But Greta wasn’t secretive by nature, and it tormented her. Yes, she often kept things private from her family, but that was because their lives were all so intertwined that it felt like the only way Greta could have anything for herself was to keep it secret. But Tabitha was always the one she confided in. The one who made her feel more like herself for revealing it.

“Senior year, just before graduation, I couldn’t stand it any longer. It just felt wrong spending all this time with her and being so close in all these ways but her not knowing this one huge secret about me. About us, really. And I was all amped up because of finishing school and knowing I was leaving. Anyway, I told her. I worked myself up to it all evening, while drinking three cups of Martin Wyland’s trash can punch. Then, after I was lurchy but before I was woozy, I told her.”

Carys cringed. “How’d that go?”

“Oh, very badly.” Greta smiled. “I puked on her.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah. I was kinda tipsy, and when I told her, she made this face that was like—” Greta attempted an I’m-horrified-but-trying-to-be-cool-and-just-want-this-conversation-to-be-over expression. “She didn’t even have to say anything. I knew she didn’t feel the same. And then I threw up on her shoes.”

Carys laughed and covered her mouth apologetically. “You’re right. That is totally emotional integrity. Are you still friends?”

“Nah. It ruined everything.”

She had apologized to Tabitha (for the puking) and taken it back (the declaration of love), and Tabitha had accepted both. When they went off to college, they’d tried to stay close, making plans for elaborate movie nights and metal detecting along the beach when they were back on Owl Island for the holidays.

But things had never been the same. They did all the same things they once had, but what had once been genuine was now pantomime, and no matter how she tried, Greta couldn’t return to a moment before she’d spoken the words that had ruined everything. Semester by semester, they texted less and less until their entire relationship was birthday GIFs and dreading being home for the holidays together. Still, it was a small town—hell, it was an island—and they inevitably ran into each other from time to time.

“Anyway, we grew apart, but now… I don’t know. For so long, I thought if I’d never told her, we could’ve stayed close. But now, I guess I’m not sorry I told her. It was the right thing to do, and who knows what I might’ve missed out on if I’d spent all that time channeling my energy into that relationship when I knew my feelings wouldn’t be returned. Hell, maybe we’d’ve grown apart anyway.”