I can tell Finn has successfully assured the other guys that we aren’t approaching Awkward Group Dynamic territory when Ansel comes to join Mia, looping a long arm around her shoulders. He squeezes her to his side before bending for a kiss. She’s so petite, and he’s so tall, that the effect is pretty comical; Mia practically disappears from my view for the length of it.

“Did you guys need some privacy?” I ask.

Ansel speaks against her mouth. “That would be wonderful, thank you. Order everyone away.”

Laughing, I shove his shoulder playfully and he pulls her back up, steadying her. She presses two fingers to her lips as she stares up at him, flushed and a little breathless, and for just a beat—only a teeny, tiny heartbeat—I want what they have so intensely it makes my chest pinch.

And then it’s gone.

“We’re thinking of grabbing some lunch,” Finn says from behind me, and—dammit!—that tiny spike of heat jabs right back through my chest. Mia’s gaze zeros in on my face to gauge my reaction. He’s standing directly behind me and I widen my eyes, telling her with my expression, It’s fine. I’m perfectly fine.

“We only got here fifteen minutes ago,” I tell him, slowly turning. Slow, and cool. “Shouldn’t we stay a little longer?”

He looks around meaningfully. “This place is packed. Friends show up to these things to fill space. We’re just in the way now.”

I should go with them, and I’m sure it would be fun, but I really want to be home, pretending not to hover over my mom.

“Are you leaving tonight or tomorrow?” I ask him.

“Um.” He glances at Ansel, who has tilted his head and is wearing the world’s most hilarious expression of amused expectation. Mia is staring at me wide-eyed, as if I’m a grenade and Finn is about to remove my pin.

He reaches up to scratch his jaw. “I’m actually staying with Oliver for the next couple weeks.”

MY THOUGHTS ARE stacked like a deck of cards and I have to continually shuffle the top one to the back of the pile.

I can’t obsess about Mom’s surgery on Monday. I can’t think about the possibility of more sexcapades with Finn. I don’t want to shop. I don’t want to surf. I don’t want to eat. And my part-time job is a joke. So, I go to my parents’ house on Saturday afternoon, change into my bathing suit, and head out to the pool to swim until my limbs are like noodles. At least there I can be close by, but not hovering.