CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Talia’s mom drives us to brunch the next morning. I try to act normal, but I’m hyper-aware of Talia the second I slide into the backseat. She twists to smile back at me, and it’s like she’s glowing from within. I can smell her conditioner—back to lavender—and her skin is tanned from all the time we’ve been spending in the sun.

“I can’t wait to double date with you,” she says.

“Same!” I chirp. I sound so fake, but she turns back around like she doesn’t notice anything.

As we head toward Café Flora, my stomach jolts with every bump we hit. I try to do my breathing exercises, and they help a little bit, but when we pull up to the café, anxiety spikes in my chest again. I scan the brunch crowd waiting outside for tables, but I don’t see Rose.

“OK, girls.” Talia’s mom turns and looks at us. “I want you to have this.” She holds out a credit card.

“Oh no, it’s OK,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“It’s my pleasure. I’m just so excited for you both. Dating is such a milestone.”

“Mom.” Talia covers her face.

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. You’re growing up! And you both look so beautiful.”

“It’s just a date, not a wedding,” Talia says.

“Still.” Her mom waves a hand. “It’s on me.”

Talia takes the card, and we slide out. When the car pulls away, Talia wiggles the card at me.

“Thrifting rampage later?” she asks. Her eyes are gleaming.

“Oh definitely,” I say. “Round trip to Paris after?”

“Oui oui, mademoiselle!”

We’re giggling, throwing out more and more ridiculous scenarios, when Talia’s gaze shifts past me and she breaks out into a big grin. I turn, and there they are.

Rose and Brenna.

Rose is shorter than I remember; I didn’t really get a good read on their height at the salon. Their hair is still the same pixie cut, like mine is now. But this time theirs is dyed a perfect shade of pastel pink. Like mine was a few months ago.

Their outfit even kind of looks like mine: I’m wearing a pink tank top with a floral print shirt tied at my waist and light denim shorts, and they’re wearing a black tank under a floral print shirt with black denim shorts. They’re wearing fishnets and big boots, and I’m wearing my sandals.

Rose is kind of like me but make it vaguely goth. I wonder if they play any sports.

Their friend—Brenna—smiles at me. She’s short and curvy with long light brown hair. “Hi! You must be Hayley.”

I stretch out a hand. “And you’re Brenna.”

“That’s me.” She toys with her earrings. They’re little donuts with pink frosting and sprinkles.

“Those are amazing.”

“Thanks. I made them.”

“No way.” I move closer and she spins them around, showing them off.

“They were my final project in ceramics last year.”

“That’s so cool.” I glance over at Talia and Rose and my heart leaps into my throat. They’re holding hands, and Rose is gazing at Talia, who’s blushing.

“Hey!” My voice comes out louder than I intended, and they both look up, startled. I smile to soften it. “Should we get some brunch?”

With a chorus of “yes” and “I’m starving,” we move into the entryway of the restaurant. The host takes Talia’s name and says we’ll have to wait for a while, so we file back outside and find a spot to stand by the café windows.

Even though there’s a small crowd outside, we must have come at the end of a wave, because one by one the other groups get called in for a table, and sooner than I thought, the host is leading us inside.

To our left is a more traditional restaurant layout. Two rows of tables run parallel to each other next to the big bright windows filled with plants, along with a row of tables along the back wall and a counter with high stools. Art by local artists hangs above the tables. In front of us is a corridor with more tables leading to the outdoor patio. We follow the host to the right, into my favorite part of the restaurant.

It’s a room encircled in windows, with the triangle jut of a greenhouse roof above and a water fountain in the center shadowed by a small tree and more plants. The floor is gray stone tile, like we’re in a garden courtyard, except we’re inside. All the windows are open, letting in the warm summer breeze. Tables line the perimeter, with a few placed on either side of the water feature.

All the tables are filled except one, just inside the entrance to the room. The host seats us, hands out menus, and then hurries back to the front of the restaurant.

I breathe in deep. The smell of earth and water mixes with the sweet and savory scent of breakfast food: syrup, pancakes, eggs, biscuits, roasted vegetables, and more. My mouth waters and my stomach growls so loud Talia snorts and glances over at me. I smirk at her. Rose and Brenna don’t seem to notice.

“Wow.” Rose scans the room. “This place is gorgeous. I see why it’s your favorite.” They smile at Talia.

“We’ve been coming here for ages,” I say. “It’s, like, our spot.” I smile at Talia, too, and she smiles back.

“Talia told me you two are besties,” Rose says.

Warmth blooms in my chest. Talia talked about me to Rose. I wonder what else she said.

“I mean, yeah,” I say. “We go way back.” I sound so cool and collected. This is good. I just need to keep this up for the whole date.

“That’s one way to put it,” Talia says, arching an eyebrow at me.

“You were born on the same day, in the same hospital, right?” Rose looks from Talia to me.

