I dropped the keys I’d been holding, and they clattered onto the wood floor. Bri jumped and broke away from Wyatt, her eyes widening when she saw me. “Andie,” she said, blinking at me. “What—what are you doing here?”
“I was bringing the cat back from the vet,” I said, saying these words because they still belonged to a universe that I understood, with logic that I could follow. “I . . .” I stared at them, wondering if there was any way I could have misunderstood, trying to come up with some other explanation for what I’d just seen. But Wyatt’s hand was still tangled in Bri’s hair, and her cheeks were flushed, and Wyatt’s shirt was on inside out. There was no pretending that she’d been giving him emergency mouth-to-mouth, or anything other than what this was. Wyatt was looking from me to Bri, like he was trying to figure out what happened next.
“Right,” Bri said, taking a step away from Wyatt and smoothing her own shirt down, like she was trying to regain some of her composure. “I guess I just thought . . . I didn’t realize you would be the one bringing her back.”
“Last-minute thing,” I said, and Bri nodded and then looked down, and I wondered if she’d just felt what I had—that I’d reached my limit of talking about things other than the elephant in the room.
“So I think I’ll head out,” Wyatt said to Bri, after the awkward silence had stretched to the breaking point, and I watched them have a fierce, silent conversation that ended with Bri glancing at me and nodding. Wyatt leaned forward, and was clearly about to kiss her, but stopped at the last moment, looked at me, then pulled back and gave Bri an awkward half hug/pat-on-the-head combo. Wyatt hurried past me like he was fleeing the scene of the crime, slamming the door behind him as he went.
I looked at Bri, who wouldn’t meet my eye, just turned and started walking up the stairs again, her steps heavy. “Come on,” she said over her shoulder. “We should talk.”
“You think?” I asked as I followed her up the stairs to her room.
“I know,” Bri said, looking down at her hands, which were twisting together. “I know, Andie.”
“But . . . ,” I said, trying to get my head around this. “What is even going on? I mean . . .” I looked at her, wanting her to jump in, somehow explain things so that I could understand them. “How did it happen?”
Bri let out a long breath and looked up at me. “The night of the scavenger hunt,” she finally said, and I felt my jaw drop open.
“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. I had been ready to hear that this had been a one- or two-time thing, that she now realized was a huge mistake. “The scavenger hunt was weeks ago. You guys have been . . . this whole time?” Bri nodded and pressed her lips together hard. “Did it happen when Wyatt’s car broke down?” Bri just gave me a look, and much too late, the penny dropped. “His car never broke down,” I said, feeling like an idiot for not putting this together sooner.
“No,” Bri said, her voice quiet. “We were starting to do the list when he told me how he felt. And I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but . . . I’d been feeling the same way too.”
I closed my eyes for a second, still trying to get this to be a reality I could deal with—that Bri and Wyatt had been together, in secret, for half the summer.
“Oh my god,” I said, sinking down to the floor, feeling like my legs were not really up for holding me at that moment. My eyes strayed over to her bed—it was messy, the sheets rumpled, and I knew for a fact that Bri made her bed, hospital corners and all, every morning. “Are you sleeping with him?”
Bri just looked at me—I could see the answer clearly written across her face. “Bri.” I suddenly thought of the day on Palmer’s roof, how quiet she’d been when we were talking about guys and bases, keeping this secret from all of us. Keeping it from Toby. “What about Toby?” I asked, feeling like this just kept getting worse.
Bri shook her head and let out a short laugh, the kind with no humor in it whatsoever. “Right,” she said, and I could hear her voice was tight, and higher, the way it was when she was getting emotional and didn’t want to show it. “Because of course this is about Toby.”
I just looked at her. “Well . . .”
“It’s always about Toby!” Bri yelled this, her voice reverberating in the room.
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked, her voice still raised. “You found out I’m sleeping with Wyatt and your first thought was about Toby. Not me. I don’t get a morning at the diner where we all get to talk about it. I don’t even get to be with him in public, because of Toby. Because we need to protect her.” Bri brushed her hand across her face. “Nobody ever cares about making things easier for me. It’s always about Toby. It’s like I can’t even see myself sometimes when I’m with her, and I just . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she sat down on the bed, pulling her knees up underneath her.
