Jess’s candor surprised me. She seemed mature, to admit to her wrongs so easily, and like she’d actually learned something from the relationships that she’d been in, which was more than I could say for myself (the only thing I’d learned was not to date Touchstone). Maybe, if I stopped being so stubborn for half a second, I could admit that she wasn’t the worst match for Ros.

But where did that leave me?

The rest of our group had found space on a small rock tucked away in the shade. Everyone had stripped down to their suits and busted into the snacks and the limeade. Audrey had a script in her lap, making her the only other person who’d brought reading material. Jess settled in next to Ros on the same towel, curling up next to them with a kiss on a cheek. I threw my towel and my book down next to them—I would have preferred something farther away, but there was nowhere else I could sit—and stood there for a moment, surveying the joyful scene before us.

Well. It was time to be in my bathing suit.

A word on disrobing. I know it’s totally normal to be in a bathing suit at a water-based activity. Still—I always hated the moment of peeling off your clothes in front of teeming hordes of people (or even in front of your friends). Especially now, since I was the only one doing it. It was a bathing suit, said everyone; what did it matter? I don’t know! It just was weird when you thought about it, being practically naked in front of a bunch of strangers. It’s not even like my bathing suit was that scandalous—I was a simple-black-one-piece sort of girl, one that concealed more than it revealed—but still, I hated the moment where I suddenly became exposed. Like, everyone could see my bikini line, the red bumps that I couldn’t get rid of no matter what internet remedy I tried. It wasn’t like I was naked, but I was close.

I let the straps of my overalls fall, and in that very second, who should I make eye contact with across the water but Oliver Teller.

He was seated on a rock with the rest of his yeti cast, including the director, who was raising a bottle of wine to her lips, and the lead actor, who appeared to be trying to wrest it from her grasp.

For a second I looked away, and then decided it was more awkward to pretend not to have seen him, so I turned back and raised one hand in greeting.

He raised one hand in greeting right back.

I raised a second hand in greeting, failing to remember that continued hand raising was not a social custom. I resisted the urge to put my overalls back on.