“Whoa!” Brenna says. “I can’t think of any friends I’ve had that long.”

I nod at Rose. “Our parents still have dinners together once a month.”

“That’s so cute,” they say.

The server, a tall blond person with tattoos all over their arms and neck, approaches the table. “How we doing today?”

We answer in a vague affirmative chorus and shuffle with our menus.

“Do you wanna share?” Talia asks Rose. “A sweet thing and a savory thing?”

That’s what she and I always do when we’re here. Not today though, I guess.

“Sure!” Rose says, scanning the menu. “What about this?”

Talia looks over. “Ooh, sounds great. And . . .”

I wait for her to say it, taking a deep breath. It’s fine. Talia can order whatever she wants with whoever she wants.

“Waffles?”

What? We always get pancakes. First the new ice cream flavor, then the new shampoo, and now this. They’re small things, but they’re also not. I’ve known Talia, her routines, her favorites, for years. They’ve never changed, but now . . .

I’m sitting, but I feel unsteady. I stare at the menu, trying to focus on the options, trying to figure out what to get now that I have to order on my own.

Brenna nudges me. “You wanna share something, too?”

“Oh!” I look at her, and then back at my menu. “Yeah. OK. What were you thinking?”

We end up getting pancakes, because I need something to stay the same today, and a scramble. While we wait for food, the three of them chatter away, and I try to keep up and stay interested. I should give Brenna a chance. She’s cute, and she seems really sweet.

Talia and Rose drift off into conversation about astrology, Rose explaining something about how all the houses work. I like astrology, but I’m not in that deep, and I can’t follow what they’re talking about. At the same time, our food comes and a wave of relief washes over me. The sooner we eat, the sooner this date will be over.

“So how do you and Rose know each other?” I ask Brenna as we dig in.

“Well . . .” Brenna glances at Rose, but they’re totally engrossed in talking to Talia, giggling about whatever she just said. “We dated. Just for a minute,” she says quickly, and my eyebrows rise before I can stop myself. “It totally didn’t work. We weren’t attracted to each other. It was more of a friend vibe, so . . . here we are.”

I glance at Talia again. Has everyone dated their friend and then broken up? She’s nodding along with whatever Rose is saying. The sun filtering through the trees casts a dappled light across both of them. They look great together. They look like a couple.

“Hayley?”

I look back to Brenna. Her head’s tilted a bit.

“Sorry, I spaced. What were you saying?” I stab a few pieces of pancake and take a bite.

“Oh, I just asked you what you do for fun. Rose told me you play basketball?”

I nod, chewing and swallowing the food. “Mhmm. I’ve played since middle school.” Normally I’d be all over this subject, but today, it just reminds me of being late on Thursday and the crawling embarrassment of watching the girls file in, side-eyeing me and whispering to each other.

“What position?”

“Power forward or shooting guard,” I say, and then I have to explain what each one does and how basketball works because it turns out Brenna isn’t sporty at all. I keep waiting for the light bulb to click on, to feel that glow I normally do when I talk about basketball, but it just doesn’t happen.

Then Brenna starts telling me about her family and I try to listen. It’s hard, though. Rose is a loud talker, and I’m struggling to shut out their voice along with all the other sounds of the restaurant: forks clinking, people chattering, the quiet music that I can somehow hear every word of. It doesn’t help that whenever I look over at the two of them, I get distracted by the way Rose is looking at Talia, or teasing her about something, or pointing out something in the room or outside.

Maybe it would be awkward if Talia and I tried to date. Maybe we wouldn’t have any chemistry, like Rose and Brenna didn’t.

But when I think about kissing her, my insides feel like carbonated water, fizzing and popping. That’s a good sign, right?

It doesn’t matter, though, if she doesn’t want it—and I can tell she doesn’t. She’s too interested in whatever Rose is talking about now.

My eyes fill up with tears. Oh no. What’s happening?

“Hayley?” I turn slowly. Brenna’s staring at me, her eyebrows drawn together. “Are you OK?”

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I look at Talia and Rose. They’re silent all of a sudden, both of them turned toward me. I mumble something that I hope sounds like “I’ll be right back,” push back my chair, squeeze past Brenna, and bee-line for the bathroom at the other side of the restaurant.

Inside the bathroom, I lock myself in a stall and focus on my breathing—counting four in, four out; four in, six out; four in, eight out; deep into my belly—but it doesn’t work. The breath gets caught in my chest where it feels like a giant hand is squeezing my ribcage. All the sound around me is dimming.

I have to get out of here.

I head out of the bathroom, through the restaurant toward the door. Everything is going fast and slow at the same time, like trying to run in a dream. I hear my name, and then Talia’s there, blocking the doorway.

“I have to go,” I say, stopping short in front of her.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” Her hands are clutched together in front of her, like she’s pleading.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Is everything OK?” Rose pops up behind Talia, Brenna close behind. I look from one to the other, and back to Talia, but I can’t think of anything say.

