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It was all so new, so confusing. Honestly, it was probably just my imagination. Ben wasn’t into me, had never been into me, and would never be into me. We were best friends, that’s all.
Ben had clearly met someone new on Mangle, and—
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, diverting my attention. Ben’s name flashed across the screen, and my heart skipped a beat.
Ben: Do you still want to come over tonight?
Fuck, that’s right. He was gonna work on my laptop. I hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential implications of accepting his invitation. On the one hand, I went over to his house at least a couple of times a month. It was no big deal. This whole idea that I had of Ben being interested in me was probably just my imagination.
On the other hand—if this was happening, then we needed to talk about it.
If Ben had feelings for me.
If I had feelings for Ben.
I typed my reply.
Me: Only if I’m not bothering you.
Ben’s response came swiftly.
Ben: Never a bother. I’ll be home anytime after 5.
My first thought was—who was Ben going to be with before five?
I stood up and dropped my plate off in the sink, shaking my head at these stupid thoughts. Why was I feeling jealous about where Ben was spending his day? It wasn’t any of my business. Most likely Ben had just met someone new that he was interested in, and I was just being delusional with these self-perceived “intense gazes” aimed at me.
But deep down, it did matter to me. Ben and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember. We had shared countless memories together, supported each other through tough times, and built a bond so strong that it felt unbreakable.
I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Mangle or no Mangle, we’d figure this out, and hopefully just laugh about it before deleting that stupid app.
I arrived at Ben’s small house in north Austin that evening, greeted by the sound of crickets singing their nightly symphony. Ben opened the front door for me, a spatula in his hand. “Hey. Hope you’re hungry.”
“You know I’ve never missed a meal,” I joked, following him inside with my laptop case in hand.
I’d always loved Ben’s small house. Neat and minimalist, just like Ben, and the opposite of my constantly expanding sprawl. “Need any help?” I offered, trying to quell the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me as the comforting scent of burgers wafted in from the backyard grill.
“Just get the plates out and grab me another beer. I’m gonna pull yours off the heat now while they’re still mooing,” he said with a knowing grin, an inside joke years in the making.
“Thanks. I know you like yours bone dry and overdone.” I set my ancient computer on the kitchen table. “Thanks again for doing this. I know you probably have better things to do on a Sunday night.”
Ben glanced at me with a soft smile that made my heart stop. “Not a problem, Leo. I’ll be right back.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. Was I crazy or really seeing something there? Was Ben just being polite? His smile felt different, like there was a hint of something deeper behind it.
I didn’t trust myself, and the one person who I’d normally talk to about this was the one making me feel like a teenager again, trying to figure out if that girl over there was just being nice or if she was flirting with me.
Fuck, this wasn’t any easier with men than it was with women.
As much time as I’d spent over here, Ben’s kitchen was as familiar to me as my own. In the fridge, I found a plate with lettuce, tomatoes, and sliced cheese, so I set it on the counter, gathering everything needed for our burgers and two fresh beers.
As I finished setting up the table, my mind wandered back to the Mangle app. It had been both a blessing and a curse—showing me a world where Ben and I could be perfect for each other, while also making me question whether it was all in my head.
We ate in comfortable silence, the clinking of silverware against plates as the only sound. Ben’s fingers occasionally tapped on the keyboard of my laptop, his mind never truly at rest. I wondered how he juggled his own work alongside his never-ending willingness to help me out.
“Is Maya recovering from last night?” Ben asked, a mischievous smile curving his lips.
I grinned. “She had quite a bit of wine, yes, but she really enjoyed herself. There was a good turnout. Oh, she was glad you made it.” The party was an easy topic to discuss, and I was grateful for it.
