THE FAIRGROUNDS were set up on this big field the town had especially to host the festivities every year, about a fifteen-minute drive from Bee’s house.

There was a little bit of weirdness when Ryan came to pick us up, since I had no idea where to sit. Once upon a time, I would have sat with him in the front, but now that felt too couple-y. Especially since we were both technically uncoupled now. So I surrendered the front seat to Bee, sitting in the back and trying to pretend that this wasn’t all super awkward.

Once we were parked, I followed Ryan and Bee from the “parking lot”—another field with a few orange cones and pieces of twine marking off spaces—and wrinkled my nose at the smell of horses and hay.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” I said to Bee.

She was walking a little bit ahead of me, and she smiled as she turned to look at me, flipping a handful of hair off her shoulders. “Because it’s fun,” she insisted, hanging back to loop an arm through mine.

April in Alabama is usually pretty close to full-blown summer. Hot, humid, all of that. But it was nice now with the sun going down, the breeze cool enough to make me glad I’d grabbed a light cardigan before I’d left. In front of us, the fair sparkled with brightly colored lights, the sound of music and screams greeting our ears.

Stopping outside the main gate, Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a broad smile splitting his handsome face. “Now we’re talking,” he said happily, and I couldn’t help but smile, no matter how awkward this felt.

In that moment, I would’ve given anything to be able to slip my hand into Ryan’s and lean against his shoulder. Not because I wanted him to be my boyfriend, but because he was good at that, being a shoulder to lean on.

Instead, I hugged myself, walking toward the booth to pay.

Once we were inside, the three of us kind of stood in the midway, unsure of what to do first.

The fair was, as usual, way too crowded, and I was a little too out of sorts to deal with things like the smell of farm animals and too many people. Still, I was doing my best to pretend this was the Best Night Ever, so I smiled at Bee and looped an arm through hers.

“What should we ride first?”

But Bee was not that easily fooled. “It’s okay, Harper,” she said, patting the hand I had resting on her forearm. “I know you hate every second of this.”