Page 122 of Sunset Catchers

And I love him right back, and now my mind is reeling over what’s supposed to happen next, waiting for instructions on its reorganization to accommodate this new data.

It blew my mind that I woke up this morning, utterly unchanged. My reflection was exactly the same when I looked in the mirror. My hair was curly and my eyes were brown, and how the hell am I still the same when Levi loves me!

Something should happen when love is professed to you.

It should be a universal rule. Instant fireworks in the shape of your face or a banner hanging from the back of a plane flying high in the sky that reads; This girl is loved.

Because that’s what I am, loved, by Levi.

My content sigh that is met with two different snorts. Junie and Sloane wear matching knowing smiles. I try to put out a scowl, but the muscles in my face won’t listen to me. They have their own agenda. They are happy, and they want my face to show it.

Junie and Sloane’s emotions diverge; melancholy in Junie’s hazels and disquiet in Sloane’s baby blues. I get that my best friend might be both happy for me and sad for herself. I’m also happy for me and sad for her.

She remains single and unmatched, which I can’t even comprehend how that is even possible.

She’s Junie! Wake up people!

When it comes to Sloane’s unease, I’m befuddled. I don’t know her well enough yet to form any conclusions. Maybe it’s just concern over her brother, since she knows about our new in love status.

I’d spilled the beans about being a loved woman to my best friend as soon as I snuck back into my cottage early in the morning, after cuddling Levi all night long because I was needy now. I didn’t even want to think how I would cope when I’d be back home, alone in my bed.

Then, when Junie met Sloane a couple of hours later, she’d introduced herself as follows: “Hi, I’m Junie. Best friend to the girl whom your brother loves.”

And that was that. Sloane was one more person who knew. Which was fine with me, since I wanted the whole cosmos to know that Levi loved me. Tattoo his name over my heart, and let’s just wear matching outfits from now on.

Another content sigh met with rolls of eyes this time.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to be insufferable. I’ll stop now,” I say, while adding yellow polka dots to my mug.

Junie shakes her head of blonde hair. “Don’t you dare! You deserve to be happy.” My heart squeezes for a beat.

“Yeah. Love is so complicated. So when you feel good about it, it’s a great thing,” Sloane adds in, adding another coat of burgundy pain to her ring holder.

There is definitely a story to tell here. I keep my expression neutral, but open—it says: “If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen. If not, no worries.” I know too well that some stories don’t necessarily want to be told. Sloane takes up my invitation.

“I was in a long-term relationship. We met in high school. We ended things recently,” she says voice flat.

“Can I ask why?” Junie says, then adds, “Just because it was my dream to add high-school sweetheart to my relationship resume.”

Sloane snorts. “You should meet Ben, Levi’s best friend. He was in the same boat as you.”

Junie sighs in a tragic way. “I did meet him. Unfortunately, I don’t do business owners.”

Sloane hums before answering Junie’s question. “Getting into a relationship when you’re still a teenager isn’t all that great. We were so young. Our frontal lobes were still processing so much shit. We had every decision to make. He had everything figured out already, and I didn’t. I still don’t, honestly.”

It’s insane to me that society expects seventeen years old to make these big life decisions. We can’t even legally vote or get drunk or buy lottery tickets, but somehow, we’re supposed to choose what to do with the rest of our lives? As if that’s not more of a gamble than a two-dollar scratcher.

“So what, he broke up with you because you were taking too long?”

Junie’s scowl is cutting. “No. I broke up with him. I was still nowhere ready to take the famed next step. To settle down or whatever. I didn’t want to waste more of his time while he waited for me to make up my mind.”

“That’s very selfless,” I say hesitantly.

“I still broke his heart.”

By the sharp glower on her face, it’s not hard to assume that Sloane also broke her own heart.

“Do you still love him?” Bold of Junie to ask, I would never. But I’m all ears.