“There’s our world traveler,” he said as Laurel launched herself at him, wrapping her toned arms around his neck. He hooked an arm around my shoulders once she let him go and I patted him on the back.
“That’s it?” Laurel asked, looking between us. “We’re reunited for the first time in a year and you two look like you’re congratulating each other on your favorite sports team winning.”
“Sutton hates the Pirates,” Davi said. “And we saw each other two months ago.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We grabbed a quick lunch last time he was in town.” It was a joke. In reality, Davi had crashed on my couch for his spring break—he was in law school in Illinois, which Laurel knew, but she still rolled her eyes.
“You two are so unsentimental,” she said.
We joined Davi on the back porch where he filled us in on what the life of a law student looked like after Laurel refused to share any details of her trip abroad until everyone had arrived. (You can tell them again, Davi had said.I know, but then it won’t be asfresh, Laurel replied.)
The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon when we heard a car pulling up out front. Laurel bolted out of her seat, Davi and I following behind as she raced through the house and out onto the front porch. Davi paused to grab another beer from the fridge and pull on a T-shirt.
Laurel and Gabe were hugging in the driveway when I walked out onto the front porch. It was one of those that goes on for a while, a lot of cooing on her part and rocking back and forth on his.
“I can’t believe it’s yoooou,” she practically sang as he swayed her. Gabe’s hair had grown out from its usual short crop into something wilder than I think any of us ever expected from him in the last year. It stuck up in tufts now, had to be routinely pushed back with a hand or, currently, his sunglasses.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” he said, easily matching Laurel’senthusiasm. They were hugging in front of the Bronco. The sight of it sent something unexpected through me, like a soft brush of wings just roused from slumber in my stomach.
I didn’t have time to think about it. Gabe was rushing over to me before I could, thick arms coming around me and lifting me off the porch in a bear hug that squeezed all the air out of me. I heard the car door slam as he spun me around before setting me back on my feet.
“Hi,” I said as Gabe held me away from him. I beamed up at him, only part of my brain fixating on the sounds of a Laurel greeting ensuing behind us.
“Can you believe we’re here?” Gabe asked, eyes sparkling, so far from the heartbroken person he was a year ago.
“Believe it?” came a voice from behind us, and his attention was drawn toward Davi, who had emerged from the house. “We’ve only been planning it since we left last year. You and Laurel act like it’s some big surprise.”
Gabe scrubbed a hand over the top of my head before he started toward Davi and I could turn toward the car again, following whatever it was that knotted in my stomach and tugged me in that direction.
Everett was looking down at Laurel, hands on her shoulders and smile wide as she said something to him. I caught snippets of it—hang out all the timeandshow me the best spots, because they’d be living in the same city now, which Laurel had reminded me of last night as we ate takeout Chinese on the floor of what would become her living room.
“You could move in with me, you know,” she’d said. “I’ve heard people in LA need chefs or whatever.”
“Seriously?” I said, widening my eyes and prompting a laugh out of her. I speared a water chestnut, pulled my knees up to my chest. “Much as I’d love to be roomies again, things aregood in San Francisco.” They were, and Laurel knew this. I’d been on full time at the restaurant all year, and was taking July and August off to cook for private clients in the area. I already had a whole week lined up with a family in Half Moon Bay.
“That’s okay,” Laurel sighed. “I’ll just have to hang out with all my other amazing friends.” I kicked her foot, scowling jokingly. She nabbed a spring roll from the box between us, biting into it before saying, “Oh, and Everett, obviously.”
The rice I’d swallowed suddenly wasn’t going down so easily, turning into a dry mass in my throat. I took an enormous swig of water to wash it down. “What about Everett?”
“He lives here, duh,” she said. “He’ll have to hang out with me.”
“Right,” I said. “Duh.”
I knew Everett lived in Los Angeles. He had a place in West Hollywood and, after a stint in production on a show that wasn’t ultimately picked up, landed a gig as second assistant director on an indie movie one of his friends from film school was working on. He still surfed. He’d had a birthday and he’d let his beard get a little longer and he’d trimmed it again and he took care of his friend’s dog for a couple months while said friend was making a movie in Spain or somewhere and his eyes were just as bright through a computer or phone screen, which was why, for the most part, I knew all of this. Our group chat wasn’t enough for Laurel and so she’d scheduled monthly catchups for all of us.
Like today, I knew he’d picked Gabe up at the airport and that they drove down together. I knew they’d be arriving in the Bronco, and that they’d be getting here around this time, and I knew that my eyes seemed to drift, almost of their own volition, to his little square every time we were on one of those calls, my mind casually wandering back to that kiss inthe doorway. Which was probably why, when his eyes lifted toward mine over Laurel’s head, I was right back at that party, drawn toward him by what I told myself was some primal reflex, whatever was in me urging me toward whatever was in him because we’d make great babies, or something scientific like that.
Laurel said something else before rushing back to the porch, joining Gabe and Davi, and leaving me to wander over to Everett alone.
“Sutton,” he said.
“Everett.” There was a half second when I swore he smirked at me before he pulled me into a hug.
“Good to see you, Hale,” he said. I leaned away from him, returned his smug expression. He tugged at the ends of my hair lightly, rubbed them between his fingers. “Gotten longer,” he said.
I moved out of his reach, pushed his hand away. “Crazy how hair does that when you don’t see someone for a year.”
Everett frowned. “Not if you cut it.”
