“What’s—oh my God. Your necklace?”
“Yeah, I…” I spin around, a dog chasing its tail. “It must’ve fallen off somewhere.” My fingers follow the path the delicate chain used to take.
Yumi drops her pack, leaving JSP on the mat as she retraces our steps. “Well, let’s find it, then. It’s not like we have anywhere to be.” She glares at JSP, daring him to tell her to come back.
I look between them—Jonathan, confused, and Yumi, determined—and I hear my dad’s voice say,It’s basically her toenail.I burst into laughter.
“Are you okay, Noe?” She runs back my way, is by my side ina heartbeat, hand on my arm. She thinks I’m crying, and that only makes me laugh even harder. Kind, thoughtful, fiery Yumi. My best friend. My person.
She and I have always been crossing a bridge together.
On one side was everything we had: the comfortable friendship we’d spent our whole lives building. And on the other side? I was never sure.
Some days, we’d walk halfway and Yumi would point out the koi swimming in the river below and we’d follow the fish right up to the end of the wooden planks, her tugging me along. Other days, it was me who led us to the edge, talking of landmarks and mountains.
We stand now, balanced on the threshold of uncharted territory with a decision to make.
I love the bridge. I love the memories we built on it, hours spent with our feet dangling over the rushing water. But when I drop my hand from my neck to reach up to tuck a stray lock of Yumi’s hair behind her ear, I happily set the wood of the past aflame and finally get out there.
Part Three
Postseason
Chapter 47
Palace
“This is such bullshit,” Yumisays, slamming her hand on the flimsy black folding table. She blows a bubble with her gum, popping it sharply in annoyance while staring me down. “You’re the worst.”
“Sorry, babe. That’s the game,” I say gently, watching as she picks up at least half the deck and adds it to her hand.
“So, you’re just not good atanygames, then?” Matt asks as he places a four of spades in the space Yumi cleared.
Her mouth falls open in disbelief. “I’m at least thirteen seconds better at some games than two other people at this table.”
Morgan gasps, affronted as she lays down a seven of diamonds. “What did I do to deserve being brought into this?”
“You hang around haters, you catch some strays,” Yumi replies.
Fighting back a laugh, I play a two. Twos reset the pile, allowing you to put any card you want on top, even if it isn’t higher than the card before. I flip my three of spades on top, leaving one card in my hand—an ace.
Yumi’s eyes narrow in on my last card. I give her a pleasant smile, because no matter what anyone plays, I’ve already won. Holding my gaze, she stacks the remaining threes on top of mine,clearing the pile by creating four of a kind. She slides the cards over to the discard area and starts the pile again with a four.
Then it’s Matt’s turn. He glances at the singular card in my hand before laying down three aces—his last three cards—and winning the game.
“No way,” I exhale, tossing my ace on top of the pile. “Yumi’s right, this is bullshit.”
“That’s the game, babe,” she parrots back to me with a mocking pout, gathering the deck and shuffling it idly.
Matt pushes back from the table and stands with a stretch. “No more cards,” he declares through a yawn. “All this winning is taking a toll on me. Anyone want anything from craft services?”
I think it was probably during our sixth hour of killing time backstage beforeThe Adventureverse’s reunion show that I decided never to eat another plate of craft services sushi in my life. “No, thanks.”
“I’m good,” Yumi agrees, rolling her neck.
Morgan volunteers to accompany Matt, and together they leave the greenroom holding hands.
The moment the door shuts behind them, Yumi turns to me, waggling her eyebrows. “Wanna make out till they get back?” she asks, playfully.
