Page 59 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

Brody picks us up at the airport wearing the updated version of his college go-to: He’s exchanged basketball shorts for Polo slacks, and instead of his favored tank top, he’s wearing a loud, probably very expensive Hawaiian shirt, one that natives would probably never wear.

One that, truthfully, most people would stay away from: light-pink hibiscus flowers war for attention against too-bright leaves and a hot-pink background.

Then again, Brody’s always been confident in . . . whatever stage he’s going through at the time.

“My favorite people,” he greets us. “And Khloe. You are also… here.”

Khloe’s smile is saccharine as she rubs the bridge of her nose with her middle finger. Brody grins but otherwise ignores his future sister-in-law. While I’d threatened to kill him just hours ago, there’s something teddy-bear-infectious about Brody’s energy.

He and Lucas exchange a quick, tight hug before he lifts and spins me until I’m squealing to be put down.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“That’s what I said,” Lucas agrees.

“Don’t start.”

So far, no one seems to have put together the pieces, but I see Lucas’s eyes narrowing. “What’s the first activity?”

Brody’s face lights up. “I hope you all slept on the plane because in”—he checks his watch with a dramatic flourish—“less than two hours, we are scheduled for extreme snorkeling.”

I’m a terrible swimmer, which means even normal vanilla snorkeling sounds nauseating. “What’s the difference between extreme and regular snorkeling?”

Khloe gives me a pitying look even as Brody and Lucas both reach for my one suitcase; a moment passes before Brody offers to help Khloe load her four-piece matched Fendi set.

“I’m the maid of honor,” she says defensively, as if that explains the need for the additional luggage. Considering I’m one of the best people, I know Brody and Vi have arranged for the tuxedos and bridesmaids’ dresses to be delivered directly to the hotel and venue, meaning no extra luggage should have been necessary.

“Also, I’m a light packer.”

“True,” Brody agrees. “She used to pack half the shit I did for ICPC—our programming competitions.”

“You’ve said the acronym ICPC enough that I recognize it.” Khloe rolls her eyes. “Careful, darling, you don’t want to be one of those people who peaked in college, always droning on about the old glory days.”

“They were glorious.” Brody’s voice has just the faintest edge. “But you should know by now that I am constantly improving, meaning there is no end to my peaking.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Seeing the almost matching mulish expressions on Brody’s and Khloe’s faces, I decide to intercede. “Brody insisted on bringing a telescope to worlds, with all of the padding and packaging that goes along with a telescope.” Though I’m the one speaking, Lucas’s eyes are also warm with the memory of the accessories, the additional night cameras and baggage Brody had insisted we check in under our names, since he was already at the limit.

“Do you know how amazing the astronomy programs in Azerbaijan are?”

“Yes,” Lucas replies.

I elaborate: “Considering you made us take an extra day to go to the Shamakhi Astrophysical Observatory and pay for a guided tour . . . I’m also going to go with yes.”

“Ungrateful plebeians,” Brody mutters, even as he gets into the driver’s seat.

When Lucas heads for the back, Khloe is quick to join him, leaving me in front with Brody, to hear all about the skin diving/snorkeling we’re starting our adventure-filled week with.

“I’m not a particularly strong swimmer,” I admit. Technically, I took two semesters in high school, because it was a seventh period elective and a graduation requirement.

It didn’t go well.

From the back, Lucas interrupts whatever story Khloe is telling to ask, “You never went with your fiancé?”

I take a deep breath before replying, the same way I might edit a text message before sending, so I’m certain of my words. “Tatum and I never quite found the time.”

Barely a beat passes before Khloe asks, “You were engaged?”