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“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
I’m less confident, but I continue rolling balls of dough anyway. The trays of cookies get slid into the oven and then we end up at the kitchen counter, sipping on the hot chocolate Sydney made when I first arrived. I lasted about an hour amidst the chaos at my house, unpacking and finishing one assignment that’s due tomorrow, before crossing the street.
“So…was it wild?” she asks.
I’ve been preoccupied with rescuing her baking project since I crossed the street to her house an hour ago. We haven’t discussed the senior trip beyond the few texts we exchanged while I was gone.
“It was different,” I answer. “It felt grown up, you know?”
Sydney bobs her head. This feels very different than talking about the senior trip with Maggie. Sydney is more similar to me. She’s not expecting any crazy stories and she would be shocked to hear I have any.
“I roomed with McKenzie Howard, so that was interesting.”
“Was she nice?”
“Yeah. I think so. She wasn’t trying to become best friends, but she didn’t ignore me or anything.”
“So you guys talked?”
“Do you want to use the bathroom first?Was most of it.”
Sydney laughs. “How was the city?”
“It was a little overwhelming. But energetic. It was like you stand there and can just soak it all in.” I fill her in on all the sights we saw and all the places we went to, then admit, “I played Truth or Dare.”
“Really?” Sydney’s tone is a mixture of shocked and excited.
“Yeah. Finn invited me when he came by the room to get McKenzie.”
“Finn? Was Holden there?”
“Uh, yeah. He was.”
“He wasn’t rude to you, was he? I know you guys are…”
Sydney’s voice trails. This is the closest she’s gotten to addressing the rift between me and Holden in years, and it’s incredibly ironic it’s happening now.
“No. He wasn’t rude.”
That’s all I say, and I watch Sydney forcibly shove down her curiosity. I show her some photos I took around the city and brainstorm a plan regarding another hang out with Graham until the cookies are done. By the time they’re cooled, it’s dinner time.
“I should head home. Dad wants to look over my college essay tonight.” I finally managed to finish a draft right before leaving on the senior trip.
Sadness crosses Sydney’s face like a cloud passing in front of the sun, the same expression she wears every time that the topic of college comes up. I nudge her shoulder. “It’s still a year away.”
“Eight months,” she grumbles.
I haven’t asked—and she hasn’t said—but I know Sydney’s apprehension when it comes to the topic of college isn’t just because of me.
Holden leaving will mean she’s all alone. Their dad’s schedule has gotten busier and busier in recent years. I’ve barelyseen Mr. Adams in months. I have no idea if he plans to be home with Sydney once Holden leaves, and I’m not sure she knows either. It’s not my place to ask.
Our goodbye hug is tighter than usual before I grab the plate of cookies and head for the front door. I slip on my jacket and step out onto the front porch, pulling the door shut behind me.
I turn and freeze. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hey.” As per usual, Holden meets my awkwardness with ease. He leans against the railing that runs the length of the stairs, totally relaxed.
“I was just, um, cookies.” I swallow. Blush. “Sydney and I made cookies.”