I pushed myself off the floor and walked over to sit next to Bri on the bed. “Okay,” I said, hearing the question in my voice. I felt like I was so without a plan and so beyond anything we’d ever experienced that I had no idea what to do from here, how we should proceed. My first, automatic thought was that it should be Toby here, doing this, before I realized how crazy that was. “So tell me about it.”
Bri gave a trembly smile as she looked at her hands. “It’s . . . He’s . . .” She looked up at me. “You know he’s the first thing I’ve had that’s mine? Just mine? In, like, a decade? And it’s good.” She took a shaky breath. “It’s great. He’s so different when you really get to know him. He’s actually really funny, and he’s got such a good heart. And he gets me,” she said, more quietly now. “He sees me. I make him laugh, and . . .” Her smile got wider. “We just . . . work.”
“I’m glad for you,” I said. “I am,” I added quickly when she shot me a look. And I was—I was thrilled that Bri had fallen for someone she really liked. But there was almost no way to separate this from who it was she had fallen for. “It’s just . . .” I knew I didn’t have to say it. The underside, the shadow, of everything Bri was saying was that Toby was out there, not knowing any of this.
“I never wanted to hurt her, Andie. That’s the last thing I wanted.”
“I know that,” I said, my voice quiet.
“But . . .” Bri pushed herself off the bed and paced over to the window. “They never even dated. It’s not like he’s her ex, or anything. She has this crazy crush on him, but Wyatt told her that he’s not interested. And still she has this claim on him. And at some point . . .” Her voice faded out, and she bit her lip.
“What?” I asked, keeping my voice soft, thinking back to Clark, in the car, in the rain.
“At some point,” she said, then took a big breath. “It was like I was putting my happiness on hold for something that only existed in Toby’s head.” She stared at me with something like horror. “Oh god, I have to tell her the truth, don’t I?”
I let out a long breath. “Well . . .” Sitting between us, the elephant in the room, was that this had been a secret. That the only reason I knew—the only reason we were having this conversation—was because I’d caught them. That this might have been a different conversation if she’d told Toby before anything had happened with Wyatt. But now . . .
I played this through to the end, and it hit me. Just what this meant, really. For all of us. Because there was no way we got out of this, as a group, still okay. Even if Bri and Wyatt came clean now, I didn’t see Toby getting over this any time soon. If she found out by accident, it would be the same thing—but probably worse. There was no way out of this, unless . . .
Unless Toby never found out.
I pushed myself up to standing and walked over to the couch in Bri’s room, the one that was parallel to the bed, and felt something inside of me click back into place. Peter’s words from this morning were echoing in my head. We had to shape this narrative and figure out a plan while we still could. This was still fixable.
It had to be fixable. The four of us had to be okay. My friends had been the one thing I could always count on, and with everything else beginning to spin out of my control, I needed us to stay together. My dad might have a foot out the door, but I wasn’t about to let us fall apart.
“Bri,” I said, leaning forward. “Tell me how you see that playing out. You telling Toby you’ve been sneaking around all summer and lying to her.”
Bri’s chin trembled slightly as she pulled at a thread on her comforter. “I . . . ,” she started, then shook her head.
“Exactly,” I said, not looking away from Bri. “So . . . what if she doesn’t need to know? What if she doesn’t have to go through all that?”
Bri blinked at me. “Andie?”
“Who does it benefit for her to find out?” I asked, making my voice as calm and reasonable as possible. “You’ve been keeping this a secret all summer. What’s a few more weeks?”
“What do you mean?” Bri asked, though the expression on her face told me she knew exactly what I meant.
“I mean,” I hesitated, then made myself say it. “Have you guys talked about what is going to happen when Wyatt leaves?”
“No,” she said, and I could hear her start to get defensive. “Have you and Clark?”
I swallowed hard. “No,” I admitted, feeling my heart clench, the way it always did when I had to think about this. “But,” I said, trying to focus on Bri as I told myself that ours wasn’t even close to the same situation, “do you think that this is . . . like, a long-term thing?” I winced even as I said it and braced myself for her to throw the same question back at me, one about Clark that I couldn’t come close to answering.
