Page 68 of Don't Think

Is this really what my life is turning into?

I thought about canceling only a half dozen times. I even opened our texts, my thumb hovering over the screen, ready to type some excuse out. But then that little voice, the one that’sbeen living rent-free in my head all vacation, started whispering again.You need to do this.

Then there’s the damn bucket list Nora wanted to start when we first got here. I haven’t scratched a single thing off that list while she’s just flying on through it. Coming home with that glow on her face that screams she just had the best sex of her life, while I’m lounging on the couch with my fingers stained orange from Cheeto dust.

I know it’s not a race, but to not have a single thing crossed off? It’s a little embarrassing if I’m being totally honest.

But this is something for me to venture out and step out of my comfort zone. The little bubble I’ve trapped myself in for so long that I just have to force myself to pop through.

Isn’t that the entire point of a bucket list?

The TV clicks off, and the black screen reflects the three of us like a mirror. I glance over at Nora, catching her mid-sniffle as she dabs at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

“I don’t know why this movie makes me cry every time,” she says, laughing softly through her sigh.

I pat her knee and lean my head back against the couch. “Because deep down you want Ryan Gosling to build you a big, beautiful house with a wraparound porch.”

Her head drops back, too, eyes on the ceiling. “Is that so much to ask?”

Then she quickly pulls herself upright and starts collecting the empty wine glasses and rogue popcorn kernels from the cushion beside her.

“I’m heading to bed,” Nora says, stifling a yawn. “This was nice. Just us girls hanging out.”

“Yeah, movie night was way better without hearing the bed creak this time,” Ana adds, grinning like the menace she is.

Nora’s face turns beet red, and she glares at Ana, her expression a mix of horror and disbelief.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Ana says, waving her off. “I’m notjudgingyou. I’m judging Allie’s aunt for not soundproofing the walls in this place.”

Nora rolls her eyes and stands, brushing popcorn from her pajama pants.

“Goodnight, ladies,” she says with a mock salute.

We both watch her disappear up the stairs. The second she’s out of earshot, Ana turns to me, remote in hand.

“Do you wanna watch another one? Or are you heading to bed soon too?” she asks, gesturing to the television.

I shrug, doing my best to look sleepy even though my pulse is thudding in my ears and my stomach’s tying itself in knots. “I’ll probably head to bed soon,” I lie.

She nods. “Yeah, honestly, I should work on this damn book,” she says, letting out a long sigh.

“How’s it coming, by the way?” I ask, guilt creeping in.

World’s worst friend, right here.

She’s working on her third novel, about to publish, and I completely spaced on it.

She shrugs as she lifts herself from the chair. “It’s… coming,” she says, nodding. “I wanna smash these characters’ heads together most days, but hey, that’s writing for you.”

I chuckle like I know what she’s talking about when, really, I have no idea. Sure, I’ve been obsessed with books for as long as I can remember, but writing one? That’s a whole other world. I can barely plan what I’m having for dinner, never mind planning entire plots.

At the bottom of the stairs, she pauses, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “Good night, Allie.”

“Night,” I say, trying to sound casual or like I’m not about to sneak out and maybe wreck my entire life.

And then I wait.

And I wait.