I had the strongest urge to slip my arms through his and snuggle up next to him. But I pushed that urge right back down where it came from, thank you.

Instead, I glanced in the direction of the bell that chimed as the café’s front door opened.

And that’s when I saw them. Entering together. Laughing.

Or at least Mia was laughing. Brody seemed distracted as he stood behind her, holding the door to let her pass, and I felt a three-pronged stab of envy, resentment, and panic arc across the café’s interior and land right in the center of my chest.

I ducked down behind the display case, out of view. That still left me with a partially obscured sightline as Mitzi guided them to the booth with the red table next to the front window.

Which had been our spot, once upon a time.

It felt like years ago but my last dinner date here with Brody had only been in late March, a week after my official acceptance letter to Barrington had arrived in the mail. I remember spending our whole meal trying to figure out how I should tell him, and when it was time to go home, wondering why I hadn’t found a way to work it into the conversation.

His wavy hair was slightly longer than I remembered. I suppose it had been long when I caught him and Mia making out at the Sonic. But that hadn’t exactly been a detail to register then. Unlike the way their dueling tongues were visible from a distance of twenty feet or the fact he was squeezing her right breast through her pale pink sweater like it was a hand-and-arm strengthener. That had definitely registered.

It didn’t help that Mia had never looked prettier.

She had always vacillated between pretending not to care how she presented herself to the world (aka the brief goth phase in junior high that lasted only long enough for her to realize she didn’t like piercings and black was not her best color) and caring more than anyone else I knew (which was every other time that wasn’t the goth phase). Her naturally dark hair was cut in a long bob and the ends flared out from beneath the white beanie with two oversized white pom-poms that shimmied as she walked.

Mia had always been cute. I’d told her so a thousand times a day ever since we met on the playground in elementary school and decided to become best friends. Mainly because she needed to be told a thousand times a day. Security in self-image was an area in which she still needed a lot of work. Though being the emotional support person for Mia was no longer my job.

It was Brody’s.

“Finley?” I looked up to see Arthur frowning down at me. “Whatever—?”

“Shhh!” I glared at him and put my index finger up to my lips.