Bri looked down at the floor, and I could see her lip was trembling and I felt horrible for putting her through this. I told myself firmly that this was for the best—not only for Bri, but for all of us. “I don’t know,” she finally said, in a half whisper.
“That’s okay,” I said, sitting down next to her. “And it’s understandable. You guys are still figuring it out. But since you’re not totally sure it’s going to be a long-term thing . . .” I let my sentence trail off, hoping that Bri would fill in the blanks.
“What if Toby finds out that we were both keeping this from her?” Bri finally asked, looking up at me. “And Palmer, too. How do you see that playing out?”
“I think it’s better than the alternative,” I finally said. “Don’t you?”
I held my breath while I watched Bri struggle with this. She had to be able to see it. Because the four of us, together, was everything. And we had to stay that way—we had to do what we had to to make it happen.
“Okay,” Bri finally said, nodding once.
“It’s for the best,” I said, feeling relief flood through me. “For all of us.”
“You’re sure about this,” she said, not exactly phrasing it like a question.
I nodded, quashing any small voices of doubt that were trying to tell me that I was doing this all wrong and that there was more going on here than just Bri and Wyatt. This was the only way we were going to make it out of this unscathed. And so I nodded and looked Bri right in the eye. “I am.”
Bri nodded, and I felt a weight start to lift off my shoulders. It was all going to be okay. I had the same feeling as when you duck at the very last second and miss something you would have walked right into—realizing just how close you came to danger. And then the relief that followed when you realized you were safe, that everything was going to be fine.
• • •
“What do you think?” Clark asked, as he swung his car into the parking lot of the Boxcar Cantina. “I thought it might be nice . . . kind of romantic . . .” He adjusted his glasses, and I saw how nervous he was about his surprise.
“It’s great,” I said, leaning across the car and giving him a quick kiss. We hadn’t been back here since the night of our first date, and I liked that we were going back now, when everything between us was different, on the cusp of another first.
I started to get out of the car, but Clark practically ran around to my side and opened my door for me. “Thanks,” I said, stepping down and taking the hand he offered me. Clark closed my car door and then slid his arms around me.
“Hi,” he said, pulling me close.
“Hi,” I said back. He leaned down and kissed me, and I kissed him back, until we were pressed up against the side of the car, both of us breathing hard, and my pulse was galloping in my throat. “Um, do we really have to have dinner?” I asked, and Clark laughed. But I was only partially kidding. There was a piece of me that wanted to tell him we should skip it, just get back in the car and head straight back to his place.
“So,” he said as he took my hand in his and we walked up to the restaurant, “how was your day?”
“Oh,” I said, feeling myself start to come back down to reality as I thought about the day—starting with Peter showing up in our kitchen and ending with walking in on Bri and Wyatt. I didn’t want to tell Clark that everything was fine—he’d be able to see through me, anyway—I just didn’t want to have to think about these other things tonight. Tonight was about us. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks, and nothing was going to wreck it. “Well—” I started, just as we reached the hostess podium, and took my opportunity to avoid answering the question.
While Clark gave her his name, I felt my phone buzz in my purse and pulled it out.
TOBY
PALMER
Yes! Tonight’s the night!!
TOBY
PALMER
I think Toby wants a picture of what you’re wearing.
I smiled as I read these, then sent one of the pictures I’d taken when I was getting ready, mostly because I’d had a feeling this conversation would happen. I was wearing one of my favorite dresses and the fanciest underwear I’d ever owned—Bri and I had bought it together last week, and it hadn’t even occurred to me then to wonder why she was also getting some for herself.
PALMER
You look amazing!!
TOBY
ME
Thanks, you guys.
PALMER
We can meet up at the diner and discuss tomorrow over waffles!
Keep tradition alive and all.
TOBY
I felt my smile fade as I looked at the screen. For a moment I wished I was back where Palmer and Toby were, not knowing any of this—not knowing that Bri had gone through her first time without telling any of us, without talking to us about it, without doing the diner recap. And the thought of that just made me sad—not just for Bri, but for all of us.
ME
Right. Totally!
Talk to you guys later.
