“Fix that,” she said, nodding out the door toward Oliver. “The pom-poms can wait.”

And so, at her urging, I hustled after him. It felt like an episode of Power Jam, the one where the music swells and Kenna chases Louisa out into the pouring rain, finally ready to profess her love. But the thing was—I wasn’t trying to profess my love. Mostly, I just wanted my friend back. I didn’t know what I’d say. I just knew that couldn’t be the end of it all—him handing me the yeti pelt, nodding at me, and leaving.

I caught sight of him heading up the trail toward the spot in the woods where we’d first met.

“Oliver!” I called.

Mercifully, he slowed down, waiting for me to catch up with him.

“Reception time?” I asked, gesturing toward the trees.

“I’ve got to call my agent,” he said. “I think we’re getting a season three.”

“That’s great,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m glad it’s going to be renewed.”

I stood feeling awkward. There were so many scripts for professing your love—Power Jam was absolutely chock-full of them. Always in the rain, or before or after finals, or even midmatch before the big try. Always epic, always heartfelt. Less common was the script for someone who had treated their friend badly and, on an otherwise normal day with normal weather, wanted to put it right. I’d gotten a little practice with Touchstone, but I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to find the words I needed to convince Oliver of how sorry I was.

“Thank you for bringing the deviled eggs the other night,” I said. As openers went, deviled eggs weren’t the strongest, but for better or worse, it was what I came up with.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“And for taking me to see the falls,” I said.

“Celia, I’ve got a call at twelve.”

Here it was. My turn.

“I wanted to say that you were right.”

Oliver nodded. “Andrew came to talk to me, you know. To set things right between us. It was nice, actually. He showed up with a bunch of stuff from the Dropped Acorn.”

“Oh. That is nice,” I said, even though I hadn’t been talking about Touchstone at all. I was impressed with all the effort he put in.

“Yeah. I don’t think we’re going to be, like, best mates anytime soon, but I did appreciate that he made an effort.” He paused.

“Um. I’m really glad that he came to talk to you. But I was actually talking about you. You were right. Like, when you said the thing. About me using you as a prop.”

“Oh,” he said.

“That was really, really mean,” I said.

“It didn’t feel great,” he said.