes breathes easy, adding one more item to his list of things he loves most about Santa Monica.
THE END.