“Andie?” I looked up to see Clark standing by the hostess, with menus tucked under her arm, and I dropped my phone in my bag as I hurried to join him. We were seated at a table just one over from where we’d been on our first date, and I had a feeling that Clark had done something to arrange it.
“So where was your dad tonight?” Clark asked, as I glanced at the menu and then set it aside, knowing I would get the exact same thing I’d gotten before. “He wasn’t lying in wait and telling me that he knows people who know people. Is he feeling okay?”
Clark clearly meant this as a joke, and I gave him a small smile. “He’s good, actually,” I said, making my voice much more upbeat than I was currently feeling. I didn’t really want to go into it, telling Clark how it had felt seeing Peter standing in our kitchen, seeing my dad slip back into his old mode like it was nothing, like our summer hadn’t even happened. If I told Clark about it, it became the truth in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted, not tonight. So I smiled at him brightly across the table. “It turns out that he’s going to get cleared of any wrongdoing. So he should be back to running for reelection in the fall, everything back to normal soon.” I took a sip of my Diet Coke, needing to avoid Clark’s eye and the way he always seemed to be able to read me.
“But . . . I thought he wasn’t going to run again. I thought he told you that.”
“Well, it seems like he changed his mind.”
“I’m sorry, Andie,” he said, his voice low and soft. He leaned toward me, and I felt myself, without meaning to, draw slightly back.
“It’s fine! It’s what was probably always going to happen, right?”
Clark just looked at me for a long moment, his brow furrowing. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “You seem . . .”
“What?” I asked, not meeting his eye as I folded up the top of my straw wrapper.
“I don’t know,” he said after a long moment. The waitress came and took our order—Clark got his Reaper-ito again—and when she’d left and the menus had been cleared away, Clark looked at me across the table, his eyes searching mine.
“Anyway,” I said, looking around for the chips, “that’s what happened to me today. How was your day? What did you do?” I was trying to get back to where I’d been just a few minutes ago, but I could hear that my voice wasn’t quite right—it was a little shrill, and I was talking faster than usual.
“It was okay,” Clark said. “I worked this afternoon, and then . . . um . . . got things ready for tonight.” He smiled at me, and I looked down at the table and wished, more than anything, that I was back in that same place with him.
“Neat,” I said, my voice coming out too high. “Awesome.”
“Andie.” Clark leaned across the table and took one of my hands in both of his. “If you’re nervous about tonight, it’s okay. And—”
“No,” I said, wishing I could shake this off once and for all. It wasn’t Clark’s fault my day had gotten so totally derailed. “I’m not. I mean, a little bit. But it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I looked at him and realized that while I knew I didn’t have to tell him about Bri and Wyatt, I wanted to. I didn’t want to keep something that big from him. And maybe if I talked about it, the thoughts that had been swirling around in my head ever since I left Bri’s house would settle down a little and I could enjoy what was supposed to be one of the most important nights of my life.
“Okay,” I said, letting out a breath. “But you can’t tell anyone. All right?”
“Of course,” Clark said easily.
“I mean it,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him.
“Yes,” Clark said, his tone growing more serious, clearly picking up on how I was feeling. “What’s going on?”
I took a breath and started to tell him. By the time I was through, our chips had finally arrived, but neither one of us had touched them yet.
“Jeez,” Clark said when I’d finished, letting out a low whistle.
I winced. “I know.”
“This . . . I mean, this can’t end well, right?”
“Well,” I said, letting go of his hands, “I mean . . . Bri and Wyatt have been keeping it together all summer. So if they can get through this until he goes back to school, they’ll be fine. That’s what I told her to do, actually.”
“Wait, what?”
“It just makes sense,” I said, breaking a chip in half, not even because I really wanted it, but because I wanted to have something to do with my hands.
“Why were you telling her to do anything?” Clark asked, sounding mostly baffled.
“Because it was going to wreck everything,” I said, hearing myself get defensive, “and it was the logical thing to do.”
Clark just looked at me. “So is Bri just going to keep this secret from Toby forever? Are you?”
“Do you really think they’re going to be able to make a long-distance thing work?” I asked, knowing full well that I wasn’t just talking about Bri and Wyatt. “Especially since they haven’t even talked about it?”