So I brush past Talia and run out.

I hear Talia call my name again, but I’m in a full sprint up the sidewalk, people dodging out of my way as I go. Part of me is screaming NO STOP GO BACK, but it’s too late. I can’t take it back. I have to go. I ruined everything, and this is the only thing I can do.

I run until my sides are aching and I’m wheezing, and then I run a little longer, until I finally slow to a trudge. I’m far away from the restaurant now—or at least, far enough.

Houses line the street on either side of me, tall wide-branched trees keeping the sidewalk shady and cool. A toddler babbles somewhere; a dog barks. I cut over toward the busier street nearby and cross to the closest bus stop, the bus Talia and I would have taken if her mom hadn’t driven us. A few minutes later, one pulls up, and I get on, keeping my eyes down as I head to a seat in the back. I’m crying and sweaty, and the last thing I need is sympathy from a stranger.

I pull out my phone, just out of habit, and now that I’m not running, I can see my notifications are blowing up. Talia’s already called me multiple times, and as I hold the phone, she calls me again and again, texting me in between.

Where are you??

Are you OK??

Answer me

I can see the ellipses Hayley. I know you’re there. Please tell me what’s going on

I read every text as they come in. My heart isn’t sinking; it’s already at the bottom of the ocean, burrowing into the sediment inside the deepest trench, where nothing but darkness lives. My head is fuzzy, thoughts ping-ponging without rest.

Then Kevin texts me. Dude are you OK? Talia just told us—

Another text interrupts me as I read Kevin’s. This time it’s Bri. Hey are you—

I close the thread midsentence.

Then Jacob. I don’t even open it.

Talia probably texted them to tell them what happened. A new group chat, without me. Maybe Rose can join it. The thought fills my eyes with tears.

My friends keep texting me, and Talia keeps calling. Every time my phone vibrates, I jump, but I can’t put it away, and I can’t stop staring at the screen. I feel sick. I’m a terrible friend. They’re all worried about me and I’m ignoring them. I don’t deserve them. Even if I answered now, what would I say? I can’t tell any of them I have a crush on Talia.

So this is happening, then. I’m going to ruin all of my friendships, not just with Talia but with everyone. Maybe it’s better this way. I’m clearly not capable of handling my shit. She deserves a better best friend. I should just walk away and let her fall in love in peace.

Then my mom calls me. I dismiss the first call, and she texts me immediately. Hayley, you did not just send me to voicemail. Answer my next call, or you’re grounded. Basketball included.

Two seconds later, she calls again. I pick up.

“Hayley, I just got this frantic call from Talia that you ran out of the restaurant? You were crying? Where are you? I’m getting in the car now.”

“No, don’t! I’m on the bus home,” I say in a low voice. I don’t want the other people on the bus to hear how upset I am.

“What happened?”

“I can’t . . .” My throat closes up. “I don’t know.”

“Hayley.” There’s a long pause, and she lets out a sigh. “OK. Which stop are you getting off at?”

I tell her.

“Stay on the phone with me and I’ll meet you there,” she says. “If I’m not there when you get there, wait. Don’t go anywhere. I can still ground you.”

“OK.” I’m halfway between receding panic and the onset of post-anxiety exhaustion. I can’t even protest. You need words to do that, and talking right now takes everything I have.

I put my phone on speaker in case she says something else and check my texts again. I should text my friends back, but every time I open one of the threads, I freeze up. None of them can know I have a crush on Talia.

Your mom let me know you were OK. Hayley, please talk to me, Talia says.

And:

What’s wrong? Is it something I did? If you didn’t want to go on the double date, you could have told me, I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do.

And:

Please. Tell me what’s going on.

Tears sting my eyes as she texts me over and over, but I’m too frozen to write back. I look out the window and recognize the houses around us just in time to pull the cord for my stop. The driver brakes hard, throwing me forward. I stumble out of the back doors and look around as the bus pulls away.

“Hayley!” My mom’s voice echoes across the street. She runs to me, pulling me into a tight hug, then takes my hand and leads me up the block toward our house. I haven’t held her hand since I was a kid, but I let it happen. It’s kind of comforting.

“Sweetie, you look like a deer in the headlights,” she says as we turn the corner onto our street. “Did you have a panic attack?”

I nod. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.

“That hasn’t happened in a long time, right?” she says.

I shake my head.

From my peripheral vision, I see her look at me, but I don’t meet her gaze. “I respect that you don’t want to talk about it, and I’ll let you have some time to calm down, but we can’t have you running out of places like that,” she says. “I’ll give you some time to rest, but I want to talk to you tomorrow after family brunch, OK?”

I nod my head. Family brunch sounds like the last thing I want to do right now, but maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.

Maybe.

Probably not.