AS I STARTED UP THE DRIVEWAY, THE FRONT DOOR banged open. Juno came sprinting toward me, a blue ponytail swinging in the breeze. “Sloane! Oh my God!”
She grabbed me in a hug so fierce that we both nearly fell over.
“How’d you know I was here?” I asked.
“Eddy was by the window and he said he saw a gray car parked out front,” she said. “I know your dad’s car is gray, and obviously I knew he was picking you up today. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about him bringing you by to say hello, but they were up anyway. You can tell yourself not to hope for something, but if you’re telling yourself not to get your hopes up, that means they’re already up. And now, here you are. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too, Ju.”
“I even have a new metaphor for you,” she said. “You know that feeling when you have to pee so badly that you’re about to burst, but you can’t burst because then you’d just pee all over yourself? So you’re holding it in, and finally, you get to a bathroom, and it’s the sweetest relief you’ve ever felt. That’s what it’s like to see you—it’s the sweetest relief.”
“Oh, Ju,” I said. “Not only is that the best metaphor I’ve ever heard, but it’s also the best compliment of my whole entire life. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It feels that way to see you, too,” I said. “I have so much to tell you. First off, this is for you.” I handed her the Retro Planet bag. “There’s something in there for Eddy, too. Yours is the thing that’s not a stuffed grizzly bear.”
“Ah. Ursus arctos californicus.”
“I saw it at the airport, and I had to get it for him.”
“That’s sweet,” she said. “But obviously I care more about what’s for me.” She pulled out the poster tube and popped it open. “Oh my God, Sloane. This is the best thing you could’ve brought back . . . besides yourself, of course. I didn’t want to tell you this when you were still in California, because I knew you’d probably hit your limit on information you could process at one time. But now that you’re here, I can’t keep this to myself anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Well, you know how the kids and I ran into Audrey on the street that day, and they just went nuts for her?”
“Oh no,” I said. “Don’t tell me. She stole your job?”
“Worse,” Juno said. “So much worse. Infinity times worse. Mr. and Mrs. Hogan decided I needed a co-babysitter till you returned, so it was Audrey and me all day every day for three days straight.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Audrey was delighted when they asked her. Apparently her summer job had fallen through, and I had to go along and pretend I was fine having her help for a few days, even though she kept rubbing it in my face that she got Cooper and I didn’t. I’d say something that seemed totally harmless like, ‘Melanie wants green grapes cut in half,’ and Audrey would say, ‘Speaking of green, I just thought of the funniest thing. Oh, ha ha ha.’ And I’d ask her what was so funny, and she’d be all, ‘Nothing. Just a private joke between Cooper and me.’ But the good news is, Cooper broke up with her.”
“What? When?”
“Friday afternoon, about an hour before Mr. Hogan came home. He did it over text, and I had to deal with the kids on my own again, because she was totally losing it. I almost felt sorry for her.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“I said almost,” Juno said. “But anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re back, and she’s back where she belongs, which is out of my life. Phew. This past week was so much harder than I expected, on so many levels.”
“Oh, I know,” I said.
“You had it much harder than I did,” Juno said. “I didn’t mean to complain.”
“And I didn’t mean to compare,” I told her. “My aunt says hardship isn’t a contest, and she’s right. Besides, I want to know when people I love are having a hard time. I want to show up for them. That includes being a better friend to you. When Cooper broke up with you, I didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. It was a really big deal.”
“You were a little distracted. Understandably.”
“But even before Talley died, that night at Trepiccione’s. I wasn’t as supportive as I could’ve been—as I should’ve been.”
“Well, you thought Cooper was a loser.”
“He’s not with you, so he must be,” I said. “But you were still grieving him. Because you really loved him. It’s like what Talley’s friend Tess read at the funeral.”
“Yeah . . . what’d she read again?”
“From The Prophet—‘The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.’ Love is like that, too. The more love you feel for someone, the more space there is for grief when they’re gone. I didn’t understand that you were grieving back then. And to be honest, I was even jealous.”
“Jealous that he broke up with me?”
“Jealous that you had him in the first place,” I said. “You’d loved someone, and someone had loved you back.”
“Whether he ever loved me back is up for debate.”