The sentence seemed to hang between us for a second, and I pressed my nails into my palms, not even sure what I wanted him to say.
“Yeah,” he finally replied. He cleared his throat and looked down at the table. “That’s . . . I mean, I guess it’s a complicated situation.”
I nodded, trying not to let the disappointment I was feeling show on my face. What had I wanted Clark to say? That we were different, that we’d find a way to make it work? That he’d at least thought about this, like I had?
I took a long drink of my soda, wishing more than anything that we’d just left when I’d wanted to in the parking lot. It suddenly felt like Clark was getting farther away from me across the table, like there was a gulf between us, even though he hadn’t actually moved. “Well,” I said, giving him a tight smile, “it was the only thing to be done. If you’d been there, you would have understood.”
“Okay,” Clark said, and silence fell between us once again. I looked across the table at him and tried to imagine the rest of the night playing out. Suddenly, all our plans, all Clark’s preparation, my fancy underwear . . . none of it felt right anymore. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to kick off. I couldn’t even imagine recapping this in the diner in the morning, that we had been awkward and sniping at each other over dinner, not saying what we really meant. None of it was going the way I’d wanted it to. And it wasn’t fair to do this to Clark, since he had just been yanked into this. “Clark,” I said, swallowing hard. “About tonight. I think maybe it’s not the best night for it.”
I looked up at him, and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and while I could hear disappointment in his voice, he didn’t sound surprised. “I think maybe another night would be better.”
“But soon,” I said.
“Yes, absolutely soon,” he said immediately, and I laughed. Our food arrived, and when Clark started eating his burrito, the kitchen staff gathering to watch again, I sent a text to my friends, telling them that our plans had changed, there was no need for waffles, and I’d talk to them tomorrow.
By the time we were done with dinner, things were feeling better. Not like the evening could still be salvaged, but somewhat back to normal. We were feeling like us again, at least.
“But I am worried about you,” Clark said, once the plates were cleared. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “How are you doing with all of this?”
For a moment I thought about telling him how I was really feeling—like things were spinning out of my control and all I knew to do was to hold on as hard as I could, and try to keep everything together. But the moment passed, and I just gave him a smile, even though I was pretty sure he would see through it. “Of course,” I said. “I’m fine.”
ME
Hey! Running a few late to pick up Bert. Be there soon.
CLARK
That’s fine!
Whenever.
Um.
ME
What?
CLARK
So I have to tell you something
ME
What is it?
CLARK
I told Tom
About Bri and Wyatt
ME
What?!
Clark!!
CLARK
You were acting so strange about the whole thing
Not like yourself at all and I didn’t know if you were okay.
I just wanted his take on it.
But it’s okay. He promised not to tell
ME
You really think he’s going to be
able to keep this from Palmer?
CLARK
Maybe?
ME
I don’t.
Wait, hold on, he just texted
TOM
Andie! What the hell?!
ME
I know
TOM
I mean . . .
ME
I know
TOM
You know I have to tell Palmer
ME
NO
Tom, seriously, you cannot
CLARK
What’s he saying?
ME
Oh, just that he has to tell Palmer
CLARK
But he promised he wouldn’t!
ME
He hasn’t yet, but it seems likely
CLARK
I’ll talk to him
TOM
Hello?
ME
Sorry. Clark’s mad at you
TOM
What did I do? I didn’t even want to know
any of this. And now I’m keeping secrets from my
ME
How do you think I feel?
You can’t tell her. Tom, SERIOUSLY
It’s bad enough you and Clark know
TOM
What’s that supposed to mean?
PALMER
Hey. What’s going on?
ME
Nothing. Why?
What do you mean?
PALMER
What?
ME
Did you talk to Tom?
PALMER
About what?
ME
Nothing. Just . . . checking.
PALMER
ME
Maybe! Can I let you know?
CLARK
Okay, now Tom’s mad at me
ME
But is he going to keep it secret?
CLARK
He says he can
ME
He also said he could do a British accent
You didn’t have to sit through the production of
My Fair Lady like the rest of us
TOBY
ME
Hi! What’s going on?
Anything happening?
Anything you want to share?
TOBY
ME
You’re bored at work?
