Chatter resumed around them as Mateo and Caleb continued to stare each other down.

“Did you enjoy the cake, Caleb?” Mateo asked.

Caleb sniffed. “You know I can’t eat that.”

“Shame.” Mateo popped a bite into his mouth.

They glared for another beat before Betty cleared her throat. “Okay, so … we have to be out of here by nine, but let’s go down to the cabin for presents.”

“Presents?” Archer asked. “You guys, this is too much!”

Caleb gave him a warm smile, the chill of the moment gone. “Of course you need presents!”

Mateo muttered something under his breath that Archer couldn’t quite catch.

They cleaned up their decorations and trooped down to the cabin, Archer carefully transporting the rest of the cake. “Why did you make that comment about Mateo having time to bake now?” Archer whispered when he and Caleb were mostly alone on the path.

Caleb rolled his eyes. “I was joking.”

“But that’s, like … not really something to joke about.”

“Mateo is a big boy. He can take it and dish it out as good.”

“Maybe, but—”

“Don’t worry about Mateo, Archer.” Caleb smiled at him, the sunlight poking through the trees and giving his skin a burnished glow. “It’s your birthday!”

They settled around the couches in their usual Game Night positions, and Betty presented Archer with a pair of vintage sunglasses from the boutique in Hallfield—large, square aviators with gold-tinged lenses.

“Those look amazing on you!” Betty announced when Archer tried them on. “The gold goes so well with your hair.”

“Thank you, I love them,” Archer told her.

The group put a wad of money into the beer fund to cover him for the next month, then Mateo handed him a small, flat paper bag stamped with purple flowers. “It’s just something small,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I saw it on Sunday when we were in town.”

It felt like a book, but when Archer reached in, his fingers first brushed a smaller square of paper. He slid it out of the bag and unwrapped the purple tissue to reveal a fridge magnet—a little wedge of pie that said LIFE IS SWEET IN HALLFIELD in a round script.

His heart squeezed, emotion welling up his throat. “Aw, that’s so cute, Mateo. Thank you.”

Mateo shrugged. “I thought it would be a fun memento.”

“It will be, thank you.” Unexpected tears pricked Archer’s eyes. He reached into the bag again, head down, and pulled out an old illustrated copy of The Hobbit. His jaw dropped.

“And I found that at the used bookstore, if you can believe it.”

Archer blinked. “How did you…”

“I saw the copy you had in your room. It was falling apart.”

“Thank you so much, Mateo.” Archer shook his head. “I love it.”

Mateo shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re welcome.”

“I—”