Page 103 of You Again

My brows cinch. “You did?”

“Oh yes. I believe he’s a fan of the friends-to-more trope. My personal favorite is marriage of convenience, but Zev always said that one was too far-fetched for him.” Grammy rolls her eyes, like this is a perfectly normal conversation we’re having.

“Fine.” I shake my head, certain I have a point. “Even if he does like romance books, I don’t know how to trust my feelings. I don’t know if they are sincere or the remnants of one soul longing for another.”

“Darling.” Grammy threads her fingers through mine. “If you can’t trust your soul, then what can you trust? Maybe your mind doesn’t remember our Zevulun. But your soul does—and if anything is worth trusting, it’s that.”

Me: Can you gather our friends? I have some questions, and I think I’m ready to ask them.

Fran: Our friends?

Me: Yes, Fran. As in, the soccer players, the women I don’t remember. Just a few people who you feel have played an important role in my life in the last year or two.

Fran: One second… processing… rereading.

Fran: Just double-checking: Those you didn’t remember, too?

Me: Yes. (Thanks for that double check.)

Fran: Your family?

Me: Just friends this time. I’ve been asking Mom and Dad questions already.

Fran: Wow. You have. Okay then. Let’s do this.

Fran: The guys are out of town for games until Sunday.

Me: That’s fine. I need a few days to collect my questions and thoughts.

Fran: Sounds good. I’ll get it ready.

Fran: Rose… Am I right to assume that Zev is included in this group?

Me: Is he someone who’s played an important role in my life the last year or two?

Fran: A very important role.

Me: Then invite him.

For the record, I knew Zev was on that list. I need Zev there.

Forty-Four

Remnants of souls longing for one another. Those are the words that won’t leave my brain alone. Fran and the Red Tails’ schedule have given me three days to gather what I want to say and what I want to ask. Three days to pray that I’m strong enough for all this. Three days to meditate and prepare so that I don’t spiral into another hospitalizing panic attack.

And yet, for three days I’ve thought about souls. Souls longing for souls.

I don’t know Zev very well—at least not as well as my former self did. But my soul knows him. That is getting harder and harder to deny.

The others are getting to Fran’s at seven, so I’m arriving at six.

And I’ve decided to be brave. I’m trying something new tonight. I push open the door to Fran’s house without one little knock.

And there’s Callum in a dress shirt and… boxer shorts.

“Whoa,” he says, hands falling in front of those black-and-white soccer-themed boxers. “Hey there.”

“OH MY GOSH,” I bellow, slapping a hand over my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I back up and run right into the wall. “Fran told me to walk in!” I yell, throwing my bestie right under the bus.