He’s my friend. I missed him. If this is all I get with him, that’s enough.

Remember the first day? Edinburgh? Breakfast? Then the rest? Always together? Please tell me you didn’t forget. “You have to go up to your room before we leave?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You?”

I do the same. We turn. Walk outside, side by side, in step. “So, the Greek theater first. And then there’s a church I want to see.”

“The duomo?”

“Yup.”

He nods. “It’s beautiful.”

“Good.” Our arms nearly brush. Then they do—my elbow against his warm skin. “And after that, I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I heard a lot about this amazing homemade arancello they sell at the market.”

He knocks his shoulder against mine. The heat of it scalds me. “Too soon.”

“No, really, they told me great things about its cleansing properties.”

“Trouble.”

“But it’s so popular right now. Even professional athletes recommend—”

“Hey, you two!”

We both look over our shoulders. Both turn around.

Avery is standing on the first step of the stone porch, wearing a pretty blue sundress that makes her look like a water nymph. The goddess of the sky.

“Are you going to Taormina?”

Beside me, Conor tenses. He says nothing for a silence that stretches too long, and I’m the one who nods.

In response, her grin is dazzling. “May I join you?”

Chapter 13

Three years, two months, two weeks, and six days earlier

Edinburgh, Scotland

“So maybe…maybe we sorted this out? And we can carry on as before?” Rose’s expression is so wide-eyed and hopeful, I have to make the executive decision not to laugh in her face.

I woke up this morning to a Conor-less room, a phone number scribbled on a notepad on my desk, and a full house. Rose and her new girlfriend, Surika, sit at the kitchen table with Georgia and Alfie, eating eggs and sausage. They’ve all been debriefed on my wild night of passion (I can only hope that’s how they referred to it). Clearly, they plan to use it as proof that Georgia and Alfie did nothing wrong, ever.

“The people in this room are my best friends,” Rose says, one hand dramatically poised on her chest. “It’s very important that you guys all get on with each other.”

“I’m totally okay with everyone,” Georgia says, and I have to bite my tongue before asking, What could you possibly have to object to? “Maya, I just want you to know that I don’t mind living with you,” she adds. Her eyes are the exact same shade of green as Rose’s. I might have to burn every item of clothing I own in that color. “It would be so shitty of me to ask you to move out. It never even occurred to me.”

I’ve been trying not to abuse my therapyspeak, but I’m starting to feel a little gaslighted. “It had never occurred to me, either,” I mumble. Two months. Two months of school left. Then I’ll be free to move my single, friendless self elsewhere. “I’m so sorry.” I stand from the stool where I was sat more or less against my will. “I have to go, or I’ll be late for breakfast with Conor.”