TOBY
ME
That’s great
Toby
ME
No, I just meant that it’s good it’s
not something more serious, that’s all
PALMER
Movie? Bri thinks she can get us in free
And that it’s not just a ploy to get us
to hang out with her this time
ME
Want me to see if Clark can come?
PALMER
Idk, I was thinking maybe just us
I feel like I haven’t seen Bri lately
ME
She’s probably just busy
With her job
CLARK
Tom might be mad at you now
ME
I know that
CLARK
No about something else
(sorry)
TOM
Oh, so now I can’t act, either??
You said you LIKED my Henry Higgins
ME
I did!
TOM
SURE.
ME
CLARK!
CLARK
I’m sorry! I needed an example
ME
Stop telling Tom everything!
PALMER
Movie?
ME
Sure. Fine. Sounds good
And let’s not ask the guys
I’m currently mad at Clark
PALMER
What’d he do?
ME
Nothing
He just
PALMER
What??
ME
He won’t tell me what his new book is about
PALMER
I’ll get Tom to find out—I bet he can
ME
I’m beginning to agree with you
TOBY
ME
Awesome, you’re in?
TOBY
PALMER
Okay, I’ll see you tonight
I have to go talk my boyfriend off the ledge
Suddenly he’s worried about his British accent??
ME
Actors.
Weird, right?
CLARK
Can I see you tonight?
ME
Seeing a movie with the girls.
CLARK
It’s a plan.
And I am sorry about telling Tom.
I just needed to get some perspective.
ME
I get it.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Xx
• • •
“So do you guys have an arrangement with management or something?” Toby asked as she leaned across the glass case in the lobby of the Palace Movie Theater, looking down at the candy. “That the only movies you can get us into for free are the bad ones?”
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Palmer said from the other side of the lobby, as she looked at one of the coming-attraction posters. “I liked the dog.”
“I don’t think that’s the best indication of a movie’s quality,” I said, looking around from my spot behind the counter, next to Bri. We were the last ones there—after the show ended, Bri had swept up and we’d helped by pointing out where she needed to sweep. All the moviegoers had gone, and after Craig the projectionist exchanged an awkward greeting with Toby (their date had not been a success), we had our run of the place.
I looked at Bri doing her last checks of the theater, locking the front door so nobody would wander in and making sure everything was turned off, I was impressed that she was hiding her secret so well. But maybe she’d gotten used to it over the last month, or we just hadn’t been paying attention. But as I looked around at all of us hanging out, Palmer and Toby none the wiser to what was going on in our midst, I began to really feel like this might be okay. That we’d get through this, Wyatt and Bri would fade out, and nobody needed to get unnecessarily hurt in the process.
“What do you guys want to do now?” Palmer asked, heading over to me and Toby, while Bri did actual work, taking inventory of the popcorn kernels and condiments. “Diner? Or we could go to the Orchard?”
“Orchard,” Bri and Toby said in unison.
“Oh,” Palmer said, looking crestfallen. “But . . .”
“If you want food, P, just get something to go,” I suggested.
Palmer pointed at me. “I knew there was a reason we keep you around,” she said, pulling out her phone and taking a few steps away.
“Order me French fries!” Toby yelled after her, then turned to me. “Think she heard me?”
“I think she heard you,” I said, laughing. “I just don’t know if she listened to you.”
“Okay,” Bri said, setting her clipboard down. “Done.”
“Can we leave?” I asked over Toby, who, rather than walking up to Palmer, was just yelling, “French fries!” at increasingly louder levels.
“Almost,” Bri said. “I just have to make sure that everyone’s out of the bathrooms and that they’re not a complete disaster.”
“How long?” I asked, taking out my phone. “I’ll see if Clark wants to meet us at the Orchard.”
“We should be good to leave in ten,” Bri said, picking up her phone to check the time, then leaving it on the counter as she headed for the bathroom. “And tell Toby I want in on her fries.”
I started to text Clark as Toby reached into her bag for her own phone, then sighed as she looked at the screen. “My phone’s dead,” she said, dropping it back in her purse.
“Why is your phone always dead?” I asked, shaking my head at her.
“Give me yours,” Toby said, grabbing for it, and I held it out of her reach.