“Regardless, it was more than I’d ever had.”
“You’ll have it one day, Sloane,” Juno said. “I thought maybe you’d even have it with Adam.”
“There was a moment on the beach when I thought we were about to get together. But then we fought, and I despised him for a couple days, and now we’re friends again. It was a whirlwind nonromance. There’s nothing romantic between us.”
“You’ve only known he existed for a little over a month,” Juno said. “And you only met him in person a week ago. Look what happened in one single week of friendship. Anything is possible.”
“Yeah, but the sheer geography of it probably makes it unlikely.”
“So there’s a few thousand miles between you . . . for now,” Juno said. “Maybe you’ll end up at the same college next year.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind that at all. But back to you and me, I don’t want to let myself off the hook on this. I wasn’t the best friend to you. Meanwhile, you did everything for me—you sent me to California; you checked in constantly. When you texted me that you had an Audrey emergency, it took me so long to call back. When I finally did, I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that I didn’t even find out what it was, till just now. I mean, I’m assuming that’s what it was—the co-babysitting thing.”
“Yep. Luckily that was the only Audrey emergency—though every second of it felt like a fresh emergency.”
“I’m going to make it up to you,” I said. “If Audrey is free, and you want the rest of the summer off, then I can suck it up and co-babysit at the Hogans’ with her.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Juno said. “I’d rather be with you and the triplets than doing anything else. So that’s what I pick . . . unless you’d pick babysitting with Audrey over me.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Just checking. She’s a pretty good babysitter. She was great at playing the whisper challenge with the kids, and I’m not so great—for obvious reasons.”
“I don’t even know what the whisper challenge is, so that’s how good I am at it.”
“It’s when you put on headphones and play music really loud. The person next to you whispers something, and you try to hear it through the headphones, and then you whisper it to the person next to you, who’s also wearing headphones, and on and on, until you get back to the first person, and see how everyone mangled their original phrase.”
“Like a game of telephone, but with hearing damage.”
“Yeah. Except my hearing is already damaged, so it’s hard for me to play, which I’m sure is why Audrey taught them the game in the first place.”
“Which makes her a pretty shitty babysitter. She was modeling insensitivity on top of hurting their ears.”
“They loved it.”
“Kids love things that are bad for them all the time.”
“Seriously, when we showed up in the morning, they were happy enough to see me, but with Audrey, it was like Taylor freaking Swift had just shown up. If they had to choose between the two of us, they totally would’ve picked her over me. It made me feel so bad.”
“I’m sure it did. But anyone would be lucky to have you as the babysitter. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a best friend. You’re so extraordinary. You could basically be best friends with anyone, and you picked me. Lucky me.”
“Lucky me, too,” she said.
“And as long as I’ve already triggered the cheese-whiz alarm, just one more thing. Talley’s friend CJ said that Talley brought out the best in her, and she wasn’t afraid of the worst in her. I think it’s the best definition of best-friendship I’ve ever heard, and I want to make sure that you know it’s how I feel about you—you bring out the best in me, and every time I’ve given you my worst, you’ve been there. You haven’t been afraid of any of it. Just so we’re clear, I’m here for you, too, for all of that.”
“I know,” Juno said. “Thank you. Ditto. And you’re off the cheese-whiz charts. The alarm is broken beyond repair.”
“I did it on purpose,” I said. “I never liked that alarm.”
“Hey!” came a shout, and Eddy was flying out the front door. “You didn’t tell me Sloane was here!” He flung himself at me.
“Wow,” I said. “Is it possible that you grew in just a week? Because I’m pretty sure you’re a few inches taller than the last time I saw you.”
“It’s probably a growth spurt,” Eddy said. He moved his hand between the top of his forehead and my chin. “Yep. I think I’m chin height.”
“Oh no,” Juno said. “That hand is going vertical instead of horizontal.”
“It’s not! I swear!”
“You too big for a present?”
“Definitely not.”
“Good,” I said. “I brought you something back from California.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Your sister has the bag.”
Juno handed it over and Eddy pulled the stuffed bear out. “Neato bandito!” he said.
“Neato bandito,” Juno echoed. She grabbed my hand and squeezed really hard, and the three of us walked into the house.