Page 27 of See You Next Tuesday

“It’s thanking God for this moment,” she explained, her heart full as the rain kept falling all around them. “The word shehechyanu literally means ‘that we are alive.’ ”

“That we are alive,” Gabe repeated, nodding slowly. “That we are alive.”

—

There were sandy beach towels in the back of one of the Jeeps, so the group shook them out and dried off as best they could before they headed to a nearby beach bar. The night had a giddy quality—the last night of vacation, the miraculous thing they’d just seen, the whole island smelling fresh and green after the quickly passing rainstorm. The bar was mostly outdoors and dimly lit with cheery golden string lights. Anya, Simone, Gabe, and Kira were drinking mezcal with pineapple juice at a little table by the bar, everyone feeling buzzy from the liquor and the fact that all four of them could finally sit together.

“You know what we need?” Gabe asked the group.

“Big cups of water and some ibuprofen?” Anya ventured.

“My boring, responsible angel.” Simone wrapped her arms around Anya’s shoulders and pulled her close; Anya leaned her head against Simone’s ample bosom.

“You smell sooooo good,” Anya giggled.

“Doesn’t she?!” Kira agreed. “It’s like otherworldly.”

“It’s literally Johnson & Johnson.” Simone sighed dramatically.

“You’re lying.” Anya sat up and stared at Simone. “It’s for sure perfume.”

“It’s my natural essence.”

“It might be sunscreen,” Kira pointed out. “I love how it smells when you get home from the beach and you’re all salty and coconutty, you know?”

“Yes,” Anya agreed.

“So we’re not gonna answer my question?” Gabe asked, looking amused.

“What question?” Anya gave him a big innocent look, then burst out laughing. “No, wait. I actually forget what question.”

“I was saying, we need shots.”

“Oh my god, nooooo,” Anya protested.

Kira high-fived Gabe. “We’re doing it. I’ll come with.”

They strode off toward the bar. As soon as they were out of earshot, Simone poked Anya’s arm.

“So?” she asked. “You two buried the hatchet?”

“I guess? He apologized, so that was nice.” Anya took a sip of her drink and smiled as Simone gave her a smug grin. “Feeling pleased that your little scheme worked out?”

“Whatever could you mean?” Simone batted her eyes innocently, then leaned toward Anya. “But be real—how good did he look with that white shirt in the rain?”

“Oh my god, I didn’t notice,” Anya insisted, but she automatically glanced toward Gabe at the bar. He and Kira were laughing and talking, neither one seeming the least bit interested in a nearby group of women who were obviously ogling them.

“Now I know you’re lying.” Simone peered at Anya. “Why won’t you admit you like him?”

“Because I don’t!” Anya squeaked. “I mean—whatever, he’s empirically handsome. I said as much to him tonight.”

“You did?” Simone sat up a little straighter. “What did he say?”

“Ugh, it was so embarrassing. He asked if I wanted him to be interested in me in, like, the saddest voice imaginable—like he pitied me.”

“Wait wait wait.” Simone shook her head. “Back up. He asked if you were into him?”

“Yeah?” Anya bit her lip.