“Wait a sec,” I said. “I’m texting Clark.”
Toby rolled her eyes at me and then reached for Bri’s. “Because you never talk to Clark,” she said, already scrolling through Bri’s apps.
“Okay,” Palmer said, coming back to join us. “Food’ll be ready in ten.”
“Did you get my French fries?” Toby asked.
“Did you want French fries?” Palmer asked, sounding extra confused. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Palmer!” Toby said, then looked up to see Palmer’s expression. “Oh,” she said, smiling. “Gotcha. I just—” Bri’s phone dinged with a text update just as I finished writing my text to Clark. “Oh, Wyatt texted,” Toby said, squinting at the screen, and I looked up at her and felt my stomach plunge.
“Maybe you shouldn’t see that,” I said, quickly reaching for Bri’s phone, but Toby took a step away, still reading, her brow furrowing. “Tobes, just use mine,” I said, desperately trying to get in front of this, holding my phone out to her.
“I . . . ,” Toby said, and now I could see that she was scrolling up, reading Bri’s text messages, her hand shaking and her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t understand what . . .”
“What are you talking about?” Palmer asked, looking at me as my pulse started going double time. This was happening. It was happening right now.
And there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.
“Done!” Bri said triumphantly, emerging from the bathroom smiling at us. It faltered, then faded, when she saw Toby. “What’s going on?” she asked, and I saw her eyes dart from her phone to Toby’s face and then to mine. I gave my head a tiny shake.
“Why is Wyatt texting you?” Toby asked, her voice was trembling. “Why is he telling you that he misses you and it’s been too long and he needs to see you tonight?”
“Wait, what?” Palmer asked, her jaw dropping open. She looked at Bri. “Is this a joke?”
“I . . . ,” Bri said, looking at me, then back to Toby. “Okay, so . . .”
“You’ve been hooking up with Wyatt?” Toby asked, her voice rising. “My Wyatt?”
“He’s not yours,” Bri said softly, and I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing that we’d talked about how to handle this if Toby found out. How had we not had a contingency plan in place?
“What?” Toby asked, looking like she’d just been punched in the stomach.
“He’s not yours,” Bri said, and I could see she was blinking fast, the way she always did when she was starting to cry but was trying to fight it. “You guys made out once. It’s not like you two were even together—”
“Seriously?” Toby asked, shaking her head. “You’re seriously saying that?”
“Okay,” Palmer said, looking at me, clearly wanting backup. “Let’s—”
“Here’s the thing,” I said in my most soothing voice, taking a step forward. “I think we all just need to take a breath and focus here. If we just—”
“If there was nothing wrong with what you were doing with Wyatt, why didn’t you tell me?” Toby asked, still gripping Bri’s phone. “Why keep it a secret?”
“Because I knew you’d do this,” Bri said, her voice breaking. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”
“So you’ve just been lying,” Toby said, and I could tell that she was still struggling, on some level, to understand what was happening. “You’ve been lying to all of us all summer.”
“It was for the best,” Bri said a little desperately, shooting a look my way. “And it was . . . for all of us. For our friendship . . .” She looked at me again, like she was waiting for me to jump in and fix this. “Andie, tell her.”
Toby whipped around to face me. “You knew about this?”
“I only just found out,” I said. “But—”
“You kept this from me?” Toby asked, her voice breaking. “You lied to me?”
“And me,” Palmer said, shaking her head. “How could you do that?”
“I was just . . . ,” I started. “It was the only thing that made sense. There was no reason for Toby to get hurt if it could be avoided.”
“Oh my god,” Palmer said, shaking her head in disgust. “Don’t try to spin this, Andie. Are you kidding me?”
“That was not your call to make,” Toby yelled at me, her face getting red.
“I just wanted us to stay friends,” I yelled back, and Toby let out a short mocking laugh.
“Well, that worked out really well, didn’t it?”
“Toby—” I started, looking around the group, at all the people who were currently furious at me, willing myself to think fast enough, to figure out how to fix this.
“You were supposed to be my best friend,” Toby said to Bri, and I could see that she was crying now too, tears she tried to wipe away with angry swipes across her face.
