AMY
You and Ethel really need to stop watching those.
PHIL
Or maybe you need to START watching those with us…
My head went pleasantly fuzzy at the thought of Phil, Ethel, and me watching cheesy films together come Christmas, but then I remembered that we’d be long broken up by then. So instead of egging him on, I left his last message on read.
* * *
The next day,I sat in the front seat of Jack’s Land Rover Defender, exchanging looks of horror with Phil through the rear-view mirror as he huddled in the middle seat. Jack was belting in what I think was meant to be a harmony with Fatima, who was sat directly behind me. They were both completely tone deaf, though, so they could have been attempting to sing the same notes. I couldn’t be sure.
“What even is this?” I yelled to Morgan, who sat behind Jack, looking only slightly less shellshocked than Phil and me.
“The soundtrack for the musical episode ofBuffy the Vampire Slayer. They’re obsessed.”
I breathed out as slowly as I could, attempting to centre myself through the noise. I decided to distract myself by texting Phil; I’d been thinking of what to contribute to our fictional history. He’d have to hide his screen well, but Morgan was staring out the window, presumably trying to dissociate, and Fatima seemed thoroughly engrossed in her Broadway debut.
AMY
Daily Phamy lore drop #5: we’ve watched every single Meg Ryan film together in my attempt to educate you on non-Christmas rom-coms.
PHIL
Hey, initiating the lore drops are my job! What if I already had one ready?
AMY
Go on then, what are you waiting for?
PHIL
Daily Phamy lore drop #5: we’ve watched every single Meg Ryan film together in your attempt to educate me on non-Christmas rom-coms.
AMY
Wow, my favourite one yet.
PHIL
What’s your contribution then? Come on, I can’t do all the heavy lifting here.
AMY
You cried at the end of When Harry Met Sally.
PHIL
Well obviously. Again, I’m only human.
But so did you.
AMY
I always do.
A few hours later, I was slogging along the trail, remembering acutely why I hated camping, and we hadn’t even made it to the site yet. My boots were so covered in mud that it was starting to soak through my socks– how was it so muddy when it hadn’t rained in weeks? My backpack was so heavy with my tent, chair, and everything else that I was sure I was sinking twice as far into the sodden ground as I otherwise would.