“I am,” Bri said, looking up at Toby, her voice anguished.
Toby shook her head and dropped Bri’s phone on the counter. “No,” she said quietly, sounding shattered. “You’re not.” She walked across the lobby, yanking the glass door open and then pausing once she got outside, looking around for a moment before turning right and walking toward the parking lot, her shoulders hunched.
Bri looked down at her phone on the counter, then swallowed hard as she picked it up and put it in her back pocket. “You guys should probably go,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Bri—” Palmer said, but Bri was already talking over her.
“Really. I just want to be alone, okay?” Palmer and I looked at each other, and I knew we were both weighing the same thing—trying to decide if she really meant it, what we should do in this totally uncharted territory. “Please,” Bri said before either of us could come to a decision. “Please just go.”
Palmer gave me a tiny nod, and I took a step toward Bri—not sure what I was even going to say but feeling like I couldn’t just leave like this, without a word. But Bri crossed her arms tightly over her chest and looked down, giving me every indication that she meant what she said—that she wanted to be alone.
Palmer walked toward the door first, and I followed, still a little unable to believe that this had happened, was still happening, right now. It was like a slow-motion car accident that nobody was doing anything to stop. I followed Palmer out the door, out of the air-conditioned theater and into the hot, humid night, the cicadas sounding even louder than usual somehow.
“Toby was my ride,” Palmer said, and I nodded.
“I’ll drive you.” It felt like we were trapped in a bad play, neither one of us saying what we really wanted. We started to walk to the parking lot, and I looked back one more time to see Bri, looking lost in the empty theater, her hands over her eyes, her shoulders shaking.
I made myself look away, and Palmer and I walked to my car, not speaking to each other while she canceled her diner order and I texted Clark to let him know about the change of plans. I unlocked the car and Palmer got in, slamming her door hard and then turning to face the window. I looked over at her as I started the car, practically feeling the anger and resentment coming off her in waves. We didn’t say a single word on the way back to Stanwich Woods. Every time I’d take a breath to say something—I didn’t even know what—Palmer would turn away from me more in her seat, until she was totally facing the window and all I could see was her back.
When I went through the gatehouse, Jaime barely looking up from his novel to wave me in, Palmer said, “You know, Tom’s been acting really weird.”
Normally I would have made a joke here, asking her how can you tell? or something along those lines, but I knew this was not the moment for that. “He has?”
“Yes. Like he’s been hiding something.” She turned to face me. “He knows, doesn’t he? You told Clark, and he told Tom.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. I was almost to Palmer’s house, and even though the street was deserted, I put on my blinker to turn into her driveway. “But—”
“So not only were you keeping a secret from me, you were making my boyfriend lie to me.”
“I had to tell someone,” I said. “I was doing the best thing I could think of to keep us together and I just wanted to know—”
But she was already unbuckling her seat belt, shaking her head as she got out of the car. She slammed the door hard and walked fast across her driveway, not once looking back at me.
• • •
When I got home, my dad wasn’t waiting up to talk to me. I could see the light was on in his study, but I didn’t make a move to walk down the hall. What could he possibly do in this situation? And I didn’t want to tell him about what had happened. Because even if he had advice that was helpful, I couldn’t let myself get used to it—because who knew if he’d be here the next time I needed him.
I shut the door to my room behind me and leaned back against it for just a moment. I pulled out my phone, hoping against hope that there would be a text chain going, everyone admitting that they were sorry, and that we could all move past this. But there was nothing. I started to send a message, then stopped when I realized I had no idea what I would say. I selected just Toby’s name and started to write, trying not to see the last time we’d texted, when she’d been excited about the movie.
ME
Toby, I’m so sorry.
Are you okay? I’m worried.
I looked down at the screen, waiting, hoping she would respond. After a full minute I set my phone down on my nightstand and started to get ready for bed, even though it was only a little after ten. I felt like I was moving underwater as I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then turned off my light and got into bed. I’d just rolled over onto my side when my phone dinged with a text message.
TOBY
I waited to see if there would be more, but nothing else followed. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to that—had no idea how I was going to make any of this right, or if that was even possible. I looked at my phone, glowing in the darkness of my room, for a long moment.
